Free Breaking Free by Teresa Reasor Page A

unpack a few boxes?” Zoe asked.
    “No, I just need a little while to myself.”
    Zoe slid her arms around her mother, her hold fierce.
    Clara clung to her, her arms tight, her body taut. After several moments, her muscles relaxed and she stepped back. She brushed at the tears that glazed her cheeks. Weariness invaded her expression. “Maybe I just need a nap. Let’s go.”
    “Is there somewhere you need to stop before I drop you off at the house?” Zoe asked during the short elevator trip to the lobby.
    “No, I don’t think so.”
    As the elevator door opened Clara murmured, “Shit---I forgot the knife and Brett’s souvenirs.”
    Zoe laid a hand against the door to hold it open. “No problem. I can run back up and get them. It won’t take a minute. Why don’t you go on to the car and wait for me.” She leaned against the door to keep it open while she dug in her purse for the keys. She handed them to Clara, accepted the ones her mother offered her, and then stepped back inside the elevator, allowing the door to close.
    Was there any way at all she could make things easier for her mother? She shook her head and raked her fingers through the long ponytail that hung over her shoulder. Frustration clogged her throat and she drew a deep breath. If only they weren’t so damn helpless in all this.
    The elevator door opened and she limped out into the hall. She thumbed through the keys her mother had handed her and selected one.
    The air inside the apartment smelled fresher for having the sliding glass doors open for a time, but there was also an elusive scent hanging in the room. Shaving cream? Suntan lotion? No.
    Zoe strode down the hall into the bedroom. The sheathed knife and sock lay together on the nightstand. She picked up the knife and swinging her shoulder bag forward, unzipped it and shoved it inside.
    Her eyes fell on the chest in which she’d placed Brett’s underwear and socks. The top drawer hung open. Hung open when she’d closed it just moments before.
    Time stopped.
    One beat of her heart shoved into another. Every breath drew the indistinct scent into her lungs.
    Her body seemed frozen, numb, her limbs liquid.
    Silence stretched as loud as a scream.
    Her attention swung to the closet and froze. Was someone inside hiding? Were eyes looking through the slats at her? The louvered doors seemed to bow forward though they didn’t move.
    Her fingertips rested on the sheathed knife. She’d never get the knife out and if she did he’d take it away from her and---
    Feeling light headed, she pressed a hand to the nightstand. The sock filled with stones lay beneath her palm. She wrapped the top of the cotton garment around her hand. As the weighted toe swung upward, the stones rattled, like marbles clicking together. Her lungs seized. Her body shook.
    Move! Move god damn it! Her legs felt spongy and weak as she hedged sideways giving the closet a wide birth. If he came out of the closet would she have the strength to swing the sock? Her shoulder blades brushed hard against the doorframe as she strained away from it and backed into the hall.
    Her joints felt loose, her steps clumsy as, reaching the end of the hall, she turned and ran out of the apartment.
    A few moments later, she hugged the elevator wall, as her lungs worked like bellows. Her leg ached and burned as though the damaged muscle had been ripped apart.
    Had there been someone there? Or was it all in her imagination?
    There had to be someone there? She’d closed the drawer. She knew she had. She wasn’t crazy.
    Had there really been a scent left behind. Or could it have just been Flash’s aftershave? Had she noticed him wearing aftershave? Would it have lingered in the air with the balcony door open? Not likely.
    She had to get the manager to go back up with her and check the apartment.
    They’d be gone by then. Thank God. But how had they gotten in?
    The sock hung heavily against her side. Thank God she hadn’t had to use it.

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