Page 1 of Her Noble Protector

1

Lisa shot up, her eyes wide as she struggled to breathe, struggled to get away, but something was holding her down. She tried to fight, tried to escape, then she heard glass shatter and it stopped her short.

She choked back a scream.

That was when saw the light on in her bathroom.

“Goddammit!” She was home. Here in her bedroom. She always kept her light on, so she wouldn’t be scared if she woke up from a nightmare.

“Yeah, like that helped me.”

This one was bad. She went to turn on the lamp on her nightstand. It wasn’t there. She blinked back tears when she realized that was what the breaking glass had been; she’d knocked the lamp halfway across the room as she’d thrashed about. She yanked at the sweat-soaked sheet. The damn thing was tangled around her like some kind of jungle vine. She kicked herself free then swung her legs over the side of the bed, almost stepping in the glass.

Lisa crawled to the end of the bed, stumbled to the wall, and slammed on the switch so that the overhead light turned on. She whipped her head around and sighed in relief. The two locks on her bedroom door were secure.

God, what kind of loser has locks on their bedroom door?

“Shut up!” She heard her voice and realized it sounded weak. When was the last time she’d eaten? She closed her eyes, then opened them.

I’m pathetic.

The nightmare was probably nothing, but maybe she had heard something. She’d already called the police two times over the last seven weeks for no reason whatsoever—she wasn’t calling again. She picked up the aluminum softball bat beside the doorframe. She slowly unlocked the door and waited.

And waited.

Her arms started to tremble. Lisa had no idea how long she’d been in this position, with the bat at the ready. Ten minutes? A half-hour? An hour?

She was afraid to move even a millimeter to glance at the clock on her nightstand. It wouldn’t matter if she did, since she had no idea when she first stood watch.

You’re such an idiot, Garcia!

She felt a tear slip through her defenses. The bat, which wasn’t all that heavy, felt like it was made of lead. Lisa felt her right hand begin to cramp. When she tried to loosen her grip so that she could relieve the pressure, she couldn’t get it to move.

She tried again.

Ahh God.

Now her tense shoulders were starting to tremble. She pushed herself against the wall, willing her body to move. She had to be able to swing the bat if someone came in. She had to.

She listened intently. She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t matter. She remembered how quietly the SEALs could move. She hadn’t heard a thing when they’d come up behind the man who…who…

Lisa shook her head, willing the memory away. Willing all memories away, even the older ones that got confused with the newer ones. The ones with Damon. She pushed away from the wall and gritted her teeth. Willing away the tears.

I can do this. I can.

The bat started to lower as her shoulders lost strength. She rested the bat on her right shoulder; it wasn’t good because she would lose some of her speed when she swung, but she had no choice. Lisa heard her harsh breathing. She needed to stop it—it would tip off whoever was out there.

Breathe through your nose. You can do it.

She kept listening intently. Nothing. Or was there something?

What is it? Am I going crazy? How long have I been in this position?

Her back hit the wall as she slumped, but so did the bat. The metallic bing rang through her bedroom as the top of the bat hit the tile floor. Somebody was sure to have heard it. She pushed herself off the wall and hefted up the bat, trying to get back to a batter’s stance, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t.

Her arms were trembling so bad that she could barely keep them up. Lisa tasted salt and knew she was crying again. She was always crying.

Staring at the doorknob, she willed it to move so she could take the swing before she fell over, but nothing moved. It was too much. With what little strength she had left, she grabbed the doorknob and swung open her bedroom door, and stepped out. The kitchen light was on, like it always was. Frantically, she looked around her home’s open floorplan and saw nothing. She stumbled to the front door and sagged when she saw both deadbolts were in place and the cookie sheet was still leaned up against the door.