Page 31 of Rafe: Sins of the Father

“I’ll be fine. I plan to curl up and watch a movie, then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay. Good. The timer is set for the lasagna. Don’t forget to take it out.”

“I won’t.” I follow her to the door. “Please be careful. The winds are supposed to be strong tonight.”

“I will. Don’t worry. I’m meeting Missy at her house, and her son is driving us to the hospital.”

“Good. Let me know how he’s doing, and if you feel like you need to stay with her overnight, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine here.”

She turns and pats my cheek. “All right. I love you, honey.”

I wave her off, and close the door, watching her drive off down the driveway, then return to the news.

When the timer goes off, I take the lasagna from the oven and fix myself a plate, carrying it to the living room, then I flick on a horror movie and settle in.

I’m not an hour into the movie when I hear banging. The wind has picked up, and it sounds like a branch hitting a window. I go around and check all the windows, but don’t see anything. Then the power goes out, and the house goes black.

Turning on the flashlight app on my phone, I go looking for candles and find some in the dining room buffet. Now I just need matches. I feel around on top of the fireplace mantle but have no luck. Ah, yes, the kitchen junk drawer.

When I walk in the kitchen, the back door rattles, and I see a dark figure through the glass panes. He’s turning the knob and shaking the door. I back away and grab a knife from the wooden block on the counter, hiding it behind me.

The glass breaks, and an arm reaches through, stretching for the doorknob. I turn and run, making a dash for the front door. When I throw it open, I see Connor’s two friends standing out by a vehicle in the drive.

The other one must be Connor. God, I can’t fight off the three of them. I know my father keeps a gun in the desk of the study, but I don’t think I’ll make it, and Connor’s probably in the house by now.

I scream as loud as I can and ring the old bell on the porch—the one that’s been there since my grandfather built the place. It clangs loudly, and I keep screaming.

The other two are coming up the steps.

I brandish the butcher knife. “Stay back, do you hear me? I called the police.”

“Police aren’t coming, sweetheart. Night like this, I bet they’ve got a hundred calls.”

“What do you want?” I ask shakily.

Connor’s voice sounds behind me. “Why you, of course, little mouse.”

CHAPTER SIX

Rafe—

Thompson left me and Bubba here with orders to strap down all the loose lumber and plywood before the storm hits. It took us hours, but we’re finally finished and just in time.

Circling around to the gravel lot where Bubba’s truck is parked next to my bike, we see a car of what looks like teenagers head up the drive to the house.

“Who do you think that is?” I ask.

“I saw Ruth leave earlier, and Sawyer left this afternoon. The girl’s probably having a party.” Bubba stops next to his door and stretches.

I see a flash up the road.

Bubba jumps. “What the fuck was that?”

“Transformer blew. I think a tree took it out. Look at that fire.” The flames shoot six feet in the air. The lights go out up and down the highway.

Bubba slides into his driver’s seat. “I’m getting the fuck home before it gets worse. You okay on that bike?”

“I’ll be fine.” I wave him off, and he peels out, heading in the opposite direction of the blown transformer. Squatting by my saddlebags, I pull out my cut and slip it on my back, then tug on my gloves. I’m about to strap my helmet on when I hear a clanging bell, and a woman screaming.

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