Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“I’ve got to go,” I croak out to Audrey and end the call. My heart pounds. I race to the living room, pie forgotten. My first thought, my only thought, is to get to Daisy. I have her strapped into the car seat with the diaper bag slung over my shoulder when I hear the noise on the back porch.
Someone is jiggling the doorknob. They’re trying to make a quiet entrance. Panic overrides my senses as I glance around wildly for a weapon. That’s when I feel my phone in my pocket. With shaky fingers, I tap Griffin’s number and wait for the call to connect.
I nearly sob with relief when he picks up on the first ring. “Someone is trying to break in.”
“I’m less than two minutes out. Front or back door?”
A noise sounds at the front. “Both.”
“OK, is Daisy with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Grab her and take her to your bathroom. The one without any windows. You lock yourself in there, and you don’t come out for anyone or anything.” I sprint down the hall as I hear glass breaking. Whoever was trying to get in must have given up on their subtle entrance.
I slam the bathroom door closed, my heart pounding. I have a death grip on the car seat so tight that my fingers are tingling. The baseball bat is clutched in my other hand. I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed it.
“Don’t worry. I’m here,” Griffin’s voice is calm and soothing as he rattles off a number. “You call Sheriff Luke right now. Then you do not come out. Whatever you hear, whatever happens, you are not to leave. Not until me or the Sheriff comes to you.”
The phone goes dead and a moment later, I hear Griffin shouting. He’s entering the house and identifying himself as the Courage County Police Department.
I put the car seat in the tub and pull the shower curtain as if that will shield Daisy from what’s happening. She knows something is wrong. She’s crying, but I put myself between the tub and door with the baseball bat clutched tightly and my phone dialing the sheriff.
He answers on the first ring, and I tell him what’s going on. Everything is passing in a blur. Nothing feels quite real or makes any sense. I’ve never had them get this close. Before, I always spotted them in the area I was and left before they could get to me.
The sheriff keeps asking questions. There’s a screaming siren in the distance.
He’s talking to me in that calm tone, the same one Griffin used. Do they hand that out with the badge? Is it something they make them take a special class in, how to calm down hysterical callers?
Minutes pass. Maybe hours.
The screaming siren gets louder.
Daisy is wailing behind me. She doesn’t know what’s going on, only that something feels very wrong in this moment. But I don’t turn to comfort her. I stay posted between her and the door. I will not let them hurt her. I won’t let them take her.
“Missy, it’s me,” Griffin says through the door.
I don’t move for a long moment. I can’t move. Someone sucked all the oxygen from my body, and now my muscles are immobile.
“Open the door, honey. I want to see your face.”
With shaking fingers, I unlock the door and twist the knob.
Griffin is on the other side of the door, his dark hair a disheveled mess. He stares down at me with worry etched in every line of his face.
He reaches for the baseball bat, but I clutch it tighter. It’s a reflex. I was prepared to fight for her, for both of us.
His hands go to my shoulders. “It’s over, Missy. Daisy is safe now.”
His words penetrate my addled brain. It’s over. Daisy is safe.
I drop the baseball bat at the same time my knees give out. But I never hit the cold tile floor because Griffin is there. He wraps one arm around my waist as I begin sobbing.
I’m crying so hard I can barely breathe. I’m crying out all of the terror not only of today but of the past six months, of the grief and confusion and hurt I’ve felt since the day my best friend died.
I’m vaguely aware of him moving my body, of the sound of Daisy’s tears joining my own. That makes me sob even harder. I’ve never felt like a worse mom than I do in this moment. How can I keep doing this? How can I keep running? Will we ever be safe?
“It’s OK, my beautiful girls. Cry it out,” he murmurs, rocking the two of us. “Pour it all out. I’m here. I’m holding you. Nothing bad is ever going to happen to you again.”
Somewhere in my brain, the sound of a door banging startles me, but he squeezes me tighter. “It’s Luke. He’s going to help you and Daisy. That’s what he’s here for.”