Don’t Lock Me In Again Novels & Stories

The map on the wall is bleeding red. Every red dot represents a human being currently trapped in a state of involuntary, relentless arousal. A surgeon in Chicago. A bus driver in London. A kindergarten teacher in Berlin. "We can't turn it off," Alex says, his voice tight with frustration. "The blockchain lock is holding. We have to wait for the encryption cycle to reset. Two hours." "They don't have two hours," I say, looking at the flood of panic messages scrolling on the sidebar. "People are going to get hurt. Or fired. Or arrested."

“For now, your marriage will remain a secret. But remember—this is only temporary. Mom will still prepare a proper, lavish wedding celebration for you. When you’re ready to make it public, just tell me.” “Yes, Mom,” Anna replied softly. Matilda wrapped her in a warm embrace, as if trying to soothe the storm still raging inside Anna’s chest. “You should rest now,” Jonathan said gently, rubbing Anna’s back with quiet affection. Anna nodded. Together with Liam, she headed up to the third floor. But as soon as they arrived, Anna instinctively walked toward her own bedroom. She turned the doorknob—locked. “Why is it locked?” she murmured, confused.

Just heavy silence that made my skin crawl. I walked back to the desk on shaky legs and opened the laptop again. Still locked. Useless. I looked around the office for anything else…a phone, something that could help. Drawers were locked too. Everything was secured like a fortress. Of course it was. This was the Don’s private space. And I was locked inside. How the hell was I supposed to get out of this?

Let them know I’m not breaking. I checked the locks three times. Not out of fear. Out of promise. I’m still here. They’re still safe. And as long as that’s true, I’ll keep fighting. Even if it costs me everything. I whispered to my belly tonight: “You’re real. You’re mine. And no contract can change that.” Nate kicked. Leo rolled. And for the first time, I believed it too. But then the knock came. Not soft. Not polite. Three hard raps that shook the door in its frame.

“Remember, I own this building? I can always get a duplicate key. So no matter how many locks you put on your bedroom door, I’ll still get in. I’ll always get in—and I’ll keep getting in.” So that’s what he did! I really thought I forgot to lock the door. Wait… why does “keep getting in” sound like it has a double meaning? I need to go to church and cleanse my thoughts. “There’s really no escaping you, huh? Well, at least I escaped you today. Hehe.” I teased him again. “Go ahead, enjoy your stay there. But don’t be surprised if you wake up tomorrow and my face is the first thing you see. You managed to hide from me for seven years—well, sorry wife, not this time.” He sounds creepy.

" With that, he set down the parfait and left. I stared at the closed door. Not a single tear had fallen. My phone vibrated. It was a message from my assistant. [Miss Isabella, everything has been sold.] The time to leave had come. Late that night, I removed the wedding ring from my finger, the symbol of a five-year joke, and left it inside the safe together with a signed divorce agreement. Then I uploaded a scheduled video to Instagram and tossed my phone into a corner of the room. I sent the maid at my door away, telling her I wanted her to grind me a cup of coffee before picking up the lighter from the table.

A drop of water fell onto my bandage. "No one's ever going to touch you again." The door opened again. Dad stood in the doorway, holding onto the frame like he needed it to stay upright. He looked decades older. He looked at me, his mouth opening and closing. "William, I…" I flinched. My lips moved, but no sound came out. Judy watched my mouth, went still for a moment, then spoke for me. "He's saying… Don't lock him in a dark room again."

"Have you lost your mind? 200 dollars per lock? Why don't you just go rob people instead? If something happens to Mom, I won't let you off the hook! Hurry up and unlock them now!" Jake looked at me with a wronged expression. "I'm just following the rules and regulations, Mitch. Can you please not make things difficult for me? "The unlocking fees may be a little expensive, but it'll get your mom to the hospital faster. You wouldn't be so cheap that you won't even pay that, right?" I jabbed a finger at his face and roared, "You dare to take money like this? Have you no shame?" The smile on Jake's face froze, and he said indifferently, "Fine, Mitch. If you don't want to pay, then forget it. You

Chapter 28 — The Red Lock **Riya** Thirty seconds. The number sat in my skull like a live wire. The lock on the suite door flickered once, the soft green light dying into a hard, accusing red. The electronic tone that followed was almost polite. Almost. Like the system itself was embarrassed to announce how thoroughly it had been violated. I did not scream. Screaming was for people who still believed the universe owed them fairness. I moved.

My husband, Beck Callahan, has manic disorder. Every time we get into an argument, he coldly drives me to a hotel. "My condition's unstable, and I might hurt you. I'm changing the locks at home, but I'll give you the new keys once I calm down." I've always thought that I'm lucky that he's willing to restrain his temper for my sake. Hence, as soon as I receive the new key, I hurry back home. That's what I believe until I run into Beck's therapist, Dr. Smith, after my gynecology appointment and learn that he hasn't had an episode in five years. For reasons I can't explain, I pull up the surveillance footage outside our front door. Then, I see my best friend, Iria Sinclair, pull out a key