Stirring Attraction(24)

He let his right hand rest on his thigh and lifted his gaze to the house lit up like a jack-­o’-­lantern on Halloween. He’d never pictured coming home to her if things didn’t work out with the rangers. Shit, he’d never thought about getting hit, living through it, and getting sidelined. He’d daydreamed about moving Lily and her mom to Georgia even though he knew Mrs. Greene wouldn’t leave behind the doctors at the town university. And yeah, he’d hoped Lily would come to him, marry him, after her mother passed away.

But that fantasy felt fucking selfish. He’d lived through that particular loss and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. And yeah, there was also a part of him that pictured leaving the rangers at the top of his game. Maybe take a promotion and transfer to the West Coast. If they both lived on the same side of the country, and he didn’t spend so much time deployed, then they could make it work. He could provide for her, take care of her.

But coming home to Lily like this?

No, she was part of his reason for leaving Forever and trying to become more . . . better . . . a hero. He’d wanted to come back to her with something to show for his time away following his dream to be the best damn soldier he could be.

And dammit, he’d thought she’d be safe here until then. He’d thought—­

A scream pierced through the still night, louder and more forceful than the one he’d heard early that morning. The sound seemingly echoed around the cul-­de-­sac. But he knew its origin.

He pushed open the car door and headed for the brightly lit house. He didn’t have a key, but he wasn’t going through the front door. The cries had originated from the bedroom window facing the street—­Lily’s window.

Bushes lined the side of the single-­story home. He stepped onto them, crushing the branches. Yeah, she’d have to replant the flowers, but he needed to reach her. He raised his fist and pounded on the window beside her bed. Inside, he could see her thrashing about on her bed. She wasn’t wearing her penguin pajamas tonight. But she’d managed to twist the sheets around her limbs.

“Wake up, Lily!”

He hit the glass with the side of his fist. Pain shot through his hand. But he could write a freaking book about ignoring the sharp pangs at this point.

“Come on,” he growled. If she didn’t wake up soon, if she kept screaming, he would need to run around the side of the house and slip in through the sliding glass door. But before he tried to break into her home—­and possibly throw a rock through the window if he couldn’t get through the door—­he needed to keep trying to wake her up. He’d shatter her slim sense of security if he showed her just how easy it was to get into her home.

“Lily!” he screamed. “Lily! Honey, open the damn window!”

A wild-­haired blonde appeared in the glass. Her blue eyes were wide and so damn haunted his heart cracked.

No, Lily. Don’t look at me like that.

Then the pesky organ hardened again. She needed help. Right now, it didn’t matter if the threat was out there somewhere, waiting for the perfect time to strike. She needed him now.

“Lily, you’re OK,” he called through the single-­paned glass. Thank you, God, that she hadn’t replaced the windows. “Let me in. Please, honey.”

“No . . . I . . .”

The word drifted through the window, pieces of sentences she’d mumbled to him or someone else.

“It’s Dominic,” he said. “Please let me in.”

She nodded at the sound of his name as if it had snapped her out of the nightmare that held such a tight grip on her.

What had this bastard done to her?

Hell, he’d never wanted to kill. He’d done it, sure. It was part of his job. He’d placed bullets in the hearts of men who disagreed with everything he believed. And yes, on one occasion a woman who’d joined their cause. He’d acted out of duty.

Tonight he wanted to hunt down and hurt the person who’d done this to his Lily. He didn’t give a damn that he shouldn’t have a claim to her. On some level, she would always be his—­his first love, his dream . . .

“Lily!”

The window cracked open and he breathed a sigh of relief. A second later, she’d hauled it up and pushed the screen down on his head. He tossed it aside. He’d pull it free from her remaining flower bushes in the morning.

“What are you doing out there?” she asked.

“Waiting for you to open the damn door,” he said. “Go around to the front and let me in.”

“You’ll be there?” she asked. Her brow furrowed and he could read the doubt layered into her expression.