“It’s too late,” Hadley said, reaching for the door.  “The damage is already done,” she muttered before exiting.

Devon stared at the closed door.  She was beyond frustrated.  Was this what it was like for people to deal with her?  No.  Nobody knew what her problem was.  Maybe that made it even more frustrating.  She didn’t know.  She just didn’t know.

All she knew was that Hadley was using, and likely, she was using more than she was before.  She was irritable and uncompromising.  Devon wasn’t sure how she could reach her, but she would try however Hadley let her.

IT WAS WELL past closing time.  Jenn had been complaining about their work, and Devon was tired of hearing about it.  So, she took extra care in cleaning the restaurant. Each table was sprayed down and scrubbed clean.  Then, she moved on to the chairs and booths.  She mopped the floors and cleared away any excess dust from behind the bar.  Brennan had soaked down the bar, so she didn’t have to touch his area.

Moving out of the main dining room to the kitchen, she set to work on washing the piles of plates, cups, and silverware in the sink.  After putting them back where they belonged, she mopped the floor in the back and then cleaned the countertops of any additional residue.  The kitchen staff was pretty good at wiping down the counters, but Devon put extra effort into it anyway.  She rearranged the cleaning supplies in the closet, and then she closed the door with a satisfied grunt.

Jenn wouldn’t have any complaints in the morning, at least not about the cleanliness of the restaurant.  Devon had made sure of that.

Locking up, Devon turned around and began walking toward the nearby L station.  Even late at night, she was getting accustomed to the walk.  Brennan typically waited and walked with her. He had some intuitive knowledge that she didn’t like to walk in the streets at night by herself, but then again, he didn’t think it was safe for her to be here by herself.  He was probably right.  She wasn’t sure what he was doing tonight. She wished he had stayed.

Taking the first right, she headed down the dark street, holding her purse close to her side.  It would be just her luck if someone mugged her on her way home.  She should have asked Brennan to stay.  That would have been smart.

She walked for a while, her paranoia getting the better of her.  She knew that Chicago wasn’t all that safe, but the area near Jenn’s was pretty nice.  Plus, it was less than a ten-minute walk to the L station.  She knew cleaning had taken her longer than normal, but she hadn’t realized how much more deserted that would make the streets.

She didn’t like it.  The feeling was unnerving.  She increased her pace in an effort to reach the train quickly, so she could get back to the apartment.  There was no reason to be out on the streets longer than necessary.

The faster she walked, the slower it seemed like she was moving.  The buildings seemed to stretch farther and farther down the street until she wasn’t making any progress at all.  She checked over her shoulder to see if she was just imagining things, but the buildings in front and behind her were unbelievably long…impossibly long.

Her stomach twisted, and goose bumps broke out on her skin as fear prickled her body.  She could feel it then.  Eyes were watching her, following her every movement.  She didn’t see anyone, but she knew they were there.

Taking a deep breath, Devon tried to rationalize what was happening.  She had hyperventilated before over something like this.  Perhaps she was just imagining what was ahead and behind her.  Her mind was playing tricks on her.  But she had been walking an interminable amount of time, and it didn’t look like she was any closer to the L.  Wasn’t she supposed to take a left up ahead?  She definitely hadn’t come upon a cross street yet.

Devon broke into a jog, hoping to put as much distance between her and the strange city buildings as possible.  The faster she went, the farther the buildings stretched.  Her mind couldn’t process it.  How was it possible that she wasn’t even moving when her breathing was ragged from running?

Finally, she saw her turn up ahead.  She took off toward it, ignoring the nagging feeling that someone was following her.  Devon cut the sharp corner and saw the L station up ahead in the distance.  A stitch was forming in her side under her ribs, and she pushed her fingers up into it to try to dull the pain.  She wasn’t a runner and never had been.  Devon wondered why her pursuer didn’t just run her down.  She wasn’t very fast, her speed was already slowing considerably, and soon, she would have to stop.  Adrenaline was the only thing fueling her on.

But the person stayed a distance away, her pursuer’s eyes locked on Devon.

She reached the stairs in a hurry and scrambled up them, wanting to put as much distance between her and the person after her as possible.  She swiped her card, pushed through the metal turnstile, and stepped out onto the platform.  She flew up the second set of stairs and prayed that a train was waiting for her.

The footsteps on the stairs below her told Devon that the person was fast approaching.  She knew the train schedule, and it would likely be another couple minutes before it arrived this late at night.  She paced back and forth in front of the railway, debating her options.

If someone was coming after her, she didn’t have the luxury of time to wait out a train.  She needed to act now.  Biting down on her lip, she decided to make a move.  She sprinted down the platform to the opposite end where the elevator stood.  Her finger repeatedly mashed the down button.  She could hear the rhythmic rise of the machine as it took its time approaching the top floor.  Devon cursed its slowness.  Even if she made it inside before the person reached her, her pursuer might be able to get to the bottom floor before the elevator.

Her head whipped around and saw that the person had made it up the flight of stairs.  Devon didn’t have another choice.  She bolted into the elevator as soon as it opened and slammed her hand down on the button to close the door.

Bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, she watched the doors slide shut just as her tracker realized where she had gone.  She didn’t get to see what his move was.  Was he rushing down the stairs now?  Would he beat her there?  She didn’t know.  She just didn’t know.

As the elevator slid down the shoot, Devon jumped up and down, wanting it to move faster, but of course, it took its sweet time.  It was old equipment, and it wasn’t likely to listen to her pleas for help.  Finally, it reached the bottom floor, and the doors dinged open.  Devon didn’t think twice.  Vaulting through the doors, she hoped that if the person had already made it to the bottom floor, he wouldn’t be expecting her to run straight at him.

Her burst of speed was unwarranted because her body collided with a soft white bed that came out of nowhere.  She face-planted into the mattress, sending her legs flying behind her.  Devon shouted out in surprise, trying to right herself.

As she did, she felt a hand grasp her arm and hold her in place.  She kicked out and smashed into something solid.  She heard the person grunt, but he never loosened his grip on her arm.  Her face was shoved into the mattress, muffling her cries and tears.  She wasn’t sure if she could breathe properly, but the person didn’t seem to care as he held her in place.  Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to judge what the person would do to her.