Page 56 of Unexpected Danger
Would the authorities catch up with him at some point?
Londyn paused a moment and stared out the large windows that faced the majestic Pronghorn Mountains. The Brennemans couldn’t have chosen a better location for a home. Snow cappedthe tallest peaks, and timber and plentiful aspens dotted the mountainside that led to Indian paintbrush-covered meadows, which gave way to abundant ranch land.
A thump startled her and drew her from her appreciation of God’s Creation. She scanned the living room and kitchen, peered again outside to the driveway, and rechecked the doors—all of which were locked.
Only her battered SUV remained in the driveway, the damaged cargo trailer having been returned to the moving company, and an insurance claim filed. She tiptoed to each of the upstairs rooms and bathrooms. Nothing. It was times like these she wished Yukon, the friendly dog the Brennemans had owned since forever, still resided at the ranch, instead of with Xander.
Satisfied no one lurked in the house and that her imagination was only getting the best of her, Londyn cleaned off the table, straightened the placemats, and pushed in the chairs. The dryer timer buzzed, indicating the clothes were dry, and Londyn proceeded down the stairs to the basement. She opened the dryer, removed the clothes, folded them, and walked to her room to put them away. Just as Londyn opened the top dresser drawer, her attention was fixated on the torn window screen.
“Hello, Beautiful.”
She gripped the drawer handle so hard her knuckles turned white, and her heartbeat jammed into her throat.She knew that voice without even seeing him.
“You locked the doors, but left the window open? Thanks for that.” Dustin appeared from behind the door. He turned the doorknob, shut the door, leaned against it, and folded his arms. One of his hands—the one that had been slammed in the truck door—was wrapped in beige-colored dressing. A white pad with medical tape wound over the top of the cartilage of his ear where she’d stabbed him with a pen.
Blind terror coursed through her veins, and her legs wobbled, threatening to collapse beneath her. How had he found her? “What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet me?”
Dustin had chosen an opportune time to execute any plans he may have, since Londyn was the only one home, and running to Roarke and Mila’s house—if they were home—was not an option if she couldn’t escape the bedroom.
She mentally reviewed her options, refusing to believe she was trapped. Her gun was in the bedside dresser drawer. Could she make it there before he realized her plan? The screen, a large hole cut out of it, would enable her to escape—if she could climb out of it before he grabbed her. His back against the bedroom door prevented her from fleeing that way.
“I chose the clothes for you to wear on our date.” Dustin nodded at a shirt and pants on the bed.
Their date?
She froze, even as the sweat trickled down her back and her hands grew clammy.Think, Londyn, think!But the only thought in her mind was Dustin’s psychotic belief she’d date him, especially after all that had happened.
“The green shirt will really bring out the hazel in your eyes.”
The creep factor ratcheted up several notches, and Londyn involuntarily shivered.
“I thought maybe a movie, dinner, and then who knows?” Dustin raised his eyebrows and winked at her.
The man was delusional if he thought she’d go anywhere with him.
“The ones I chose are my favorite pants on you.”
Fear clawed at her throat, but she’d not let him win. She prayed for God to help her voice not to waver as she conjured up a plan. “The clothing choice is perfect.” She wiped her handson her leggings. “But what about shoes? What shoes should I wear?”
“Hadn’t thought about shoes.” Dustin relocated from his place at the door and entered the small walk-in closet.
“Boots? Sandals? Tennis shoes?” Londyn trembled inside as she calculated the steps to the door and the speed with which she could make it there.
Dustin remained in the closet, inspecting her shoes. Londyn edged, then full-out ran the few feet to the door, threw it open, and dashed through it. She heard him release a stream of profanities.
She scurried up the stairs, but tripped on the fourth one. Her shin bashed hard into the carpeted step. With effort, she righted herself.
He was directly behind her, and she could feel his warm breath on her neck. She could smell the fetid odor of his breath—a smell reminding her of sweaty feet. He yanked her arm, and she pulled it loose and continued up the stairs to the main level.
Dustin wrested her ankle, squeezing it hard with his uninjured hand. Londyn whipped her head around and noted the positioning of her foot, and with all the strength she could muster, kicked him in the chest. He released his hand and gasped for breath. Londyn reached the top of the stairs and sprinted to the front door. A familiar truck was coming up the driveway.
“Brodie!” she screamed his name, even knowing there was no way she could hear him, as she threw open the front door and ran outside in her socked feet.
Help had arrived.
Brodie turned onto Esther Lane and proceeded up the driveway to the spot where he always parked when he visited the ranch. For the first time since he could remember, he’d been able to leisurely wake up, sit with a cup of coffee on his front porch, and plan his day.
