Page 24 of Chain Reaction
He had no idea why his calls weren’t going through. But worry continued to grow inside him.
Something was wrong. He felt certain of it.
But there was no answer, which only heightened his concerns.
He pounded again. “Raven? Are you there? It’s Jake. I need to talk to you.”
He drew back, his hands on his hips as he waited.
He’d give her a couple of minutes. If she still didn’t answer, he wasn’t opposed to breaking this door down. After all, Raven’s car was still out front. She should be here.
He grabbed his gun from the holster and turned, ready to kick the door open.
Before he could, it opened.
Raven stood there staring at him, her eyes wide.
She appeared frightened but otherwise okay.
His gaze traveled to the butcher knife in her hands.
His throat went dry. He was missing something here. “Raven? What’s wrong?”
“Someone tried to get in,” she rushed.
“Just now?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Stay inside. Only open the door for me.”
Still gripping his gun, Jake walked around the rest of the house, searching for any signs someone was there.
He saw no one. The guy must have heard Jake pull up and fled.
Just to be safe, he checked beneath the structure as well to make sure no surprises had been left.
He found nothing.
Confident Raven was safe, he headed back upstairs. As soon as he stepped onto the deck, she opened the door as if she’d been anxiously waiting for him.
Without invitation, Jake stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it behind him.
Raven didn’t argue.
He paused in front of her, raking his gaze over her to make sure she was okay.
He saw no injuries. Relief washed through him.
His gaze went to the knife again. “I’m going to take this, okay?”
He didn’t think Raven would purposefully act out with it. But sometimes when fear and adrenaline kicked in, people did things out of character.
He reached for it, gently placing his fingers around hers.
Raven nodded as if she’d heard him, but her grip didn’t loosen.
Jake gently pried her fingers away, then he placed the knife on the table beside them.
