by Grey, Helen
Now I was really getting scared. I didn't hear any sound of movement and began to wonder if my mind was playing tricks on me. Had I dreamed the whole thing? Then again, why would the electricity go out? The weather was clear, no storms in the forecast.
I remained in my hunched position for several moments, my heart pounding so forcefully in my chest that I thought it might burst. My hands trembled as I pressed them against the door, wondering what I should do. Hide under the bed? Lock myself in the bathroom?
I heard a creak on the bottom stair. Then, nothing more. Was someone slinking up the stairs? Suddenly, I wished I had a lock on my bedroom door. What to do? What to do?
My eyes wide with fright, I kept my ear pressed to the door, hoping to hear something that would resolve my fears. It was probably Jax, coming home late, and I was being silly. I had been roused from a deep sleep, and the events of the day just had me on edge.
Still, I heard no other sounds of movement. If it was Jax, I should've heard him walking past my door by now on the way to his own bedroom. I stood slowly, careful not to let myself brush up against the door. My hands shook as I reached for the door knob. I positioned myself just to the side of the door. Ever so slowly, I turned the knob. I held firmly to it so that it wouldn't accidentally snap back into place. One millimeter at a time, or so it seemed, I slowly opened my door, just a crack, just enough for me to peek through. I bit back a startled cry.
There, at the top of the stairs, I saw two dark shadowy figures. Jax and the Muslim woman perhaps? No, that didn't make sense. Besides, the two figures looked about the same size, and wore dark clothing. They were trimmer and shorter than Jax.
Definitely intruders! The killers after Jax and his squadron?
I choked back a sob and very gently and slowly closed the door and allowed the doorknob to latch back into place. I glanced frantically around the darkness in my room, trying to think of something that I could use in my own defense. I should have accepted the offer of the Sig Sauer when Jax first mentioned it, and now I cursed myself for my stupidity.
Then I spied a dark shadow on the floor beside me and realized it was my purse. I needed to call Jax! I had no idea how many intruders were in the house besides the two that had topped the stairs. It would only be a matter of moments before they started checking the bedrooms.
I fumbled in my purse for several moments, my anxiety increasing as I tried to find my cell phone. I grew impatient and finally snatched up my purse. Glancing toward the bedroom door behind me, I quickly made my way to the bathroom and very quietly closed that door.
I hunched down with my back to the door, knowing that if somebody wanted to get in, I wouldn’t be able to stop them. I continued to fumble in the purse, looking for my phone. Finally, my fingers wrapped around it. I retrieved it, so frightened I could barely flip the phone open. Jax had inserted his cell phone number into my speed dial, but for a second, my mind went blank and I couldn't remember which number he assigned himself. Then I made a face, shook my head, and firmly pushed the ‘1’.
I heard a noise in the hallway outside my bedroom and held my breath. I pressed the cell phone to my ear. One ring. Two. The steps faded and I wondered if they were in Jax’s office. I didn't really care.
Come on Jax, answer your damned phone! Three. I choked back a sob. What if he didn't answer? What if—
"Angie, what is it—"
I had never been so relieved in my life. The sound of his voice gave me an immediate sense of comfort, but certainly not enough to still my fear. I whispered into the phone, "Someone's in the house."
"Angie, what's the matter? I can't hear you!"
"Someone's in the house!" I hissed, only slightly louder, trying to muffle my voice by cupping my hand over my mouth and the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Where are you?"
"My bathroom! I've seen two so far but—"
I gasped.
Loud voices in the hallway. Doors began to slam. I didn't understand what the voices were saying, but they sounded angry. They spoke in a foreign language.
"Oh my God, oh my God, Jax. You've got to come home, right now!"
"Angie, can you get out of the house?"
I wanted to shout at him. "No!" I hissed. "They're upstairs!"
"Find a place to hide. I'm on my way!"
With that, the call was disconnected. I wanted to toss the cell phone across the room. Find a place to hide? Where? In the bathtub? In the cabinets under the sink? Under my bed? Those were the first places intruders would look!
I wanted to cry, to scream, to rail in frustration and anger. I was so afraid. I didn't want to die—
More voices, and then I heard my bedroom door open. I clutched the cell phone tightly between my hands, so tightly that I was sure my fingers would break. I held my breath. More loud talking, words I couldn’t understand.
I hadn't slipped under the covers before I fell asleep, so for all intents and purposes, my room should appear empty and deserted to them. Would one of them check the bathroom?
With a growing sense of dread, I heard the voices—two of them, arguing softly in my bedroom. Then one of them headed toward the bathroom door. I was sure I would have a heart attack, I was so frightened. My head spun, and for a second, I felt the edges of blackness forming around my eyes.
No, I would not faint! I would not faint!
More garbled speech, and to my horror, the doorknob began to turn.
I scooted to the side, hoping I could hide behind the door once it was open. I pulled my knees up to my chest to make myself as tiny as possible. I pressed my hands over my mouth, desperately trying to stay quiet.
The door opened one inch, then another, then several more.
A shout.
It came from downstairs. Instantly, the two men retreated. I expelled the breath I’d been holding when I heard their heavy footsteps running down the stairs. They were no longer making any effort to be quiet, and it was obvious to me that they thought the house was deserted.
I heard the sounds of breaking glass and cupboards opening and slamming shut. They were looking for something. Finally, it grew quiet. I didn't hear anything else.
Had they left?
Where was Jax?
How far away was he?
If he couldn't get here in a matter of minutes, he would be too late. Then again, if he pulled up in front of the house right now, the chances were good that he would be ambushed. I glanced down at the phone in my hand, wondering if I should try calling him again. To warn him.
Leaving my purse on the floor, I stood, once again careful not to allow my body to brush up against the door. Maybe, if I could see outside, I could tell if there was a strange car parked in the driveway and alert him.
Ever so carefully, I held my breath and reached for the doorknob with trembling fingers. If knees could really knock, I was sure that mine would wake the dead. I knew I should just stay in the bathroom, but I also knew that I couldn't let Jax walk into an ambush. He was a trained combat soldier. He more than likely would expect a trap, but what if, in his rush to come help me, he…?
No!
He was trained. Still, how would I feel if something happened to him and I’d done nothing to warn him? I couldn’t live with myself. I very slowly cracked open the bathroom door and peeked into the bedroom. Nothing. My bedroom door stood half ajar.
I quickly stepped out of the bathroom and hurried to the door, closing it ever so softly. Then, clutching my cell phone so tightly in my left hand I thought I might break it, I quickly tiptoed to my bedroom window. I saw the backyard and the pool, but didn't see any movement. The only way I could see the driveway would be to venture into the hallway and move to the end, opposite the stairway. Did I dare?
I didn't want to. I wanted to find a hiding place, to wait for Jax to arrive. I wasn't a soldier, I was a nurse! I wasn't supposed to be standing here in a mansion, fearful for my life. My sense of self survival kicked in big time, but at the same time, I knew I had to do somethi
ng.
Stepping to my door, I pressed my ear against it. I heard nothing.
Carefully, I opened the door, just a crack. I looked down the hallway. Nothing. Then toward the top of the stairs. Nothing there either. It was so quiet in the house, I probably could've heard a pin drop. Maybe they were gone. I hadn't heard a car engine, but maybe they hadn't brought a car. Maybe they had parked a short way down the road and then crept silently onto the property. I had no way of knowing.
Slowly, and again holding my breath, I quickly slipped out of the bedroom and headed toward the far end of the hallway. I stayed close to the walls so I wouldn't step on any boards that might creak. I made it to the end of the hallway and peeked out through the window. I glanced down, not sure if I was relieved or disappointed that I didn't see a strange car parked there.
Maybe they had crept onto the property by foot. Still, I had to warn Jax. I lifted the phone, flipped open the lid. The dull blue glow of the screen was warm, welcoming, offering a brief sense of comfort. I pressed ‘1’ again. This time the phone answered before the first ring completed.
"Angie I told you to—"
"I think they’re gone," I whispered. "But I think you might be walking into an ambush!"
"Angie, I told you to hide—"
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart started hammering again. I felt a presence behind me, heard a low chuckle.
Spinning around, I saw the shadow of the figure reaching for me. I screamed.
"Angie!"
I heard the alarm in Jax’s voice just before something crashed into the side of my head. Pain surged through me, followed by a starburst of white. Then I was falling, unable to catch myself. Reality faded and everything turned black.
End of Part 4
To Be Continued in Part 5…
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Helen Grey is the author of the hot alpha military romance series "Serving the Soldier".
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Table of Contents
The "Serving the Soldier" Series
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Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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About the Author
Table of Contents
Copyright and Disclaimer
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book was a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Helen Grey
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.