Was he still looking for her? Alanna wished she knew when it would be safe to go inside. Where were her mates and Grady? Once other people were here, she would have nothing to fear. Maybe she had nothing to worry about even now. If Barry was still looking for her, he might be wanting to apologize.
She was overreacting.
She slung the strap to her purse over her shoulder and rose. This was quite wonky. The thing to do was to march in there and tell him she wouldn’t tolerate behavior like that again. He was likely penitent. The incident in the garage wasn’t like Barry. She pushed open the door, then ran for the house.
The rain drenched her again, pouring down her back, cloaking her vision. Her bare feet slipped in the mud, and she went down onto her knees. She struggled to her feet and staggered toward the door again. Running up the steps, she reached the back door. It was still locked, so she fished her key out and unlocked it before practically falling onto the kitchen floor.
The relief of being out of the rain made her inhale thankfully. In the mansion, the sound of the pounding rain was muted, too, and the sudden de-escalation of noise let her pulse resume a normal rhythm. Her present position was vulnerable, so she struggled to her hands and knees, then to her feet.
A towel was lying on the counter. She grabbed it and wiped her streaming face, soaked the water from her hair, and wiped the mud from her feet. She left the ruined towel on the floor by the door and went toward the living room.
There was no noise she could detect except the intensifying storm outside. Where was Barry? She opened her mouth to call for him, then closed it again when she heard him bellow her name. She thought he was up in the ballroom. The rage in his voice sent every nerve tingling. The sensible, gentle, kind Barry was still missing.
Or maybe she was seeing the real man for the first time.
She crept up the main stairs, careful to avoid the third step that squeaked. She didn’t think he could hear her from the third floor, especially with the storm pounding the house, but she didn’t want to risk it. She reached the hall and tiptoed to his bedroom.
The bed was unmade today, and his clothes from yesterday were in a pile on the floor. Very out of character from what she’d seen, but his behavior today had been out of character too. The death of his father must have profoundly affected him. The closet door stood open a crack. For a moment she imagined he was waiting in there and would grab her by the throat the moment she approached. She swallowed hard and told herself not to be a dope.
Aware she was holding her breath, she let it out and moved to the closet door. Her fingers gripped the doorknob. Her pulse was nearly as loud as the thunder crashing overhead. This was quite silly. Just open the door, she told herself.
She forced herself to yank open the door. Her shoulders sagged when she realized there was no one there. She grabbed the keys from the hook and retreated. Barry was still banging around in the ballroom. She had time to get to the locked room.
Her hand crept to her throat, and she jumped when she heard someone at the front door. At last, there were reinforcements. She ran down the steps to the front door and threw it open. The figure who stumbled through the opening wasn’t recognizable at first. Blood poured from his head and his face was swollen with numerous cuts.
“Alanna?” he croaked.
Then she recognized him. “Jesse?”
He took her shoulders in his bleeding hands. “Alanna, it’s Liam. I’m not Jesse. Jesse died in the explosion. I’m remembering everything now. Tell me you recognize me.”
She stared up into his face. Did she dare believe what she so longed to without absolute proof? The grip on her shoulders hurt. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
He immediately released her. “Sorry, Lanna.” he muttered, shaking the rain from his hair.
“You need a towel,” she said. She went to the kitchen and found a clean dishtowel. What if he was right? The DNA would be proof, but her heart didn’t need the results of the test. She let the notion carry her along, just for a minute. What if Liam was right there in the living room waiting for her? There was one way she could know for sure. She could kiss him when she was fully awake.
Her throat closed with longing for her husband, her Liam. Her eyes burned. She was setting herself up for crushing disappointment. Carrying the towel, she went back to the living room. “Here you go.”
He took it and wiped the blood and rain from his face and hair. With his longish hair swept away from his ears, she saw something that made her gasp. A tiny scar on the tip of his right ear. Liam’s puppy had nipped him and drawn blood, actually taking out a small bit of skin. Alanna stared at it now feeling everything she thought she knew shift under her feet.