I laugh even though I don’t think that’s going to happen. I can’t let myself sleep with him, no matter how hot his kisses make me or how much I’m tempted to swoon when he does nice things for me and Daisy.
“And bring Daisy when you come over. Logan and I can watch her for the evening. Paisley would love to have a playmate,” she says.
I hesitate. I’d planned to bring Daisy with me on the date. I haven’t ever been away from her that long. She’s been with me since the moment I had her. I can’t imagine letting her stay with someone else. What if she needs me? What if I have to leave town suddenly? I’ll need to double back and grab her first. What will I tell Griffin if that happens?
Audrey makes a sympathetic noise. “First time away from her?”
“Pretty much,” I admit as I move to the microwave to warm that piece of cobbler that Lorna set aside for me. I haven’t explained my past to Audrey or anyone. What if they don’t believe me and turn me in? Daisy will go into foster care, and I can’t let that happen. I know what that’s like. Even if you’re lucky enough to be placed with good families, the fear and the uncertainty never quite leave you. You’re always worried that you’re a burden.
Before Audrey can say anything else, thunder rumbles. The storm is picking up, and I cross to the window to peer out from behind the wispy curtains into the backyard. Lightning chooses that moment to illuminate the night, and my blood runs cold at what I see. Someone is there. Outside the chain-link fence. It’s a figure dressed in dark clothing and crouching.
“I’ve got to go,” I croak out to Audrey and end the call. My heart pounds. I race to the living room, pie forgotten. My first thought, my only thought, is to get to Daisy. I have her strapped into the car seat with the diaper bag slung over my shoulder when I hear the noise on the back porch.
Someone is jiggling the doorknob. They’re trying to make a quiet entrance. Panic overrides my senses as I glance around wildly for a weapon. That’s when I feel my phone in my pocket. With shaky fingers, I tap Griffin’s number and wait for the call to connect.
I nearly sob with relief when he picks up on the first ring. “Someone is trying to break in.”
“I’m less than two minutes out. Front or back door?”
A noise sounds at the front. “Both.”
“OK, is Daisy with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Grab her and take her to your bathroom. The one without any windows. You lock yourself in there, and you don’t come out for anyone or anything.” I sprint down the hall as I hear glass breaking. Whoever was trying to get in must have given up on their subtle entrance.
I slam the bathroom door closed, my heart pounding. I have a death grip on the car seat so tight that my fingers are tingling. The baseball bat is clutched in my other hand. I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed it.
“Don’t worry. I’m here,” Griffin’s voice is calm and soothing as he rattles off a number. “You call Sheriff Luke right now. Then you do not come out. Whatever you hear, whatever happens, you are not to leave. Not until me or the Sheriff comes to you.”
The phone goes dead and a moment later, I hear Griffin shouting. He’s entering the house and identifying himself as the Courage County Police Department.
I put the car seat in the tub and pull the shower curtain as if that will shield Daisy from what’s happening. She knows something is wrong. She’s crying, but I put myself between the tub and door with the baseball bat clutched tightly and my phone dialing the sheriff.
He answers on the first ring, and I tell him what’s going on. Everything is passing in a blur. Nothing feels quite real or makes any sense. I’ve never had them get this close. Before, I always spotted them in the area I was and left before they could get to me.
The sheriff keeps asking questions. There’s a screaming siren in the distance.
He’s talking to me in that calm tone, the same one Griffin used. Do they hand that out with the badge? Is it something they make them take a special class in, how to calm down hysterical callers?
Minutes pass. Maybe hours.
The screaming siren gets louder.
Daisy is wailing behind me. She doesn’t know what’s going on, only that something feels very wrong in this moment. But I don’t turn to comfort her. I stay posted between her and the door. I will not let them hurt her. I won’t let them take her.
“Missy, it’s me,” Griffin says through the door.
I don’t move for a long moment. I can’t move. Someone sucked all the oxygen from my body, and now my muscles are immobile.
“Open the door, honey. I want to see your face.”
With shaking fingers, I unlock the door and twist the knob.
Griffin is on the other side of the door, his dark hair a disheveled mess. He stares down at me with worry etched in every line of his face.
He reaches for the baseball bat, but I clutch it tighter. It’s a reflex. I was prepared to fight for her, for both of us.
