He left the bedroom, and I could hear him opening a drawer in the kitchen. When he came back, he held two serrated knives in his hand. He slipped one into his pocket and then put the other on the bed just out of the reach of my fingers.

“It may take you a while, but you should be able to figure out how to get hold of the knife and free yourself,” he said.

“Then what?”

“Then you can come after me, and we’ll see who wins.”

“Or maybe I’ll just wait here and take my chances,” I replied. “The police are going to have a hard time charging me with Tai’s murder if they find me tied to the bed. They’ll know I didn’t do it.”

“You won’t wait here,” my doppelgänger replied with a strange degree of confidence.

“No?”

“No.” He calmly smoothed the sleeves of his purple shirt. “You have a date with Karly tonight. Remember?”

Suddenly, I understood.

Suddenly, the horror of what he was doing became clear. The dress clothes. The smooth shave. The musk cologne. My body wrenched against the bonds that held me, making the entire bed frame rattle on the floor. “Stay away from her! Don’t go near her! Don’t do this!”

He took the knife from his pocket and dangled the blade in front of my eyes.

“You couldn’t save Karly in your own world,” Dylan told me. “So this should be very interesting. Do you think you can save her in this one?”

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 25

Karly.

I was going to lose her again. This predator with my face was going to meet her and kill her.

I had to stop him, but I had almost no time. Night was falling fast, which meant the time of our rendezvous wasn’t far away. Meanwhile, I was alone and trapped in the apartment. Alone with Tai’s body haunting me from the bathroom. Another woman I’d failed to rescue.

I shouted for Edgar, but he could barely hear the television even when it was turned up to full volume. I called for help at the top of my lungs, hoping to hear the thud of movement on the wooden floor over my head, but I heard nothing. Edgar was asleep in front of his game shows.

I needed to do this myself.

Dylan had left the kitchen knife just outside my grasp near the headboard. I jerked my body straight up, trying to jiggle the knife toward me. It moved a tiny bit toward my outstretched fingers, but it also slid dangerously close to the edge of the mattress. Where the knife was now, I could just touch the bottom of the handle with the tip of my middle finger. Another fraction of an inch, and I would be able to slide it into my hand.