Dani
The loud rattle of vibrating phone on hardwood woke me. The screen glowed, illuminating the room more than desired. Like a Pavlovian response, my heart rated accelerated. A phone call in the middle of the night was never good news. Tucker leaped out of bed, no doubt wanting to catch the phone before it woke me.
“Hello?”
“Is it Scott?” I asked in a panic. Had it been Tabby’s grandparents—who she was currently visiting in Bloomington—they would have asked for me. Everyone else was safely under the roof, but Scott was spending the night at his friend Tim’s.
Tucker turned around to face me. “Yes, this is Tucker McCord.” He smiled to reassure me, but seconds later his face became concerned. “How much damage?”
Damage? What could be damaged?
“Yes. Yes, sir. I’ll be right there.”
Sir? Who would Tucker be calling sir? He hit the end button. “What is it?”
“The office,” he searched around. “Someone broke in.”
“Broke into a law firm? What did they hope to gain? Secret micro-fiche?”
“Probably.” He snatched a pair of jeans from on top of the trunk at the end of our bed.
“You have secret micro-fiche?”
He smiled as he zipped. He was teasing me. “Loads of it.”
“Hmm.” I watched him get dressed, admiring his form and already hoping he would wake me when he got home so I could enjoy that form a little more. “Was that the police?”
“Yup.” Again his gaze traveled about the room. He walked around to the other side of the bed and bent to retrieve the shirt he’d worn earlier. “You go back to sleep, babe.”
“Are you sure? I could come with you?”
“No. No need for us both to be tired and grumpy tomorrow.” He got socks out of the dresser and came to sit beside me. I rubbed my hand over the thigh nearest me, loving the way his faded blue jeans felt, as he slipped his socks on.
“They damaged the door?”
He frowned, stopping his motions for a second. “Apparently a lot of damage was done. To one office. Mine.”
“Why would someone do that?”
He shrugged then stood, scanning the vicinity.
“Your shoes are by the door,” I offered.
He came over and bent to give me a kiss. He rubbed my shoulders. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay.” I didn’t like the thought of him leaving in the middle of the night. “Be careful.”
“I will. The police are meeting me there, so I’ll be fine.” He paused in the doorway. “See ya.” Then he was gone.
I tucked the covers around my shoulder. I liked to sleep encased in the cocoon of my blankets, where Tucker only required a sheet. After a few minutes, I flipped over, and moved closer to his side of the bed. The sheets were still warm from his body. I let that heat lure me to sleep.
It could have been a few minutes later, it could have been hours, but it was still dark. Did I hear something, or was I letting my imagination frighten me because Tucker was gone? Another thud confirmed it. Zoe must be awake. She’d probably heard the phone. I tried to go back to sleep, but this time I couldn’t. A peal of thunder shook the windows in the old home. Or had the thunder wakened me? With a sigh, I got out of bed, snatching my robe from the trunk as I headed to the window. I threw it around my shoulders and cinched the waist as I crossed the room. The rain was drilling the pavement and water was already rushing along the street. Or had it been raining for a while? Thinking about Tucker being caught in it, I headed downstairs, fighting back yawns.
I was awake anyway, so maybe I could get some work done. But what work could I do without waking Myles? I pushed through the swinging kitchen door. I immediately noticed the glass glittering in the light from above the kitchen sink. It was scattered on the counter, and across the floor and the curtain was blowing in. A short, but thick, wet branch lay against our island, but I didn’t think there were any trees in the near vicinity.
“Mrs. McCord, I presume.”
I jumped and whirled. A scrawny man stepped out from the shadowy corner behind the door.
“Just the woman I was looking for.”
My heart beat so hard it hurt. Then I recognized him. The man from the bar.
Although I tried to act like I wasn’t scared, my voice sounded shaky when I asked, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I put a hand on the island to steady myself.
Zoe and Myles are upstairs.
I prayed they wouldn’t awaken.
He stepped forward, and I moved back an equal distance, my hands shaking. Pushing thin, wet hair back, he asked, “What? You don’t recognize me?”
I shook my head.
He inched closer and I moved away until the sharp stab of the countertop jabbed me in my back. I clutched it with my hands, trying to assess escape paths and possible weapons. He’d catch me if I tried for the door, and I wouldn’t leave the kids. But if I stalled long enough, maybe Tucker would get back. I lunged to my left, but he clutched me with surprisingly strong bony fingers. I kicked and tried to use my elbows to jab at him, but he trapped me so tightly against his body my shots were ineffectual. He lifted me off my feet and positioned me back against the cabinets. He released his hold on me, but used his body to pin me in place, his hands now grasping the counter on either side of me.
His breath on my neck made hairs raise. “I think I would have made more of an impression on you. Or at least my bumper would have.” He chuckled coarsely.
Images flashed through my mind. A horn blowing. Pain. His face. Only an instant’s glimpse of him behind the wheel, leaning forward, the sharp angles of his face hardened by the intensity of his actions. I didn’t even remember seeing the driver. I closed my eyes and a few tears squeezed out. It pissed me off. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making me cry.
My voice came out weak at first. “Why? What did I do to you?”
“Oh, nothing. You did nothing to me.” Pressing his weight against me more, he let go of the counter with one hand and brought it to my hair, sliding it along its length. My stomach lurched. “It’s that asshole husband of yours I have the beef with.”
I was assessing the odds of squeezing out of his hold but my brain stalled. “Tucker?” Tucker had said something about a client.
“Yeah.” He continued to play with my hair. “I had a lot of time to think about ol’ Tucker when I was in prison. Thinking of ways to torture him was my favorite form of entertainment.” He laid his hand across my throat, and when I flinched, he tightened his fingers. “Mmm.” He opened his hand and brought it lower, over the skin above the collar of my nightgown, my robe having come untied somehow. He kept dropping it slowly lower, his breathing heavier. I struggled against him and his hand slid under the fabric. I went nuts, pushing, and thrashing with everything I had, but it only served to give him more room to glide his hand over my breast. “I think I found myself a new form of entertainment.” He let go of the counter with his other hand and tried to grab me between my legs, but the fabric was tight and wouldn’t allow him to. This seemed to irritate him, and the muscles in his arms tightened, constricting like a boa’s. “Huh?” He jerked me against him more. “Huh? You like that Mrs. Tucker McCord?” he spat the name out like venom.
“Stop!”
My scream was answered by one from Myles. This…enemy of Tucker’s, whipped his hand out of my bodice and clutched my neck again. “Who’s up there?”
I shook my head. “No one.” It was ridiculous to deny it. The evidence was bawling his head off above us.
Oh, my God! Zoe’s going to wake up.
The thought of him touching her made bile rise in my throat. He let go of my neck, and I gasped for air. Taking a handful of my hair, he yanked my head around so his face was lying against mine. “Huh? Who’s up there?”
“No one.” A sob escaped. I was losing it. I fought to keep my wits about me.
“Well,” he drawled. “You seem mighty worried for ‘no one’ being upstairs.” The pressure on my scalp lessened, then fingers dug into my upper right arm. “Why don’t we go and see who’s there.”
“No!” When he moved me away from the cabinets, I strained forward, getting my hands on the edge of the counter. I scrambled to get a hold, but he yanked me away. He was unnaturally strong for a man of his build. I tried to plant my feet, but they slid on the tile, wet from the rain blowing in the window and dripping from his clothes.
“No! Please!”
He dragged me through the broken glass, the shards grinding into my skin.
“Damn it. Settle down.”
I grabbed at the island as we went by and was able to lock my fingers around an end, halting our progress momentarily. His hand banged against the table and the distinct sound of a knife being drawn from the block warned me seconds before he drove one into the wood top of our island, inches from my hand. He shifted to pin me against the base and switched his right hand from my arm, to my left shoulder, cutting off my airway with his arm.
“Let’s quit messing around here, Mrs. McCord.”
I brought my chin to my chest, then threw my head back as hard as I could. He cursed, and I broke free. My head rang, and I was panting, trying to bring air into my lungs, as I stumbled away. Something warm and wet ran down the back of my neck. I got to the kitchen door before he snagged me, spun me around, and threw me against the wall. He snarled at me. Blood dripped from his nostrils, and a cut was opened on the bridge of his nose, leaving a red trail in its wake. Myles’ cries stopped abruptly and an eerie calm descended.
Zoe must have gotten him out of his crib. Or maybe he stopped on his own.
I placed my hope in the latter, knowing the likelihood was the former was the correct assessment.
Oh, God, Zoe. Please take the baby and get out of the house.
The steps creaked. Our gazes connected.
“Zoe! Get out! Get out of the house!”
Zoe
If I’d only reacted more quickly. But her cry was so unexpected. And my brain wasn’t totally awake.
He came out of the kitchen like he was going for a stroll, stepping over something as he did so. He looked like a nightmare, blood running down his face from the bridge of his nose. He held a gun loosely in his hand.
I froze. I was closer to the door than he was, but I had the baby. He pointed the gun at us.
“Now come on. Don’t go trying to think you’re going to escape or I’ll have to beat the shit out of you like I did your ma.”
Dani? She’s hurt?
But she wasn’t making a sound. I still couldn’t move.
“I’ve never taken target practice on a baby.”
I inhaled sharply and put my hand on the back of Myles’ soft, sweet head.
“But you know what they say.” His smile made my skin crawl. “There’s a first for everything.” When I still didn’t move, he screamed, “Get over here!”
I jumped, and began to slowly come down the stairs, still trying to determine whether I could beat him to the door. But it would be locked at this time of night. And a bullet was faster than all of us.
“Faster!”
I scrambled the last several steps. “Who are you?”
He tapped his pistol on the back of one of our dining room chairs.
“Sit.”
I didn’t want to get any closer to the creep. The way his gaze traveled along my body, while I was standing there in one of Zack’s old shirts, holding Myles, was disturbing. But it wasn’t like I had a shitload of choices. I forced my feet forward. When I was passing the bassinet, Stringy Hair waved his gun in its direction.
“Nah. Put the baby in that crib thing.”
I turned and bent over the edge, lowering him to the mattress. He was wide awake, but quiet.
I’m glad you don’t have a clue, Myles.
Realizing my shirt was probably rising in the back, and the creeper was no doubt taking in the view, I straightened quickly. When I turned, his gaze was rising from looking at me. His eyes lit up and his voice was husky when he talked.
“Come on over here, now.”
I shuddered with each step closer. He yanked the chair out and when I got near, he grabbed my shoulder and forced me into the seat.
“Put your hands behind you.”
I did what I was told. He brushed the backs of his fingers along my arm from my shoulder to my wrist and sucked in his breath. Nausea rolled like a ship’s deck. Once he reached my hand, he must have pocketed the gun, because he locked onto both of my wrists and forced them into one hand.
I’m no man’s victim. I’m no man’s victim.
My gaze traveled over the room, imagining things as a weapon, then rejecting each of them for something better. With a series of clicking noises, my hands were bound, whatever held them, cutting into me. He next got on the floor behind me.
“Spread those legs, baby.”
I shuddered, but remained still.
He slapped at my ankle. “I said spread them!” I looked down and he had maneuvered my leg so he could tie me to the chair. He was using thin, black zip ties. I sucked in my breath when it bit into my flesh. He ran a hand along my shin. “Sorry about that, angel.” He stood, rocked my chair so it ran diagonal to the table and came around to stand in front of me. He squatted, leering at me. He slid his hand under my T-shirt, along my bare skin on the inside of my thigh. I tensed, but tried to remove all emotion from my face. Slowly, he pushed on my thigh while never taking his gaze from mine, until my leg was aligned with the chair. Without looking, he slid a zip-tie from his pocket. He gave his head one hard shake, chuckling, then shifted his gaze as he ran his hand over my leg to the ankle. I considered kicking him, but I wouldn’t be able to get enough on it to harm him, so I saved my energy. Once I was tied, he raised his head to look me in the eye again. He pushed my T-shirt as far up my leg as it would go, his eyes sparking as if he was challenging me. Oh, how I wished I could have head butted him at that moment. He slapped his hand on my knee and jerked my legs open wider.
A sound came from the kitchen. He jumped to his feet, drew the gun out, and cautiously nudged the door open a crack. Dani was right inside, trying to push to her feet from the floor. Her hair was wet and matted on one side.
“Damn it!” He put his hands under her shoulders and dragged her into the living room. My heart stopped when I spotted the blood on the floor, which was now smeared by her body. She moaned some more and, once she was clear of the door he dropped her. Breathing hard, he crossed to haul out another chair from the table. He put his gun on the table then hefted her like a sack of potatoes, flopping her into the chair, almost knocking it over. Her head lolled over the back of the chair.
“What did you do to her?”
He ignored me and pulled out more zip-ties to lash her to the chair. My eyes caught movement. A light whizzed across the living room wall.
Zack!
I don’t know how he did it, but the boy had a real knack for knowing when I was in trouble and saving my ass. My words came back to haunt me.
“I’m not your problem anymore, Zack.”
Why did I continue to be such an idiot?
The light was gone. Maybe it was just a car. Maybe I imagined it because I needed to think someone was out there who would help us. I waited and watched, hoping the signal would come again.