Page 45 of Heat Lightning

So far, no one came running from the main house, and I didn’t see any kind of commotion through the windows. Maybe they hadn’t heard anything after all.

Rounding the house, I was relieved the Masked Man had at least risen to his knees.

“Are you okay?” I asked again, keeping my voice lowered.

“Fine,” he wheezed. “Knocked the air out of me, that’s all.”

A dog barked in the distance. “C’mon,” I said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him up. “Inside, before someone sees you.”

He stumbled up and followed me to the stairs. “You gonna use that on me?” he asked, gesturing to the knife.

I rolled my eyes. “Go on. Up,” I said, ushering him forward when he halted.

“I gathered that,” he snapped back. I didn’t appreciate his tone. “Let me catch my breath.”

Ugh. “You’re acting like you fell out of a window or something.”

He coughed a surprised laugh, darting a questioning glance my way before heading upstairs.

“What?” I asked once the door was safely closed behind me.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just surprised you’re joking with me and not stabbing me. You’ve got the mask on and everything.”

“Who says I won’t? What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“The wall, remember? Plus you weren’t answering my texts.”

I opened my mouth to ask if he broke into the homes of everyone who took a few hours to respond, but just then a car door slammed, and footsteps clacked down the brick path, headed our way. I froze.

All levity gone, the Masked Man spun around, facing the door. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, just as they made it to the stairs. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

Before I could blink, the knife was out of my hand and back in his. “Get behind me,” he said, reaching back to shove me between him and the kitchen counter.

I should’ve been more focused on how easy it was for him to disarm me, and how the knife had clearly been an illusion of control this entire time, but all I could really think about was how warm his hand was on my waist, and how broad his shoulders were, blocking me from the door.

My omega purred. His protection was a heady thing.

The sound of keys jingling on a ring made my stomach drop. Was it Mr. Marino? Or Gwen? Surely, an intruder wouldn’t have a key? Who else⁠—

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered. “The cleaner!” I’d completely forgotten I told her I’d be out today, and she could use her key to get in. “It’s just Donna. Don’t hurt her!”

Panicked and with nowhere else to go, I did the only thing I could think of and yanked open the pantry door, pulling the Masked Man in with me.

I could’ve just shoved him in there, but I was a terrible liar, and the poor woman would know right away something was wrong, report it to Mr. Marino, who’d report it to Gwen, and then I’d have more questions to answer for.

So. The pantry it was.

He came easily, though, crowding me inside the small space and silently closing the bi-fold louver door behind us just as the cleaner stepped into the room.

Jeffrey hissed.

“It’s okay, big kitty,” she said, voice high like she was approaching a velociraptor, rather than a cat. “We do this every week, remember? I’m just going to vacuum in here. Go on and hide.”

He hissed again, but she sighed in relief, followed by something that could’ve been a mumbled “Thank God,” so he must’ve done as she’d asked.

The Masked Man caught my eye and tilted his head as if to say, “See?”