Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (11 page)

There were two of them in the house.

Oh, God.  Oh, God.  Oh, God
.

“What?” said the man in the bathroom, and Sadie jolted so hard she tasted blood.  The work boots started moving in the direction of the bedroom, the man calling “Hey, I think somebody’s been cleaning in here,” as he lumbered down the stairs, voice growing less and less distinct.  She could detect only jumbled words and phrases like “told you we shouldn’t have waited” and “better hope we find…”

Sadie started breathing again, fast and short bursts of air that did little to alleviate her panic or provide oxygen to her terror-fuzzed brain.  She needed to get out of there.  These men – whoever they were – were apparently after something they believed to be here, and were likely planning to search the house from top to bottom until they found it.

It was only a matter of time until they found her instead.

Knowing what she had to do and that she had very little time in which to do it, Sadie forced, through sheer will, her paralyzed limbs to do her bidding.  Climbing out of her hidey-hole was probably the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but somehow her jellied legs began moving.  She thrust her body forward, dizzy with fear, and turned to the window beside the vanity.  Rain ran in rivulets down the metal roof, and she swallowed hard at the thought of climbing out there.  Heights were a serious weakness with her, but compared with rape and/or murder there was really no contest. She released the latch which held the shutters together and eased open the lock.

It had probably been fifteen years since this window had been opened, and she prayed that it wasn’t swollen or painted shut. 

Grabbing the sash with shaking fingers, she gave it a mighty shove.

Nothing.  It hadn’t moved a single inch.  Panic driving her actions now, she quickly readjusted her grip.  Come on, come on, come on…

Exerting herself till she was red in the face, the old wood finally creaked and groaned as it gave in with great resistance.  Cold rain pounded through the small opening, slicking her already clumsy fingers. The sounds of the storm grew louder in the room until they drowned out the noises still coming from downstairs.  She pushed and shoved, swallowing her grunts of effort as best she could, finally creating enough of an opening that she could wedge her shoulder beneath it.  Then she bent her knees into a deep squat and pushed with all her might.

The window squealed, and started moving.

Sadie sagged against the sill with relief.

Until she caught the reflection of light beneath the doorway, and realized the man with the flashlight was coming back upstairs.

“Shit,” she breathed, pushing frantically, growing soaked.  The wind-driven rain felt like fingers of ice clawing at her skin.  She finally had the sash open to the point that she could just wiggle herself underneath it, and she virtually dove through, head first.  The pocket of her jeans caught a loose nail, hanging her up briefly, until she heard a mighty rip.  The nail tore through the pocket, gouging into her butt, moments before she landed hard on the roof.

Where she promptly started sliding, rolling like a log straight toward the bottom.

“No!”  Sadie grabbed the wet metal seams, seeking purchase with frantic fingers. But the roof retained all the tactile qualities of an eel and all she managed to do was shred her skin.  Blood mixed with the running water to form pink rivulets in the current.

She stopped the slide toward a bone-breaking fall by slamming into one of the overhanging branches with her left shoulder. Reaching out desperately, she managed to grab it and hang on.

Just as the beam from the flashlight shone dead on her face.

Instinctively flinching to shield her eyes, Sadie realized it was the old rock and hard place.  Her presence had been discovered, she hung from a tree branch over fifteen feet of air, and it was either let herself drop or wait there for the intruder to come out and find her.  Her butt cheek burned, her shoulder ached, and it wasn’t quite clear what lie beneath her.  The ground loomed dark and threatening, but the light shining from the upstairs window was even worse.

She let go of the oak and fell with a thud onto the unforgiving ground.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, resisting the urge to just lay there and weep.  She felt like she’d jarred every joint in her body until there was no cartilage left between them.  Her poor left shoulder shot sparks of white hot agony that conflicted with the shocking cold of rain-wet skin.  Pine straw scratched her cheek, poking t
hreateningly toward her eyes.

But she couldn’t just lie there, waiting for the burglar/rapist/murderer to happen upon her, so she struggled to legs that had turned to mush from shock, limping quickly toward the front of the house.

If she could just make it to her car…

Which was in the shop, courtesy of a bad starter.

“Shit.”

Sadie changed direction and started heading toward Declan’s.  Screw the cup of sugar;
she hoped he had a gun.  Lightning sizzled, thunder boomed, rain pounded through the trees that crouched over her.  She’d made it halfway through the back yard when Sadie heard the screen door slam behind her, and turned to see a dark shape come barreling off the porch.

Freezing in terror, the proverbial deer in the headlight, it took a huge clap of thunder to bring her to her senses.  Screaming, flailing, slipping in soil turned to mud, Sadie took off on the familiar path to the Murphy’s.  It was dark as a crypt, but she could make that particular trek in her sleep.  Whoever was behind her clearly had no problem with the circumstances either, because he seemed to be gaining on her by the second.  Hearing his footsteps slapping at the wet ground behind her, she put on a burst of speed.  When she turned to ga
uge his proximity – the kind of instinct you just couldn’t resist – she slammed into something solid.

The damned privacy fence.

Reeling from the force of the impact against her body, Sadie fell backward on a pain-filled groan.  But she quickly scrambled to all fours, shook her head like a wet dog in order to clear it, and lurched to her feet through a will born of terror.  Looking up, she saw his shape, huge and dark as he made his way unerringly toward her.  To her left lay the storm-battered marsh, full of stinky mud that would suck at her like quicksand should she venture into it. To her right lay the road, the edge of the privacy fence, and safety. 

Straight ahead lay the burglar/murderer/rapist.

Sadie turned to her right and ran.

Screaming like the hounds of Hell were upon her, she forced her battered body to haul ass.  She managed to put several yards between herself and her pursuer when she saw another shape lunge out from the shadows near the front porch.

Shit.  The second intruder.

Without the least bit of hesitation, Sadie launched herself toward the fence.

Grasping the top with bloody fingers, knowing that the rough wood was digging into her torn flesh but currently incapable of feeling the pain, she used every bit of adrenaline-fueled strength she had left to heave herself up and over.  Her head and shoulders went first, her left leg closely following, and just when she thought she was home free an enormous hand grasped her right foot.

Howling, crying, feeling those beefy fingers biting into her flesh, Sadie kicked as best as she could manage from her awkward position hanging upside down.  Another hand joined the first on her ankle, and she twisted maniacally like a human windsock.  Managing to loosen the man’s grip with her crazy wriggling, given the fact that her skin was impossibly wet, Sadie watched in horror-filled fascination as her untied shoe slipped off in his hand.

She hit the ground with another bone-jarring thud, and started screaming Declan’s name.

CHAPTER TEN

DECLAN
stilled, towel held against the hair which had gotten soaked as he’d left work.  Thunder rocked the house, the storm’s raucous calling card, and the wind whistled eerily outside. But he could have sworn he heard a high-pitched squeal that sounded suspiciously like his name.

He cocked his head, heard nothing.

“You’re losing it, Murphy,” he admonished himself, going back after his tangled locks with the towel.  His mood had vacillated wildly between low-level anger and an annoying sense of melancholia all day, and now he was hearing voices.  Super.  Maybe he’d finally gone off the deep end and could look forward to a padded room.  It might explain why he’d felt so damn out of control in the past few days, so… shaken from his foundation.  Like the pilings beneath him had finally succumbed to rot. 

But then they’d been eroding for the past decade and a half, so he figured it was about time.   

Except that the sudden pounding on his front door wasn’t a figment of his imagination. 

Dec dropped the towel from his hand until it draped around his shoulders, and turned his head with disbelief.  Sadie’s car hadn’t been in the driveway when he’d passed, and no lights shone from her house – he’d been pissed off with himself for wondering where exactly she’d been, this late at night.  But he couldn’t imagine who else would be banging on his door in the middle of a raging thunderstorm.

Had that been her voice calling out to him?

Seriously, what the hell was she thinking?  He couldn’t possibly have made it any plainer to her that he did not want to be bothered. 

Because she bothered him a hell of a lot.

So when the doorbell began ringing and the pounding started up again, he threw his towel to the floor in irritation. Having Sadie Rose living next door again must be part of the penance he’d been waiting years to pay.

He stalked down the stairs, threw open the door.

Felt his world shatter into pieces,
again, right there at his feet.

“Sadie? What the hell?”  She was soaked and muddy and shaking.  And before he had time to note anything else, she was climbing up his torso like he was a tree.  Her little body pulsed with shivering tremors, her heart battered against his chest like a frightened bird, and her sodden hair dripped down his back in an icy-cold shower.  He clutched at her involuntarily, staggered from the unexpected tackle, and when he shifted his hands to get a better grip, brought them away bloody.

His heart clenched and his breath backed up, only to come out in an explosive rush.  “What the hell have you done to yourself?”   

“Sh-shut the door.  Shut the door!”  Her words broke on a torrent of sobbing as her arms wound even tighter about his neck.  But even through the deprivation of oxygen he could hear the fear throbbing in her voice.

“Shh.  Okay, honey.”  He crossed to the door and closed it.  Had she gotten so freaked out by the storm that she’d run over here and somehow hurt herself?  Which didn’t make a bit of sense.  The Sadie Rose he knew hadn’t been given to female hysterics, unless it involved face to face time with serpents.  Whatever had shaken her so badly had to be more significant than wind and rain.  “What’s going on, Sadie?”

Her body trembled, and she gulped for air, lips chilled where they touched his neck.  “S-someone’s in the house.  A man.  Two
.  Two men.  They ch-ch-chased me.”

What breath he had left evaporated.  “What?” The awful tone seemed perfectly suited to the information.  The fear rolling off of Sadie was palpable enough that he didn’t doubt her words for a moment. And it made his blood boil so fast that a red mist settled before his eyes.  

Somebody had scared her, damn it.  Somebody had caused her to bleed.

His furious gaze strayed to the door and he quickly turned the lock.  Then shifting his grip on Sadie, he punched the panic button on the alarm.  An ear-piercing wail sounded,
designed to warn off intruders, followed by a mechanical voice proclaiming that the police had been alerted.  They should be there within minutes.

Striding inexorably toward the hall closet, he grabbed his Springfield 45.  He had visions of heading out into the storm and blowing a couple of assholes away, but his first priority was making sure that Sadie Rose was okay.  Checking that a round was chambered, he avoided the windows and moved toward the
relative shelter of the stairs, where he encouraged Sadie to sit on his lap and loosen her stranglehold on his neck.  “It’s okay, honey.  I have you.”

He cooed more nonsense into her icy cold ear, stroking her wet back to calm the racking shudders. His own skin seemed to burn off the damp from the very heat of his wrath.

After surreptitiously gauging the severity of the wound on her bottom – it appeared to be no worse than a deep scratch – he listened for the sound of sirens amidst the cry of wind lashing at the house.  If those bastards had done more than frighten her, he wanted to know it before the police arrived.

“Sadie, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

Declan grimaced at the angry snap in his voice.  The last thing she needed right now was to be barked at like a recalcitrant pet.  Her heartbeat had slowed considerably, but she was still trembling violently beneath his hands. He wrapped both arms around her, attempting to warm her with his heat.  She finally stilled enough that she could talk without stuttering.

“I was cleaning the bathroom when the storm hit.” Her voice was so small and desolate it made him ache.  “The lights went out and I thought it was probably a breaker, but then I heard something downstairs. I realized someone was in the house and so I… hid.”