Silence by Becca Fitzpatrick

to the restrooms. I strained to hear the sound again. Given all the false alarms lately, I was afraid this was the beginning of another hallucination.
    Then I heard a second sound. The faint squeak of a door closing. I was pretty sure this sound was real, which meant someone could be hiding back there, just out of sight. Anxiety pinched my stomach, and I hustled outside.
    Rounding the building, I located the pay phone and punched in 9-1-1. I heard only one ring before a hand reached over my shoulder, clicked the receiver, and ended the call.

CHAPTER
8
    I SWUNG AROUND .
     
    He had a good six inches and fifty pounds on me. The lights from the parking lot did a poor job of reaching back here, but I ran down a quick list of identifying features: reddish-blond hair gelled and spiked, watery blue eyes, studs in both ears, a shark-tooth necklace. Light acne on the lower half of his face. A black tank top that showed off a muscle-y bicep inked with a fire-breathing dragon.
    “Need help?” he asked with a twist of his lips. He offered me his cell phone, then braced an arm on the pay phone, leaning into my private space. His smile was a little too sweet, a little too superior. “Hate to see a pretty girl waste money on a call.”
    When I didn’t answer, he frowned slightly. “Unless you were placing a
free
call.” He scratched his cheek, a show of deep contemplation. “But the only free call you can make from a pay phone is … to the police.” Any hint of the angelic vanished from his tone.
    I swallowed. “There was no one inside at the front counter. I thought something was wrong.” And now I
knew
something was wrong. The only reason he’d care if I was calling the police was if it was in his best interest to keep them far, far away.
A robbery, then?
    “Let me make this simple for you,” he said, slouching down and putting his face close to mine, as if I were five years old and needed slow, clear instruction. “Get back in your car and keep driving.”
    It dawned on me that he didn’t realize I’d walked here. But the thought became a moot point when I heard scuffling coming from the alley just around the corner. There was a slew of curse words, and a grunt of pain.
    I considered my options. I could take Shark Tooth Necklace’s advice and leave quickly, pretending I’d never been here. Or I could run to the next gas station down the road and call the police. But by then, it might be too late. If they were robbing the store, Shark Tooth and his friends weren’t going to take their sweet time. Myonly other option was to stay put and make an either very brave, or very stupid, attempt to stop the robbery.
    “What’s going on back there?” I asked innocently, signaling the rear of the building.
    “Look around,” he replied, his voice soft and silky. “This place is empty. Nobody knows you’re here. Nobody’s ever going to remember you were here. Now be a good girl and get back in your car and drive away.”
    “I—”
    He pressed his finger to my lips. “I’m not going to ask again.” His voice was gentle, flirtatious even. But his eyes were icy pits.
    “I left my keys on the counter inside,” I said, using the first excuse that came to mind. “When I first walked in.”
    He took me by the arm and hauled me around to the front of the building. His stride was twice as long as mine, and I found myself half jogging to keep up. All the while I was mentally shaking myself, ordering my ingenuity to think up an excuse for when he figured out I was lying. I didn’t know how he’d react, but I had a general idea, and it made my stomach flip upside down.
    The door chimed on our way in. He forced me over to the cash register and flicked aside a cardboard display of ChapStick and a plastic bin of key chains for sale, clearly hunting for my lost keys. He moved to the next register and repeated his rushed hunt. Suddenly he stopped. His eyes drifted idly over me. “Want to tell me where your keys really are?”
    I