5. Geneva

5

GENEVA

I whip up a batch of pancake batter for tomorrow morning, finish cleaning the kitchen, and when everything is back in its rightful place, I walk into the living room to wait for Archer's return. I stand beside the fireplace, peering out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But all I can see is snow.

Staring at the frosted glass, my stomach starts to churn. My mind starts to race. A big gust of wind slams against the house, causing the walls to creak and groan.

Everything is fine.

He can't find me… he doesn't know where I am…

Gizmo pats my calf with his little paws as though he understands I'm starting to spiral.

Suddenly, the lights go out.

My blood races and my heart flies into my throat. The fire is still going, so I'm not in total darkness, but that doesn't stop the tiny bit of fear from turning into a full-fledged tsunami.

Another gust of wind slams into the house, and I take off like a rocket.

A weapon… I need to find a weapon.

I rush into the kitchen, and grope my way across the granite countertop, as I try to slow my breathing down. I gasp with relief when my fingers touch the block of knives. I snatch up the chef's knife and run into the pantry. I trip over a wooden box but quickly right myself. I whip around, close the door, crouch down in the back corner, and hold the blade in the air, prepared to fight for my life.

Sweat trickles down my back.

I hold my breath as I listen for his footsteps. My heart thunders, which sends a deafening roar over my eardrums. The memory of coal-black eyes glaring at me through the ski mask covering his face has acid burning a hole in my stomach.

He's going to kill me.

A hum surges through the house, letting me know the power's back on. But I can't move. He's out there… I know he is…

Footsteps thud across the floor. "Geneva!"

Light floods through the doorjamb.

Oh, God!

The door opens, and I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.

"Sweetheart, you're okay," Archer says as he squats down in front of me. "There's no one here. Just you and me."

I blink a few times to make sure my mind isn't playing tricks on me. Gizmo squeezes past Archer's big thigh and nuzzles his head along my leg.

"Sweetheart…" he holds out his hand. "Give me the knife."

"He's going to kill me," I whisper.

"No one is going to hurt you." He moves closer. "Let me have the knife."

I drop the blade and bury my face in my hands. Adrenaline burns through my body. "He's not here, is he?"

"No. He's not here. Can you do me a favor?" His deep voice is gentle and soothing.

Unable to speak because of the tears clogging my throat, I give him a slight nod.

"Good. I need you to look at me, sweetheart."

I slowly lift my head.

His dark brown eyes latch onto mine, blazing with fierce emotion. "I don't know who hurt you or what threats they've made against you, but I give you my solemn vow… I will never let them hurt you. Ever."

He offers me his hand.

I blink back a new round of tears, but they aren't sad tears, they're tears of relief. Overcome with a new wave of emotion, I lunge forward and throw my arms around him.

Archer doesn't push me away.

He holds me tight, strokes my hair, and whispers words of reassurance in my ear.

"You're safe, sweetheart. You're safe."

I collapse against him and sob with gratitude.

For the first time in my life, I know without a shadow of a doubt… I am safe.

I am truly safe.