She had no windows to climb out of. No way to escape. If a killer, a Torp—Noah—was there, she was trapped.
A tremble assailed her.
Was that breathing she heard?
No, absolutely not. Her imagination was running wild. Who heard breathing? No one. But everyone could feel a presence, that force of energy with another body nearby.
“Hello?” she croaked out, forcing a sob down. She’d cried so many tears. The well should be dried up.
The wetness streaming down her cheeks made her feel like a sniveling coward. She wasn’t! She was Christopher and Zoann’s sister. They’d both looked fear in the eye and survived. She could do the same. She would do the same.
Snatching her hair dryer, the only item she could use as a weapon, Fee opened the door slowly. She expected to see whoever, but her bedroom was empty, just as she’d left it, without a crease in her lilac floral print bedset.
She swiped at her cheeks and swallowed again. Still gripping the hair dryer and trying to keep her towel in place, she tipped forward and froze. Her phone. She’d left it on the nightstand but it was gone.
Sweet baby Jesus, someone had been in her place!
The revelation made her shake, but…but her door was still ajar. She couldn’t say for sure it was at exactly the angle she’d left it. It looked pretty damn close though.
Moving forward, she went to her closet and stared at the door, heaving in a breath. She convinced herself she had to make sure no one was hiding in it. Poised to strike, she raised the hair dryer and threw open the door.
Empty. Nothing out of place.
Someone could be under the bed. Right? Right.
Grabbing a stiletto to jab a creep in the eye, she went to her bed, dropped down and pushed her comforter to the side. All clear.
Physically, at least. But perception-wise? Someone was in her house.
Armed with two weapons, Fee crept forward and left the safety of her bedroom. Her open floorplan allowed a quick inventory. No one lounged on the sofa, sat at her table, or stood in her kitchen. Her entry door was still locked and all the windows were down. A check of the small pantry also came up empty.
Furthermore, her cellphone rested on the counter, right next to her purse and keys.
She must’ve been so tired and stressed that she’d forgotten where she’d left her phone.
That was it. She’d go with that and ignore the feeling that something just wasn’t right.
Hours later, Fee bolted up in bed. With the aid of her pain pills, she’d fallen asleep, but something had awakened her.
A noise?
That creepy feeling of being watched returned to her. Leaning over, she flipped on her bedside lamp. This time she made sure her phone was on her nightstand. Grabbing it, she got the stiletto from under her pillow and cursed her stupidity for not bringing her butcher knife in her room.
Not dwelling on the mistake, she rushed through checking her house again to make sure she was still alone.
When she found nothing out of place, she decided she was being paranoid. Understandable, she supposed, after what Noah had done to her.
Sitting on her couch, she realized why Stretch had always been so sad. God! She’d been so wrong to him. While he’d been suffering from the trauma of his experiences, she and Cash had been telling him to be grateful for his life.
Fee was definitely thankful to be alive, but she was also scarred and scared. Her life was forever changed, once again. Until Noah was caught, she’d always look over her shoulder. With Christopher so angry at her, he hadn’t even sent a guard detail…That was it! Suddenly, the reason for feeling as if she were being stalked by unseen forces came to her.
She had no safety net. Fee knew she could return to Zoann’s house if she wanted to.
Maybe, she should. Maybe, she wasn’t ready to live alone and never would be again. The bogey man was breathing down her neck and it wasn’t a good feeling.
Unable to go back to sleep, Fee waited until the clock struck seven before she picked up her phone and called Stretch.
“Fee, are you okay?” he asked by way of answering.
“I don’t want to be here alone,” she blurted. If that made her a coward, she’d have to be one.
“Sweetheart,” he soothed. “I know how you’re feeling. I hated being alone, too.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said on a swallow. “For all the times I didn’t understand what you were going through. Please, forgive me. I should’ve empathized with you more.”
“It’s all right,” he swore. “This isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through, especially not to see what I was going through.”
His words eased some of Fee’s turmoil and a tingling started in the pit of her stomach. Her admiration for him knew no bounds. “You’re an amazing man,” she whispered.