Her Last Goodbye (Morgan Dane Book 2)(72)

Sophie’s eyes were opened so wide that the whites showed in the dark corridor.

Morgan’s brain processed the scene in front of her with horror. She looked for a weapon. But both of his hands were visible and occupied. The chill in her body transformed itself into a cold and furious calm.

“Release my daughter.” Morgan didn’t recognize her own voice. It was full of a menace she’d never felt before. She’d secured her gun in its safe when she’d arrived home and set the alarm. Not that she’d risk firing a shot with the intruder using her daughter as a shield. TV shows aside, pistols were not accurate enough to fire over a child’s head, especially in a dark hallway with adrenaline mainlining through Morgan’s bloodstream.

So what could she do?

She took a step closer.

He moved his hand from Sophie’s arm to her chin. “If you take one more step, I’ll snap her neck.” His voice was an unidentifiable whisper.

Morgan assessed his hold on her daughter. With one hand across her face and the other cupping her, could he scissor his hands with enough force to break her neck?

Sophie was tiny and fragile, and Morgan couldn’t take the risk.

Fear and adrenaline flooded her veins, but Morgan’s mind felt strangely detached. Some primitive instinct kept her concentrated on getting her child away from the intruder without giving in to her terror.

“What do you want?” she asked. She didn’t recognize her own voice. The calm inside her was steely and determined and pissed off beyond measure. It waited, biding its time, until it could be unleashed upon this man who dared to touch her baby.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Done.” She would do whatever it took to get him away from her child. Sacrifice herself, kill him with her bare hands, claw his eyes out. There was no price too high, and no act beyond consideration. “Let go of her.”

He chuckled, a low and mocking sound that rippled along the goose flesh covering Morgan’s arms under her sweatshirt. He was enjoying himself. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

“Tell me what you want me to do.” She waited for his response.

“She’s coming too.”

Sophie turned her head and bit him. He jerked his hand away from her face. “Ow. You little . . .”

His hand rose, as if he was going to smack the child. But she didn’t give him the chance. Her little body pivoted to face him, her arms flailing wildly to keep him from getting a fresh grip.

The hallway seemed to grow longer as Morgan rushed forward.

Six feet still separated them as Sophie kicked out. Her bare foot connected with his leg. One flailing fist struck his groin. He doubled over, and Sophie broke away, running behind her mother.

The flash of relief was fleeting.

The man got to his feet. They were too close now. Barely five feet separated them. Sophie clutched Morgan’s thigh, inhibiting her movement.

His head turned toward the doorway on his left. The girls’ bedroom.

Morgan wanted to put herself between him and her other two children. Without lowering her gaze, she pushed Sophie backward. “Go in Mommy’s room and lock the door.”

Crying softly, Sophie clung to Morgan.

“Do it now.” Morgan kept her gaze firmly on the intruder, watching his head, hands, and hips for signs of his intended movements.

Sophie let go. Morgan heard her whimpering and her bare feet slapping the hardwood as she ran down the short hallway. Her heart bled for the child, but she had to protect her first. Comfort would have to come later, when they were all safe. A door slammed shut. A lock clicked.

But Morgan knew that flimsy interior door wouldn’t keep her daughter safe for long. And now her older two children were also in danger.

“Don’t move.” Grandpa’s voice came from the shadows behind the intruder. Light glinted off the pistol in his hand. “I promise that I will shoot you without hesitation.”

Morgan breathed.

Thank God.

Grandpa was in the dark and smart enough to stay there. Moving any closer to the intruder would show how old and frail he was, plus closer quarters would give the intruder the opportunity to disarm him.

The intruder froze for a few long seconds, then turned and bolted for the front of the house. He unlocked the door, opened it, and disappeared outside. The security lights illuminated as his footsteps thudded on the concrete stoop. Gun in hand, Grandpa shuffled after him, stopping on the front stoop and scanning the brightly lit front yard.

Morgan hesitated. Part of her wanted to follow Grandpa. He wouldn’t be able to catch the intruder, and she hated the thought of him getting away. She didn’t even know his identity. But Grandpa would make sure the man was gone. She needed to check on each member of her family.