So, here we are again. I know you can’t see me, but I’m smiling…. When I start writing a story, I never know exactly what’s going to happen or if the story will have enough momentum to make it the end. This one does! I’m almost regretting my decision to post it for free–almost. Don’t worry. I’m going to see this story to the end. I hope you’re enjoying it.  FEEL FREE TO POST ANY COMMENTS OR IDEAS THAT YOU THINK MIGHT HAPPEN…you never know I might use them.

If you need to read the first 2 chapters, go to Chrysalis in the archives. Thanks!

CHRYSALIS–CHAPTER 3

In that split second, Chryssie knew she’d make a mistake—possibly a deadly mistake. Forgetting about her exhaustion and throbbing feet, she fled into the darkness.

By the sound of the footsteps behind her, these men were much faster than the man who’d chased her earlier—maybe faster than her.

Her only advantage was that it was her neighborhood.

And she planned on taking full advantage of that.

Still running, she turned into the Dunner’s yard. “Sparky. Sparky.”

Sparky started barking, just the way she’d known he would. Sparky was a hundred pound Rottweiler that loved her and the walks she took him on. Another way she made extra money.

Sparky bounded out of his huge dog house and ran straight towards her, probably thinking it was time for his walk. His feet landed on her shoulders as he lapped her face. “Watch’em, Sparky.”

The dog went to immediate attention. Chryssie ran to the dog house.

Sparky barked. It wasn’t the happy-to-see you bark.  She peeked out from her spot beside the dog house. The men stood at the edge of the yard staring at Sparky. Sparky strained to get to them.

“Where is she? I can’t see her.”

“She’s gotta be here. I saw her run this way.”

Chryssie shoved the dog house away from the fence—the fence that Sparky had dug a hole under earlier in the summer.

Good thing the Dunners hadn’t fixed it yet.

As quietly as she could, she slid under the fence and into the Miller’s back yard. The fence post scraped her back, but other than that she’d survived another chase.

This was insane.

As she ran through the yard, Sparky still barked. Those men weren’t getting in his yard any time soon.

How had they found her? Her heart still racing, she slowed to a walk as she left their yard.  What should she do now?

Looking down at her empty hands, her heart sank. Somewhere in the chase she’d lost her purse. Now, she had no money, no keys, nothing.

She needed to get to a phone to call the police. The sooner she did that, the safer it would be for her. Unfortunately, the phone was in her apartment. The apartment she was afraid to go to. The apartment she didn’t have keys for.

Of course, she could go to the manager. She looked at her watch. Almost six o’clock. Mr. Roberts probably wasn’t even up yet. On the other hand, he told her never slept late.

But those men might have gone back to wait for her, thinking that she had no other choice but to go there as well.

She shook her head.

They were right.

In another three hours, she’d need to be in class to take that final exam. If she called the police, they’d want to question her for hours. The school would probably let her take the exam later, but she wasn’t going to take that chance.

As much as she hated the thought, she had to find another way into her apartment. After that she could get Mr. Roberts to open her door, change clothes, take the exam and then go to the police. It might not make them all that happy that she’d waited so long to contact them, but she had to take that exam.

That’s all there was to it.

She wanted to be a butterfly—for herself and for her mother. But most of all for Misty. Sweet, beautiful Misty.

As she neared her apartment building from the back entrance, her feet slowed. Chryssie had to make sure the men weren’t there—looking for her.  She slipped behind a tree and waited.

No one around.

Quickly, she moved from the tree and ducked behind a car in the parking lot. Her senses were on high alert. When the time felt right, she moved up to the next row of cars and then the next.

Only one row of cars stood between her and the door.

Now, she had to wait for someone to come out so she could get inside. Shuffling noises caught her attention. Peeking out from the car, she saw one of the men who chased her.

He walked casually around the parking lot, his hand in his pocket.

Her heart rate soared.

Did he have a gun in his pocket? Of course he did. She closed her eyes wondering how she’d gotten herself in such a mess. Tears flooded her eyes. She tried so hard to do the right thing.

And she was so close, but it was all falling apart.

The gap between her and the man was getting smaller. Chryssie couldn’t run. If she did, then he’d be sure to see her. Instead she flattened herself on the gravel and rolled under the car, hoping the owner wasn’t an early-to-work person.

Footsteps.

His footsteps, no doubt. Why didn’t they go away? Did they think she was so desperate that she’d come back to the apartment after they’d chased her away?  She rolled her eyes. Obviously, she was that desperate.

Shoes came into view.

They stopped.  The shoes were so close she could touch them if she wanted to.

Don’t look under the car. Chryssie held her breath, afraid the man would hear her. Don’t look under the car. She needed air, but didn’t dare breathe.