Now, I almost cried in relief at the sight. The window was open a few inches to let in the summer air, but I held my breath as I pushed it up, more, more until it was open enough to toss the rolled-up ladder out, for me to fit through. The rope was thin and light, easily unfurling down the brick wall to the ground. Chris and I had even practiced going down them a few times, my dad taking a turn as well, taking pictures of our efforts for his merit badge counselor. Then, it had been daylight, and I’d had all the time in the world to reach the sidewalk. There also hadn't been a bad guy in my living room. With sweaty hands, I climbed out the window—I didn't remember it being quite so hard to wedge through—and got my feet on the rope. My cell fumbled, and I almost lost my grip on it when I saw the hall light turn on.
Oh shit.
He was coming for me and didn’t care if I knew. With the ladder swinging and bumping into the exterior brick, I went down as fast as I could, my knees and fingers scraping against the rough wall on the way. I hit the ground and ran, my bare feet slapping the sidewalk.
“Hey!” I heard the shout and knew he was at my bedroom window. Oh God, he was going to get me. I ran down the street knowing the trees would block me from his view, then ducked between two cars. I squatted down and tried to catch my breath and be as silent as possible.
Would he go down the ladder or head downstairs and out the front door? Could he even find me? The streetlights cast a harsh orange glow to everything, but the shadows were deep, and I was well hidden.
I needed help. I was in my pajamas, barefoot with a man after me. I had to assume the police were coming. I looked down at the phone in my shaking hand. How had I not dropped it? As I escaped, I must have disconnected from 9-1-1. My fingers shook as I unlocked my phone once again and fumbled to press and swipe to get it to work.
With a shaking hand, I put my phone to my ear. Answer. Answer!
“Emory.”
I almost fainted in relief at the sound of Gray’s voice. While I was desperate for the police, I needed Gray.
“Gray,” I whispered, my breath coming out in silent pants.
“What’s wrong?” His voice went from soft to hard in a second.
“There’s… in my house,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath, looking around. All I could see was the grill and bumper of the car in front of me, the steps of the house to the right and the empty street on the other side. I listened for heavy footsteps. “Kitchen. He—”
“There’s someone in your house?”
“Yes!” I hissed, then pressed my lips together. My nostrils flared as I tried to calm my breathing.
Gray called to someone, said something, but I was too panicked to follow. “Emory, are you in the house now?”
I shook my head, my hair getting in my face then realized he couldn’t see me. “No. I ran down the street,” I whispered. “I’m hiding between cars. I called 9-1-1 but didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Don’t move.” I heard car doors slam, and I flinched, but it was through the phone. “Baby, we’re on the way. Reed called the police, too. Just listen to my voice. Okay?”
I didn’t know who the hell Reed was, but I didn’t care. Gray was coming. “Okay, but… hurry.”
Chapter 14
GRAY
The second dinner with the PR rep went well, as much as a dinner meeting can go. Reed in a suit was hard to wrangle; he was more comfortable in MMA shorts and a T-shirt than a tie. I didn’t blame him since I never wore one. I was too old for that shit. I wore a snap shirt and jeans, and I didn’t give a fuck if anyone cared. But Reed? He was the fighter. He wore the tie for shit like this.
With a full stomach from the fancy meal, he couldn’t train, so we watched fight videos and talked strategy. The upcoming competition would be in a ring, but training was more than just practice fighting. I’d been relaxed on the sofa, my feet on the coffee table, remote in hand, when Emory called. The rush of pleasure at the sight of her name on the screen still surprised me.
I hadn’t expected to hear from her, knowing she was probably asleep after her third long day at work. I’d wanted to meet her at the ER when she was done, take her out to eat, but I’d had to do dinner with the sponsors of the fight.
This was new to me, the excitement I had when I was with her, near her, or even thinking of her. I hoped she might be in bed and wanting to tell me what she was wearing. I smiled as I took the call, but it slipped the instant I heard her voice.
Just one word, my name, and her fear was obvious. Jesus, there was a man in her house. Emory didn’t have any skills, any way to defend herself. When I'd given her the tour of the gym downstairs and we’d stood in the ring together, she hadn't even known how to form proper fists. I'd had to show her how to hold them up in front of her. I was in my apartment, and she was across town, hiding between parked cars from a fucking criminal.
I jumped to my feet as if cattle prodded and snapped my fingers at Reed, who immediately perked up from his spot.
“Someone’s in Emory’s house. Came in through the back door.”
Rounding the couch, I gave Reed her address for the police. I bolted for the emergency stairwell. Fuck the slow elevator. Taking the steps two and three at a time, I continued to reassure her while Reed got on the horn with 9-1-1. In the parking lot, I tossed my keys to Reed. There was no way I could drive as I kept talking with Emory. By the time we were in the truck, I was in a full-out panic for her safety, the hot rush of fear and the rage at my lack of control had me gripping the door handle so hard it would probably have dents. The fucker had come in the back door of her house. Had she ever replaced that broken bulb? Shit, why hadn’t I gone and done it for her like I’d planned?
Reed didn’t waste time getting out of the parking lot. For once, I was thrilled he drove like fucking Mario Andretti.
I remembered my dad’s text from the night before. He knew about Emory. From his words, he’d had me followed to her house and knew exactly where she lived. Had he sent someone to hurt her? He’d never done something this extreme to fuck with me, but I hadn’t had someone like Emory before. “Holy shit, Reed. Drive faster.”
“The police should be there soon,” he said, his usual fighting focus now on the road. He slowed to take a corner and the engine roared.
“Is this the one?” he asked as he steered and skidded around another turn. Thankfully, the roads were mostly deserted at this time of night. He was breaking every law, and I didn’t give a shit. If the police wanted to pull us over, they could follow us all the way to Emory's for all I cared. I hadn’t mentioned Emory to anyone but Thor, but it seemed the men knew about her anyway. They were worse about gossip than a bunch of old ladies. I hadn’t heard that she was considered The One, though. Was she The One? Hell yes.
I gave a stiff nod as I held the phone to my ear. “Emory, 9-1-1 will send someone to your house since you called and hung up. Reed called them, too. They’ll be there soon. You don’t have to talk, baby, just keep your head down and stay nice and quiet. We’re getting closer. Don’t move.”
I could hear her breathing, quick and frantic. Fuck, I’d known Emory less than a week, and she was more to me than anyone before—she was everything. The idea of someone wanting to hurt her had my hands tightening into fists. I wanted to hunt down the bastard and beat the shit out of him. I wanted to grab Emory to me, hold her close, sink into her and never come up for air. I needed her scent, her feel, her taste like I needed to breathe. And we’d only kissed. This wasn’t lust. This wasn’t infatuation. This was so much deeper.