Chapter four

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Eric was standing and had his strong, veiny hand around my mouth before I could say anything else.

"Shut up," he whispered hard.

Fear spiked through my blood, doubled with a million questions I didn't have the answers to. Like, how did Eric get in my room? And what is he going to do to me? And would it be worse to be have Mom know he was here or to let him do whatever it is he's trying to do?

I grabbed at his hand, trying to pull it away, but he was stronger than me, his arm like a metal bar against my measly muscles.

"Stop fighting me, Kamilla," he said softly.

In response, I brought my knee up to his groin.

He grunted, doubling over and letting his hand fall from my mouth. I ran to my bedside, grabbing the modern lamp from my bed stand and raising it above my head.

"Really?" He wheezed. "What are you going to do, impale me with the lamp?"

"How did you find me, Eric?" I asked. My voice was oddly calm, given my pumping heart and ringing ears.

"Is the the best you got?" He smirked, straightening. "No hello? No I missed you?"

"I didn't," I said. "I was thirteen and you didn't even try reaching out to me after my mom busted me."

"Is that so?" His eyes were twinkling.

"I don't want to talk about the past," I said stonily. "Why are you here?"

My ex-boyfriend studied me for a second, amber eyes glinting in the dimly lit room. "To kidnap you."

Then he shot me.

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