Page 8 of Skewed

Chapter Five

V

Something woke me.

I burst from sleep, instantly alert, sitting upright in bed. My heart thumped and I listened hard, trying to figure out what had disturbed me.

Was Nickie awake? Had she gone to the bathroom, and that was what had woken me? It was a reasonable assumption, but my instincts told me it was something else, and I’d come to rely on my instincts pretty well over the past twenty-two years.

Without moving the rest of my body, conscious of not making a sound, I slipped my hand beneath my pillow and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my knife. I withdrew it slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on the closed bedroom door. Nicole’s bedroom was farther down the hall, but if there was an intruder, they’d have to pass my room before they reached hers. Unless they’d already passed mine, of course, and that had been what had woken me.

Assuming I was right, and there was someone in the house, they would expect me to emerge from the bedroom door and would be ready for me. I didn’t want to do what was expected.

Holding the knife, I slipped out of bed and went to the window. The house was all on one level, so the bedroom window led out onto the yard. I kept a spare back door key on a chain around my neck, just in case. I wasn’t the type of person to hide a spare key outside of my house—knowing how easily it could be found—and I didn’t have anyone I could leave a spare with.

If someone was inside the house, I’d be able to come at them from an angle they wouldn’t be expecting. If no one was in the house, I’d be having myself a nice little stroll around my yard at three in the morning, for no reason whatsoever.

I always slept in a tank top and shorts, and I kept the window well oiled so it wouldn’t squeak when I opened it. Yeah, I was completely paranoid, but I had every reason to be.

I braced myself and lifted the sash and propped it open. Then I pulled my body through, thankful for my tall, slender figure, and swung my leg over to drop quietly onto the lawn outside.

Ducking low, and keeping close to the side of the house, I ran around the perimeter. There were no unexpected vehicles parked outside, nothing that would alert me to any intruders. I made my way around to the back of the house.

I stopped, my breath catching. In the small window beside the back door, a hole had been cut in the glass, a perfect circle. And not only that, it seemed I wouldn’t need my key, as the door was already ajar.

Fuck.

My suspicions had already been confirmed. Someone was in the house, and I didn’t think they were there to do anything good. My first thought went to my sister, sleeping peacefully and unaware of the danger. How much time had passed since I’d first woken—two minutes, more? Enough time for someone to be killed, that was for sure. I felt woefully underprepared with only my knife gripped between my fingers. If the person was armed, which they most probably would be, I didn’t think the blade would do much good.

Moving on my tiptoes, I slipped through the gap in the door and into the back hallway.

Thwack, thwack!

The unmistakable sound of a gun with a silencer firing two shots.

I froze, my stomach dropping, fear and horror clutching at my throat. I was too late. I hadn’t been quick enough. Those bullets must have been meant for Nickie—there was no one else in the house.

A painful lump in my throat made it hard to swallow. My eyes remained sore but dry. I was focused only on one thing now—gutting the son-of-a-bitch who had murdered my sister. There was time for grief later. Right now, a red haze of rage had taken hold, and I wanted to sink the blade of my knife into bone and flesh, and scream with the bastard as he died.

But as I turned right down the hallway, toward where our bedrooms were located, I drew to a shocked halt.

A man was standing in the hallway, his back to me. At his feet lay two bodies, sprawled out on the threadbare nylon carpet. He was looking down at them, his head bent slightly, elongating a strong neck, his hair cropped short at the nape. A black shirt was stretched across his broad shoulders. His gun was held loosely at his side.

Who the fuck was that?

A second thought went through my head—my sister might be all right.

This strange man may very well have saved my sister from being murdered, but I also didn’t believe he was in my house for any good reason. He’d entered through a door which had been opened illegally, and he’d brought a gun into my house. No, the dead men must have wished us harm, but I suspected so did this man.

I didn’t plan on standing around and waiting to see if he killed one of us. I needed to act.

Securing my grip around the knife, I edged forward. If he swung the gun on me, I’d be dead. If Nickie woke up and came out of her room, she’d die, too.

I needed to take this guy out before anything else happened, though I had no idea what I’d do with the two dead men on the floor afterward.

My breath was caught in my chest, too terrified to exhale in case the man heard me. Even my heartbeat sounded too loud, and I was amazed he couldn’t hear it pounding, sending blood rushing through my veins like a waterfall.

I wanted him dead, but something made me pause. These men had been sent after us, that much was clear, but by who? I could hazard what I believed would be a fairly accurate guess, but why had this guy killed the other two? He had either betrayed them for some reason, or else they hadn’t been together at all and I had two separate groups of people after me.

Or after Nickie.

Each situation was as plausible as the other. I needed to know the truth if I was going to protect myself and my sister.

The only person who could possibly go some way to answering my questions was the asshole I was currently stalking with my knife.

---