I paused to listen, the sound of more of my possessions being broken greeting me through the closed door.
Abruptly, it all stopped, and a chill raced down my spine as a single word greeted me. Cold, low, and ominous.
“Sutton…”
Oh, god. TheyknewI was here. Whoever this was knewme.
In more of a hurry now, I went to my nightstand, digging into the drawer for my spare car key, which I kept stashed there for exactly this kind of emergency. Then I swiped up my phone and clicked on the flashlight. I dropped to all fours and peered under the bed. Boots’ bright eyes stared back.
“C’mon, buddy,” I cajoled in a whisper-hiss. “We’re going on a little adventure.”
Boots didn’t move.
Damn stubborn cat.
Keeping the flashlight trained on him with one hand, I reached in with the other and snagged his narrow collar before he could bolt. Closing my fist around his tags to prevent them from tinkling and giving us away, I dragged him out—a Herculean feat once he dug his claws into the carpet.
I tucked him into my hoodie against my chest, holding him with one arm as I stuffed my phone in my pocket and moved to the only window in my bedroom.
Thank god I live in a one-story house.
And thank god I just had these windows replaced.
The sash rose soundlessly when I unlocked and lifted it. A beat later, as footsteps creaked the floor right outside my bedroom, I had the screen removed and pushed outside. My doorknob jiggled as I climbed onto the sill and awkwardly dropped to the ground only four feet below, Boots still cradled against me.
The sound of a well-placed kick busting down my bedroom door echoed into the quiet of my neighborhood as I took off for the driveway.
When I reached it, I discovered all four tires had been slashed, and my fear increased tenfold.
Grateful I’d had the foresight to bundle up, I took off into the woods that lined my backyard. I’d lived in this house for years and had long ago carved a path through the towering maples and pines. From memory alone, I located it and crept along it, certain I didn’t have a tail before picking up my pace into a run.
My journey was awkward and exhausting thanks to Boots curled against me, the only sounds that of the carpet of leaves crunching beneath my feet and my heavy breathing. Eventually, when I was certain I’d put enough distance between me and my house, I slowed to a walk. Fear continued to course through myveins, making my legs wobble, but I powered ahead, heading for the place I knew I’d be safest, refusing to examine too closely whyhiswas the first place I thought to go.
Still, my head was constantly on a swivel, my progress halting with the smallest of unidentifiable sounds. Who knew what lurked in these woods? Would I also have to fight off a bear or wolf tonight? Unlikely, but my mind doom spiraled, and I wished I’d thought to grab my pepper spray.
By the time I reached my destination after ages of stops and starts, constantly pulling up the GPS on my phone to make sure I was going in the right direction, I was sweating through my multiple layers of clothing, and over an hour had passed. Breaking free from the tree line, I stilled, realizing what a giant mistake I’d made in coming here. My paramedic partner lived right around the corner from me, for crying out loud. Why hadn’t I just gone there?
But I wasn’t about to turn around and go back, not when I’d come all this way, so I steeled my spine and walked around to the front of the house.
Motion-detecting flood lights on the attached garage illuminated my approach, and I shielded my eyes against the sudden brightness.
Those damn lights must also have been attached to a sensor, because before I could really get my bearings, the front door opened, and the owner appeared.
Wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a threadbare Dusk Valley athletics tee, likely a remnant of his high school football days, he appeared barefoot in the doorway of his house. The shirt conformed toeverything. Straining against his biceps, clinging to juicy pecs, suctioning to every hill and valley of his abs.
Beneath his sleeves, his strong, muscle-corded arms were covered in tattoos—way more than he’d had when we were dumbcollege kids. I wondered how many more he had. Back then, he’d just been getting started, with only half of his right arm covered from shoulder to elbow. Now, they crawled down over the back of his hands and knuckles and up his neck. Did they spread across his back too? Down his torso and legs?
I hated myself for how badly I wanted to find out.
No, not hated. More like…surprised with myself? It had been a long damn time since I’d experienced this level of instantlustfor someone. Leave it to Lane Lawless to bring it out in me.
At first glance, Lane was menacing. Big, broad, broody. I supposed that was part of what made him a good cop; no one wanted to mess with him. The rest was, of course, dictated by the deep-seatedgoodnessinside of him, the soft, teddy bear center protected by the tough exterior.
No thirty-six-year-old man had the right to be as sexy as he was. He was physically perfect, and his physique hadn’t suffered much in the time he’d been forced to rest after his gunshot.
I wasn’t afraid ofhim, but I was terrified of the pistol he had pointed with one arm in my direction.
“If you take another step, I swear I’ll shoot.”
