But as suddenly as she had been grabbed, she found herself released, and she heard him speak bitingly once more. "We'll get some light on the situation."
Free! Bryn realized. She was free! With no other thought in her mind, she grabbed the wrought-iron railing that enclosed the alcove and pelted over it. The hallway loomed before her; in desperation she ran, fear shooting through her limbs. "Hell!" he snapped out behind her.
She reached the window and leaped to the sill. "Stop!" he commanded harshly. She looked back to see that he had sprung with the lithe agility of a panther, hurling himself at her. She couldn't go out; she had to come back in to avoid him.
She jumped back a split second before his shoulder slammed against the window. But what now, she wondered in dismay. Run, don't think. Run!
She started to run, but not fast enough. A hand grabbed her sweater. Frantically she jerked back, and her sweater tore away in his hand. Without reason or thought, with blind panic guiding her, she charged into the hallway.
Not back to the den! It was a dead end. She raced furiously up the stairway and was on the landing before she realized that this, too, was a dead end. No way out. If he caught her, he would rip her to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
shreds or call the police. Or rip her to shreds and call the police.
He was right behind her. She heard his feet on the stairs; she could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her skin....
Her eyes fell on the door at the end of the hall and she raced toward it. Reached it, and flungherself into the room. He was behind her! Slam it, slam it, slam it--it wouldn't slam!
No, it wouldn't slam because he had braced himself against it. Bryn gasped as the air was suddenly sucked from her lungs far; she was going, when his charge brought his strength crashing against her, his shoulder bearing into her abdomen and sweeping her off her feet.
She had the sensation of flying and then of brutally crashing.Against the bed. And he was on top of her....
"No! Please!" she gasped.
She started to fight, almost insane with terror as she felt him climb on top of her, pinning her down. She struck out at him with all her strength, but it was futile. He caught her flailing arms and pinned them down, too.
Mercilessly he ripped the ski mask from her head and face. The fickle moon suddenly sprinkled the room with a soft glow, and she was meeting his narrowed, gleaming eyes.
"Ah, Miss Keller..."
Caught...she had been caught. He kept talking; she tried to answer.So frightened, so terrified--so very sorry that she had always shown him such hostility.
But even that was not the end of it. No.
The nightmare had only begun.
She was not the only intruder. There was the sound of footsteps, and suddenly she was lying beside him half naked-- barely breathing as the intruder approached. Knowing the meaning of fear, yet knowing Lee's touch, feeling him, sensing his strength and determination...
Then he was gone, and again she knew terror as she was left with only the echo of his anger--and the sound of bullets.
Bullets!
But Lee was all right. ThankGod! Except that he was quizzing her again, and she was answering, trying to answer, and then he was warning her. "Be in the kitchen in five minutes flat, and be prepared to tell me this whole story--with no holes!"
Her five minutes were up. It was time to get to the kitchen.
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Chapter 8
Lee turned on the hall light as he passed it; it seemed senseless to keep the house in darkness now. He glanced at the doorframe where the first bullet had lodged. No real problem there; a little putty would take care of it. But the front door was going to be another story.
A shaft of anger stabbed him. Pictures! For a lousy set of pictures someone tormented Bryn to near lunacy and shot at him, nearly killing him and ripping the hell out of his home.
He paused. At least now...now he could begin to understand Bryn.
He padded down the stairs and looked at the front door. He could wire it closed for the night, but he'd have to replace both it and the lock in the morning. He frowned then, thinking that the police should really be called. But Bryn seemed to be in a real panic. He couldn't blame her, not when the child was involved.
Nor could he be angry anymore about last night. She had come to him because she had been desperate.
So why the hell hadn't she just talked to him, he wondered, pain knifing through him. Did she really dislike and distrust him so thoroughly that she couldn't trust him, even when she was desperate?
They would, he decided grimly, get to the bottom of things, and as soon as he understood it more fully, he was determined that he would see an end to it all.