Deadly Revenge (Pearl River #3)

Chapter 51

51

After Max left, Jenna laid her keys on the island and checked all the doors and windows to make sure they were locked. Then she cleaned up the dishes, her face heating up when she thought of being in Max’s arms.

She crawled into bed, making sure her phone was on the nightstand and her service pistol beside her in bed. That should make Max happy. Her thoughts turned to him again, reliving the kiss. Heat spread through her chest at how she welcomed it.

Don’t go there. Was she even ready for this? Even if Max wasn’t like Phillip, she was pretty sure he wasn’t in the market for a wife. Wife? Where did that come from? She wasn’t in the market for a husband. She turned over to her side. Max’s kiss was her last thought before drifting off.

Jenna woke with a start. But why? She flipped over on her back and lay still, her eyelids barely cracked, listening. Light filtered in through her bedroom window from the outside flood lamp. She picked up an unfamiliar smell, then something moved. No, someone.

“I know you’re awake.”

The raspy whisper sent chills through her. Pretend to sleep and catch him off guard? She cracked her eyes open enough to see a man standing at the foot of her bed, clothed in black, his face hidden by a dark hoodie.

She shifted her gaze to the gun in his hand.

In one movement, she rolled out of bed with her gun and fired.

He jumped sideways and yelled. She’d been going for his chest, but she’d missed. He backed away from her, his gun pointed at her. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, keeping his voice at a raspy whisper.

Jenna crouched on the floor, still holding her pistol on him. They were at a stalemate. “What do you want?”

He laughed. “Just wanted to show you I can get to you anytime I want.”

Earsplitting pounding came from the front door. She jerked her head toward the door. As soon as she did, he backed out of her room and ran down the hall.

She scrambled up, but by the time she reached her door, the hallway was empty.

The back door slammed. She ran to the kitchen, and pain shot through her foot when she sprawled over the ottoman that hadn’t been there when she went to bed.

“Jenna! Let me in!”

Max. She glanced at the closed back door. There was no way she could catch her attacker now. “I’m coming!” she yelled and picked herself up and grabbed her keys before she limped to the front door.

Jenna unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Max burst in, his gun drawn.

“I heard a gunshot.”

“Someone broke in—he ran out the back door!” She tossed him her keys. “You’ll need the key to get out.”

Max took off running to the kitchen, and Jenna hobbled behind him. Nothing made sense. She followed him out the door to her patio and peered into the darkness beyond the house. “Max?”

He didn’t answer. She used the light on her phone to sweep across the yard and caught a shadowy image coming from the woods. “Max?” she called again.

“It’s me. I didn’t find anyone,” he called back. When Max reached her, he took her in his arms and held her tight. “Are you all right?”

Max asking if she was all right was starting to sound old. “I am. How did you—”

“I never went to the hotel. Not last night or tonight.”

“What?”

“I had a bad feeling about leaving you both nights, so I slept in my truck. There was no place for me to park that you wouldn’t see me, and I had to park on the road.” He stopped to catch his breath. “That’s why I didn’t see him approach your house.”

She gaped at him. He didn’t go to the hotel? No wonder he’d looked tired this morning.

“Can we go in?”

“Oh, of course!” What was wrong with her? Like she had to even ask—someone just broke into her house. And she was still processing that Max had slept in his truck to watch over her. That made her want to cry.

“Are you shot? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Jenna shook her head, unable to say anything without breaking down. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m fine. Whoever broke in may not be, though.”

“You’re the one who fired?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure I hit him.” Her legs turned to water. “Let’s sit down.”

“I want to check the rest of the house first.”

She flipped on the kitchen light and possessed enough presence of mind to photograph the ottoman before she returned it to the living room.

How had the intruder gotten in? She puzzled on that while she waited for Max. She turned around when he entered the kitchen. “Find any blood?”

He gave her an odd look. “No. You must have missed him.”

“I guess the way he yelled made me think I did.” Jenna sank into a kitchen chair while Max examined the lock on the back door.

“This doesn’t make sense.” He turned to her. “The door is deadbolted, and your keys are on this side of the lock. How did he get out?”

She turned and stared at the door. “I don’t know, but I heard this door shut—you should have too.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything but the gunshot.”

“Maybe he went out a window?” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t the case. She had heard the door slam shut.

“I checked, and all of your windows are locked and none are broken.”

A note of doubt rang in his voice. Did he not believe her? “I didn’t make up the intruder.”

“I didn’t say you did, I’m just trying to figure this out.”

“He could’ve picked the lock.”

“Why not just use your keys? They were on the counter. And why would he have gone to the trouble of shutting the door? If I were an intruder, I wouldn’t be thinking about locking the door behind me.”

Quiet filled the kitchen.

“I’m staying here the rest of the night.”

“Why? You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She leveled her gaze at him. “Why do you even want to stay?”

“To have your back.”

That didn’t mean he believed her. She started to protest, but one look at his set expression told her it would be a waste of her breath to argue. And down deep she really didn’t want him to leave. “You can take the guest bedroom or the sofa in the living room.”

“I’ll take the sofa.”

Jenna figured he’d say that.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

She took a deep breath and related every detail she could remember.

“Did you recognize him, or did he say anything?”

She wanted to tell him it was Sebastian, but she hadn’t seen his face and didn’t know for sure. “The bedroom was dark, and he wore a hoodie.”

“How about his voice?”

“He never spoke above a whisper. Said he could get to me anytime he wanted to.”

“That’s all he said?”

She closed her eyes, replaying the scene. “He said something when I shot at him, something like ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’”

“Could it have been Sebastian?”

“I—” There was no way to be sure, but ... “If it is, he’s bulked up—the man in my room was big.”

Her face warmed under Max’s intense gaze. “Are you sure this wasn’t a nightmare?”

She jerked back. “I knew you didn’t believe me.”

“I believe that you believe someone was here, but I haven’t found any evidence of an intruder. There’s no blood on the floor, and none of your windows look like they’ve been tampered with, and both doors are deadbolted and require a key to lock or unlock.”

Jenna stared down at her hands. Everything he said was true. Was she losing it? Was the man in the window yesterday a shadow and the man in her bedroom a bad dream?

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had nightmares she thought were real.