Changing positions, I tried again, but this time let my arms trail behind me as I pulled until my wrists and shoulders screamed from the leather rubbing at an awkward angle. There was zero give even when I folded my thumbs in and tried to pop them out of the sockets to gain more space, but they wouldn’t budge either.

Stupid videos that made it look so easy.

In a world of predators and prey, I’d somehow just ended up on the wrong end of the game and was staring down the throat of a great white shark. Panting hard from screaming like a demon possessed me, I banged the chains off the rails, and did what every rational person would do in this scenario. I yelled profanities as loud as I could.

“Fuck you! I hate you! You don’t know me! You monster!”

It shocked me when the guy didn’t come running in because I was trying to yell his house down with my screams. Then again, it was a good assumption this spot was soundproof. We were in the middle of fucking nowhere, and the music was so loud that it alone could wake the dead.

Bad pun Kirby, really bad pun. This was great, just fucking great.

Of course, I’d be attracted to a serial killer. That was certainly my luck and in line with my life’s trajectory. It didn’t seem to matter where I met a guy, how much money he had, or even how good he smelled. Each one got progressively worse instead of better, and just when I didn’t think I could find a more abysmal choice than Peter, I ended up in this mess.

“A fucking serial killer! Really?” I wanted to bang my head on the wall. Maybe that would help whatever was wrong with me.

Even though he was a tow truck driver and I’d just had that horrible fight with Peter, I should’ve known. I should’ve seen a sign. I mean, I’m an FBI trainee, for fuck’s sake. At the coffee shop, something seemed unusual about him, but the look in his eyes set my underwear on fire, and my brain left the building at that point.

I was so fucked. I’d seen his work, and the artwork was always made when the victim was alive. Leaning against the wall, I let my cheek press into the coolness and closed my eyes. I never thought I’d wish for a normal day of classes, but here I was doing just that.

Pushing away from the wall, I let my eyes search the space and drawers closest to me. I stretched as far as the straps would allow and managed to brush my fingertips along one of the handles.

“Come on. You can do this.”