Chapter 4

The sight of him, a triumphant smirk now replacing his earlier pout, made me feel sick. I instinctively tightened my grip on my purse, my fingers finding the familiar, comforting shape of the pepper spray canister clipped to the inner pocket.

"I couldn't just leave a beautiful lady like you sad," he announced, walking towards me with renewed confidence. "So, I got you these. As an apology."

He extended the bouquet towards me. For a split second, a tiny, foolish part of me felt a flicker of doubt. Maybe he was just a clueless, persistent idiot. Maybe this was just a grand, misguided gesture.

Then, I imagined the live comments again.

"Aww, he got her flowers! So sweet!"

"See? He's a good guy!"

"No girl can resist flowers. She's gonna melt."

"If she rejects him now, she's a total bitch."

The imagined words were like a splash of cold water. My brief moment of hesitation vanished, replaced by sharp, ringing alarm. My mind flashed to a news article I'd read a few months ago. A string of robberies where the perpetrators used flowers laced with a fast-acting sedative to incapacitate their victims. The scent was subtle, masked by the fragrance of the blooms.

I recoiled as if the roses were a venomous snake.

"Get that away from me," I said, my voice low and shaking with a mixture of fear and fury.

Chad's smile tightened. The charming facade was cracking, revealing the ugly impatience beneath.

"Don't be difficult," he hissed, his voice no longer for the camera, but just for me. "Just take the flowers. It makes for a better story."

"I said no," I repeated, standing up and backing away. "Leave. Now."

"Why are you being like this?" he whined, his voice becoming theatrical again, playing the victim. "I'm just trying to be nice."

As he stepped closer, forcing the bouquet towards my face, a faint, sickly-sweet smell, different from the roses, hit my nostrils. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there. At the same moment, a wave of dizziness washed over me. My head felt light, my thoughts suddenly fuzzy.

"There's something in the flowers," I slurred, my own voice sounding distant and strange. The world was starting to tilt.

He tried to grab my arm, to "steady" me. "Whoa there, you look a little pale."

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, the adrenaline of pure terror cutting through the fog in my brain. "I'm calling the police! I'm telling them you tried to drug me!"

The word "police" had an immediate effect. Panic flared in his eyes. He wasn't expecting this. His script didn't include a victim who fought back and named the crime. He glanced around nervously, his bravado gone.

"You're crazy," he stammered, dropping the bouquet. The roses scattered across the marble floor.

He turned and ran. He bolted out the glass doors and disappeared into the night.

A wave of relief so powerful it made my knees buckle washed over me. I leaned against the wall, my whole body trembling. But the relief was fleeting. The dizziness was getting worse. The floor seemed to be swaying beneath my feet. My legs gave out, and I slid down the wall into a sitting position.

My body felt heavy, disconnected. I fumbled for my phone, my fingers clumsy and unresponsive. I managed to wake the screen. The battery icon was black. 1%. The phone flickered once and died.

I was alone, I was drugged, and I had no way to call for help.

Tears of frustration and fear welled in my eyes. I pushed myself up, using the wall for support. I had to get to the security desk at the other end of the building. I staggered towards the elevator bank, my vision blurring at the edges.

The elevator doors slid open. Chad was standing inside.

He wasn't running anymore. He was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, a cold, predatory smile on his face. He'd just circled the building and come back in through a different entrance.

"Phone dead?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "What a shame."

My blood ran cold. The bright, open lobby suddenly felt like a trap, and the elevator was the cage.

He knew. He had planned this. He had waited for me to be at my most vulnerable.

My mind was screaming, but my body was failing me. He stepped out of the elevator, moving towards me. I was trapped.

In a last, desperate act of defiance, I bit down hard on my tongue. The sharp, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. The pain was grounding, a lightning bolt of clarity in the spreading fog.

As he reached for me, I swung my purse with all the strength I had left, aiming for his head. He ducked, but the bag caught him on the shoulder. In that split second of surprise, I shoved past him and scrambled away, my legs like lead.

I fumbled in my purse, my fingers closing around the pepper spray. I didn't have the strength to aim properly. I just turned and pressed the button, a cloud of orange mist filling the air between us.

He howled in pain and rage, clawing at his eyes.

That was my chance. I ran. I stumbled, I fell to my knees, but I crawled, dragging myself towards the main security desk at the far end of the building, my voice a raw, desperate croak.

"Help! Somebody, help me!"