Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(156)

The room was dark, but once she got into the hall, the night-light would give her strength. Tiptoeing, her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the hardwood floor to the door.

She paused there, listening again. Nothing. No sound. Wait. It was Milo. His low whine.

If the bastard hurt her dog, she’d shoot off his pecker.

Taking another careful step, she reached the hall. The night-light illuminated the space slightly. It didn’t make her feel better. There was no one there, and she was tempted for a moment to go back to her bedroom and lock the door. But she’d never rest until she found out why Milo was whining.

Her heart pounding, she entered the living room. The first thing she saw was her dog, and he was staring. Not at her. Behind her.

She turned and her Glock was ripped from her hand. It banged on the floor, as another hand, his hand, pulled her to his body, her back to his front. As she tried to scream, his hand covered her mouth. Everything was tight and real and she knew this was it. She was going to die.

Milo leapt at the man, but he sidestepped, taking her with him. She willed the dog to bite the bastard right in the balls. Instead, she kicked the man, connecting with his leg. She heard a grunt, and then a voice.

“Stop it,” he whispered. “Christie, just stop.”

She kicked him again. The bastard wasn’t going to take her down without a fight. All the frustration, all the rage she’d held in for so long went directly into the only parts she could still move. She banged back with her head, kicked him again and tried to reach him with her nails.

“Shit, would you stop?” She could feel the muscles in his chest, the strength of his thighs. He was big, and in her stupid sleep-shirt, barefoot, she couldn’t hurt him. She also couldn’t breathe.

It was the latter that made her still. Time slowed as she grew lightheaded. All she could think was Please, make it fast. I can’t stand pain. Don’t hurt me.

Then darkness. Then nothing.





2




CHRISTIE WOKE. It was her bed, her room, and it was night. As the muddle in her head cleared, she felt her fear surge back full force. It hadn’t been a dream. The bastard was here, in her house. She reached over to her bedstand, but the drawer was open and empty. Instead, she grabbed the phone, but there was no dial tone. Tossing it to the bed, she got up, not willing to waste a second panicking. He was here. She had to get out.

Going directly to the window, she tried to open it and couldn’t. Of course, she’d locked it. To keep him out. Her shaking fingers couldn’t grasp the lock right, and when she finally did, there were the screws above the inside window to pull free. She’d never experienced terror like this, not with any of his phone calls or even the notes he’d left inside. If she didn’t get out, she knew she would die.

“What are you doing?”

She spun around at the voice. “Don’t come near me.”

He stood in the doorway, but all she could see was his silhouette. He was so large. His shoulders nearly filled the space, his head just a few inches from the top. There was something in his hand. A mug. Her coffee mug. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He spoke softly. Barely above a whisper.

“You son of a bitch. I’ll scream. I’ll scream my head off.”

“You don’t have to do that. I promise. I’m here to help. But please, keep your voice down.”

She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.

“Christie,” he said, moving a bit closer. “Your brother sent me.”

Her breath caught. “My brother’s dead.”

“I know. But he gave you a phone number. You called that number this morning.”

“What?” she asked, knowing it was a trick.

“I served with Nate,” he said, his whisper deeper, as if it wasn’t quite real. “He saved my life.”

“You could have tapped my phone.”

“I could have, but I didn’t.”

He took a step into the room and Christie backed up, banging her head against the window.

“Hold on. I’ll show you.” He walked over to her bed and put the mug down on the side table. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

Christie watched him, knowing she should make a run for it. Break the window if she had to. Scream, like she’d threatened. But she felt immobilized. As if her feet were stuck to the floor.

He approached, and every muscle in her body tightened. He handed her a snapshot.

Her fingers shook so it was hard to focus. It helped when he turned on the light by her bed. In the photo, she found Nate instantly. He wore camouflage, complete with floppy hat. Next to him was a big guy. The one standing not a foot away. There were other people in the picture, two men and two women. The six of them were smiling. Happy. Their weapons held casually, the way she used to hold her stuffed bear.