“Serious?” He gestured with his hands at us, but refused to meet my stare. “What the fuck do you think this is? What are you planning to do to her? This is fucked up.”

“Man, come on.” Knife Guy shifted. “Just open the fucking door, you pansy-ass. We’re just going to scare her. That’s all.”

My heart stuttered and my eyes were wide, filling with tears. This isn’t happening. Those words were on repeat. I couldn’t process how my morning had started one way, so full of hope and love, and had gone to Shittyville in a nanosecond.

Bat Guy cursed under his breath as he moved around my flailing legs and opened the door to the basement. My stomach dropped. As I was carried through the opening of the basement, I froze up for a second. The rush of dread was paralyzing. It sank down deep, threatening to drown me.

The familiar landscape of the covered pool tables, the air hockey table, and the picture of Kyler as a small boy with his father snapped me into action.

Twisting my head sharply, I dislodged his hand far enough that I was able to bite down on his fingers. Clamping my teeth onto his skin, I pressed down until I felt his skin pop and a metallic taste exploded in my mouth.

Knife Guy howled and yanked his hand away. His grip on my waist loosened enough that I tore myself free. He blocked the only exit from here, and while every horror movie in the world replayed in my head, I had no other choice but to run farther into the house.

I ran faster than I’d ever had. The soles of my boots were damp and slick from the outside as they slipped over the wood floors. I entered the stairwell at breakneck speed. A weight hit me in the back, throwing me down on the stairs. I caught myself before I face-planted the steps.

“You little bitch,” he grunted, grabbing a fistful of hair as his knees pressed into my hips. He yanked my head back and a wave of sharp pain rolled down my spine as he pulled me up. Twisting onto my side I kicked out, catching him in the shin.

I didn’t see the blow until it landed. Pain burst across my face, hot and stinging. Crying out, I clawed at the hand in my hair.

“What are you doing?” the other guy yelled. “Holy fuck, are you out of your mind?”

Knife Guy ignored him, dragging me up the stairs. My scalp was on fire as we hit the living room and my gaze landed on the bed Kyler and I had built. It was messy from what we’d done that morning and seeing that right at the moment caused nausea to rise in my gut.

This isn’t happening.

“I fucking hate stuck-up bitches like you,” Knife Guy said, pushing me forward.