Page 6 of Avenging Angel

Pronto.

It’s going to be okay, I mouthed back to her.Someone will be here soon.

Panic filled her little face. Even if I suspected she couldn’t read my lips, my guess was she knew I had to leave. She shook her head.

I pressed my hand into the window, not that she could notice the added pressure, so I got closer and mouthed,Promise.Hang tight.

She kept shaking her head, but I was on the move.

I didn’t stick to the fence. I ran right to the back gate.

The latch locked from the inside, but with an easy twist and lift, the door opened.

On instinct, I looked back to the house and froze yet again.

I saw a shadow moving through the hall across the door of the bathroom, headed toward the back bedroom.

“Shit!” I hissed.

I sprinted back to the dining room window and didn’t bother crouching.

I looked right in.

I was correct about that shadow.

He wasn’t in his recliner anymore.

He was headed to her.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted, panic creeping in, attempting to take a firm grip.

To force it out (because that would paralyze me too, and no way could I let that happen), acting fast, even though I was not able to think as fast, I had to go with it.

I went to the patio door and knocked, loud.

And I kept doing it until he showed at the door.

Okay, good.

Or, also, bad.

What the heck did I do now?

The door was made of glass.

Through it, he looked at me.

He looked at the patio beyond me.

He looked at me again.

And I looked at him.

On the wrong side of middle age, my guess, closer to sixty than forty. His shoulders were broad. His hair was thin. He had a little gut. He needed a shave. And he had to be four or five inches taller than me.

I had a stun gun and thirty years less than him.

But he could probably take me.