NERO: Chapter 53

The tip of my thumb turns white as I press the button harder to call the elevator.

“Come on. Come on.” I urge the cab to hurry its climb.

It’s early to be leaving, so there’s no one else waiting with me, which I’m thankful for. Because if someone tried to engage me in small talk right now, I’d probably dissolve into sobs.

The need to look back for King prickles the back of my neck. But it’s this elevator or nothing. There’s no way I can outrun that man, and no way I’m trying for the stairs. His stride has to be twice as long as mine, he’d catch me in no time. Alone.

I shift my weight, the motion dulling the throb in one foot, but increasing it in the other.

The chime announcing the elevator startles me so bad I let out a small scream.

Cool, we’ll add embarrassment to the list of emotions I’m already dealing with.

As soon as the doors are wide enough for me to squeeze through, I start to step inside, but nearly colliding with another body has me letting out another scream.

The girl facing me screams a little too, me scaring her over her scaring me.

“Jesus, Krissy.” The older man standing next to her is shaking his head.

The girl giggles and swats at his chest. “She startled me.”

The girl is beautiful, looks barely old enough to drink, and is wearing a dress that makes mine look matronly in comparison.

“Sorry,” I mumble, and we shuffle around, letting each other pass.

The interaction almost makes me forget I’m being pursued. But after I press the button for the ground floor, I look up and lock eyes with King.

The bottom of my stomach drops, and I look away just long enough to press the button for the lobby level. Then I shakily push the door close button.

When I glance back up, King is striding straight toward me.

I hit the button again. Over and over, I press it as fast as I can.

King is halfway to me, jaw tight, fists clenched.

The doors start to slide shut.

“Please, please, please,” I beg the doors, pressing the button.

King is four strides away.

Then three.

Two strides, his hand is reaching out.

And the doors close.

I slump against the side wall of the elevator, my breath coming in choppy gasps. But as the elevator starts to lower, I realize that the wall I’m leaning on is glass; and the man, apparently named King, is standing there at the railing, staring at me. But a moment before I drop out of sight, I see him curse and stride toward the stairs.

Panic has fully consumed me by the time the doors slide open so, I don’t waste a second, squeezing out the door and hurrying toward the exit, hoping not to run into anyone this time.

I checked the progress of my Uber on the way down, and it should be pulling up outside right now. They’ll only wait a few minutes, but that’s more than enough time. If I’m not out those front doors in the next sixty seconds, I might never make it out.

The lobby is a grand affair, and there’s a short flight of four steps to get down from the main open area to the front doors, where the security guards are standing around.

I’m too worried about King chasing me to notice that it started raining outside, and that enough people have come and gone, leaving tracks of water on the sleek stone steps.

On the second step, my stupid high-heeled shoe hits the slippery surface just right and slides out from underneath me.

Flinging my arms wide, I get my hand on the railing, but not soon enough. My momentum sends me landing, ass first, onto the solid edge of the step. Pain immediately shoots up my spine.

It hurts.

A lot.

But that’s not the reason more tears stream down my face.

I’m done.

I’m just so fucking done with… all of it. My entire life.

Two of the guards are headed toward me, probably to help. But I don’t want their help.

I don’t want anyone’s help.

Sitting on the step for another moment, I reach down and shove one shoe off, then the other. I never want to see these damn things again.

Loud footsteps echo across the lobby from behind me, and I’m out of time.

Wincing, I use the handrail to pull myself up.

Then I do the one thing I’m good at.

I run.