Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The soft scratching sound brought Ainsley out of a fitful sleep. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes and glanced at the red numbers on the clock. She hadn’t been asleep more than an hour or so. What had woken her?

The sound came again, another metallic scratch that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. A soft creak reached her ears and she froze in place. Over the past couple of weeks she’d become accustomed to the suite’s quirks; the house groaned sometimes as it settled, the old structure contracting and expanding with the weather. But this was the unmistakable sound of the loose floorboard next to the front door.

Someone was in the house.

Fear clutched at her throat as her gaze darted around the room. She had to get away—but how? Going out the window wasn’t an option; it was a two-story drop to the ground below. The only way down was the stairs. And to get to the stairs, she had to get past the intruder.

She was trapped.

Ainsley rolled out of bed, landing as quietly as a mouse. Dropping to her knees, she slithered under the bed just as the first footfall echoed through the living area. Little by little the intruder was revealed as he moved toward the bedroom. She could tell from the build that it was a man, but his features were obscured, lit from behind by the moonlight streaming in the windows.

She dropped her head to hide her face, heart beating so hard she was sure the sound would lead the intruder right to her. She remained frozen, listening to every movement as the man drew closer.

Goosebumps prickled over her arms as he reached the threshold of the bedroom. His feet remained rooted to the floor as if he were examining his surroundings, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to control her breathing.She couldn’t stay here—she had to find a way to get past him.

Ainsley drew in a slow, deep breath and her heart nearly stopped as the man stepped into the room. She held her breath as he stopped just a few feet from the opposite side of the bed, pulse thrumming rapidly in her ears.

Oh, God. He was probably just now noticing she wasn’t in bed.Daring a glance toward the bathroom, she saw the door was partially closed. Hopefully he would think she was in there, and she could escape outside while he was distracted.

She shifted slightly, angling away from him and slowly shuffling out from under the bed. She held her breath and sent up a prayer that he wouldn’t check underneath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had she hidden beneath the bed? She watched in terror, waiting for him to drop to one knee and look right at her. What felt like minutes passed before his feet turned away and he headed toward the closet. The bifold doors slowly slid open and she could imagine him peering inside, searching through the various articles of clothing.

Keeping her head low, Ainsley slid out from under the bed, keeping to the shadows. She paused by the foot of the bed and peeked around. Abandoning the closet, the man moved toward the bathroom. Making sure his back was to her, she crept farther away, praying he couldn’t hear her soft movements over the noise of his own.

He reached out and eased the bathroom door open. As the room was revealed inch by inch, Ainsley crawled toward the living room, not daring to take her eyes from the intruder.She felt the lip of the carpet disappear, replaced with the cool tile of the kitchen, and she bit back a sigh of relief. Almost there.

Her gaze flitted to the kitchen counter, her keys gleaming in the moonlight. She closed her palm around them as quietly as possible and winced when the metal clinked together.

The sound echoed in the silence, and the man suddenly spun around. His gaze connected with hers, sending her pulse into a tailspin. Abandoning any attempt to remain quiet, she lunged for the front door and bolted down the stairs. Her foot slipped on the dew-slickened wood, and she tumbled down the last few steps. She landed in an awkward heap at the bottom, every cell of her body aching.

Through the haze of pain clouding her mind, noise from the suite filtered down to her. Pressing her palms to the rough concrete, she managed to lurch to her feet. Somehow she’d managed to hang onto the keys, and she fumbled them as she tore across the patio to the back door. Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t get the key lined up properly in the dim light. They slipped from her fingers and landed with a clatter at her feet.

Inside, Sarge began to bark madly, nearly drowning out the sound of the man’s heavy tread on the stairs. Abandoning all pretense, Ainsley pounded on the door. “Dare!”

Sarge barked louder, and she threw a look over her shoulder straining to see the man through the dense fog that had rolled in over the lake. The man’s hulking figure was cutting across the yard now. She pounded on the door, sending it rattling in its frame. “Dare!”

A light flickered to life in the depths of the house and she saw the sheriff’s welcome figure a moment later.

“Dare!” She pounded her palm on the glass. “Let me in!”

He wrestled with the lock for a moment before the door swung inward, and she tumbled inside. Dare caught her around the waist, simultaneously closing and locking the door with his free hand. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed a shaky hand toward the patio, her body trembling violently. “He’s outside! H-he was in my room, and I got out, but then he followed me and I—I don’t know where he is now.”

“Shh. Everything’s going to be okay,” he said as he eased her away.

How could be be so calm and collected? She opened her mouth, but he was already moving, stepping into a pair of boots. “Did you see where he went?”

“N-no.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “He followed me down the stairs and I saw him coming across the lawn. After that…”

He placed one hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He moved swiftly out of the room but was back less than twenty seconds later, Sarge in the lead. Dare threw open the back door and the dog took off like a bullet, both of them plunging into the dark night.