“I—”
A soft thump from upstairs cut her words short. Unmistakable. The sound of weight shifting on old floorboards.
Her blood turned to ice.
“There’s someone upstairs. In the house right now. I just heard the floorboards creak,” she whispered, her body going rigid. “They must’ve come in while I was getting dressed after my shower. I don’t think they know I’m here.”
“Get out,” Bear commanded again, his voice strained with urgency. “Right now. Go to Mrs. Fuller’s. The Eagle’s Nest. Anywhere. I’m coming.”
Joy’s mind raced. The front door was across the house, past the stairway. She’d have to walk right below where she’d heard the noise. The back door was closer, through the garage.
“I’m leaving now,” she told Bear, her voice steadier than she felt. “Side door.”
“Stay on the phone with me.”
As Joy moved silently toward the back door, the third stair from the bottom creaked—the one she always skipped because it made too much noise. Someone was coming down.
Her heart lurched. No time to escape. She’d walk right by the intruder no matter what door she tried to get out.
“Bear,” she breathed into the phone. “They’re coming downstairs. I can’t make it to either door.”
“Hide,” he urged. “I’m four minutes out.”
Joy’s gaze landed on the baseball bat propped in the corner by the kitchen doorway. She knew how to protect herself with it.
She set the phone down quietly on the counter, making sure the call was still connected. She hefted the bat, its weight both familiar and comforting in her grip. She pressed her back against the wall behind the kitchen door, positioning herself where she’d be invisible to anyone entering. Her pulse hammered, but her mind remained crystal clear.
Bear’s training sessions flashed through her mind.Stance wide. Grip firm but not rigid. Swing through, not at. She’d practiced these movements until they lived in her muscle memory. The element of surprise belonged to her now.
The footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs and paused. The floorboards in the hallway creaked under deliberate, measured steps heading toward the kitchen.
Joy regulated her breathing with practiced discipline—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Silent. Controlled. Just as Bear had taught her.
A shadow stretched across the kitchen floor as someone hesitated at the doorway.
One heartbeat. Two.
A man stepped into view, his side to her as he surveyed the kitchen. Joy recognized him almost instantly—Daniel, the hiker. His attention was focused on a small rectangular device in his palm, displaying what was unmistakably her bedroom. Her stomach clenched with revulsion.
What the actual fuck?
Adrenaline surged through her veins, but she waited.Patience. Timing. Position.
Daniel ventured deeper into the kitchen, engrossed in the screen. The moment his body cleared the doorway completely, Joy emerged from her hiding place, raising the bat with lethal precision.
He whirled at her movement, eyes widening before narrowing with calculation. He lunged toward her, just as Jakob Kozak had done two months ago.
But tonight was different. Joy was different.
Daniel charged, clearly expecting his superior strength would easily overpower her. A fatal miscalculation. She pivoted gracefully, using his momentum against him. The bat connected with his side in a controlled, powerful arc.
The impact vibrated up her arms. Daniel grunted but remained standing, staggering before launching another attack, desperately reaching for the bat.
Joy danced back, switching her grip. He was bigger, stronger, but she was quicker and—unlike last time—trained.
“You’ve been watching me,” she spat, dodging his lunge with practiced ease. “Breaking in to my house to plant cameras?”
Daniel’s face contorted with effort as he feinted left, then dove right, managing to grab the end of the bat. They struggled, circling the kitchen island in a deadly dance.
