She kicked off her heels and padded in her stockinged feet beyond the peaceful living room to the adjacent kitchen to set the food on the bar. The muted colors she’d chosen for the first floor provided some comfort, but a big old German shepherd on the white sofa would be better. Where was Roscoe? Did he miss her?
Did Angus?
She rolled her eyes and dumped her briefcase on the floor. Of course he didn’t. Just because they were attracted to each other didn’t mean he actually liked her. Although their night together had been the best of her life and she still had his teeth marks on her lower left buttock. At the thought, her body tingled.
Man, she had to get a grip. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy eating dinner by herself. Alone on her sofa watching the news. Yeah, right. Maybe she should get a pet.
A noise from the home office adjacent to the kitchen caught her attention. Had she left the darn window open? It had rained earlier and the sill would be wet again.
Another sound. The atmosphere changed. Somebody was in her apartment and she reacted instantly, turning and rushing toward the front door. Her heart sped up and panic nearly tripped her. Hard arms tackled her from behind, propelling them both into the solid metal of the door. Her forehead hit and stars blew up behind her eyes. Crying out, she went down, instinctively pulling up her right knee toward her chest to balance herself and not go flat beneath the attacker.
From behind, he reached around her head and roughly shoved a rag against her nose and mouth.
She yelled for help, her movements faltering as blood thundered loudly in her ears. There was no time to think. She plunged her elbow back into his gut and twisted her head away, sucking in clean air and using her knee as a fulcrum to toss him to the side. He grunted, going over and pulling her with him, his hands rough on her arms.
Her temple hit the side of her entryway table and she fell flat onto her back. Pain lanced down her entire body and her muscles started to freeze. He took advantage and pulled her away from the door, levering himself up and straddling her. He wore all black, including a face mask that covered his entire head. Gloves shielded his large hands and he scrambled for the rag that had fallen on the carpet.
Training kicked in and her mind went blank. Her temples throbbed and her vision blurred, but she pushed the pain away for now. She lifted her knees and planted her feet on the ground, her head ringing. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. He was over six feet tall and probably around one-eighty. The eyes looked like a fake shade of brown, and they were blank. He found the rag and punched her shoulder, holding her to the ground. Then he brought the rag toward her mouth.
She pressed down with her heels and lifted her torso, twisting to the side and grunting loudly. He tottered on top of her and she reared up, punching him square in the eye in a rapid set of hits that had him howling and trying to avoid her fist. Grunting, sobbing, she scooted her butt back and tried to get out from under him, punching down toward his groin as fast and as hard as she could.
Her back hit the door and she screamed, high and loud.
Surely someone would hear her.
He swore and jumped to his feet, kicking her in the thigh.
Agony ripped up to her hip, but she shoved the table at him. He jumped back and she surged to her feet, dropping into a fighting stance. He rushed her, and she side-kicked his knee, eliciting a pain-filled grunt. He pivoted in a decent move and didn’t go down.
“Nari? Are you okay?” called Mrs. Flannagan, her neighbor, from the front porch area.
The attacker yanked a gun from the back of his waist, his chest heaving. “Say yes.” His voice emerged muffled from the mask.
“Call the police and run,” Nari yelled, the room swirling around her. Bile rose in her stomach. Her vision blurred.
“Damn it. We’re not done, bitch.” The attacker turned and ran through the kitchen and out the back sliding door.
The taste of metal filled her mouth. She turned and tried to open the front door. Her hands slipped off the handle and she tried again, pulling it open. Gasping, she stumbled out and into the arms of Mrs. Flannagan. The elderly woman tried to help her, but the last thing Nari remembered before the world went dark was calling for Angus Force.
* * *
More bullets impacted his truck. Angus gunned the engine and careened down the exit ramp, taking the turn too fast and speeding along the quiet road. Thank goodness he’d chosen a road far away from the DC traffic to find Roscoe a burger. He looked in his rearview mirror while reaching for the gun in his glove box, seeing a navy-blue truck with darkly shaded windows. It looked like two figures were in the vehicle, but he couldn’t be sure.
Roscoe tried to jump up, but Angus pushed him back down and away from the glass littering the seat. “Stay down,” he ordered again, grabbing the gun and looking for the right place to stop.
Mom-and-pop stores lined one side of the road, still quietly busy. A long field lined the other side, but he hadn’t seen a road or even a trail yet. He passed a diner, a tire shop, a pawn shop, and kept going when he saw folks milling around at the businesses. He wouldn’t be responsible for getting anybody else shot.
Apparently the guy behind him agreed because the shooting had stopped. For now.
He glared into the mirror, trying to catch a license plate as he headed deeper into Virginia, twisting and turning on the road. The last thing he wanted was to put himself on the radar of the police, but he’d been with the FBI and the HDD, and that meant something. He flipped over his phone and dialed 911.
A barrel poked out of the passenger side of the truck behind him. He ducked down as far as he could in his seat and sped up even more, stiffening when the operator asked what his emergency was.
“This is Angus Force—” A bullet impacted his back tire, causing the truck to skid. He gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep control of the vehicle. Roscoe barked from his perch.
“Down. All the way down,” Angus commanded, just in case they collided. The dog scrunched down all the way, his nose no longer visible. At least he knew when to obey.
“Sir? What is happening, sir?” the operator asked, her voice still calm.
