“Nothing.” Max sounds annoyed. “The fucker must have taken off when they saw the car.”
Ronan curses. “Fucker is right.”
Footsteps come closer.
The floorboard in the upstairs hallway creaks.
A desperate hope sparks.
Is it really over?
I’m torn between racing out of the cubby and staying put.
If Ronan’s upstairs, and what he and Max say is true, then the threat is gone. I’m safe. Unless… What if someone is still up here, hiding? What if they’re lurking in a corner, behind the shower curtain, under a bed, and they have agun?—
What if they hurt Ronan?
I know he’s trained. But that doesn’t mean he’s invincible.
Fear surges; not for me, but for him. My already-racing heart speeds until I’m lightheaded from it.
“Angel!” Ronan’s voice draws closer. It’s rough. Urgent. “Angel! Are you okay?”
On my first try, all that comes out is a dry click.
“Angel!” The footsteps come faster. Louder. The loose floorboard at the entrance to Haley’s room groans. Seconds later, the closet door opens.
I swallow to wet my throat. “Ronan.” I’m shocked at how shaky my voice is. “Is it safe?”
“It’s safe,” he replies. Clothes hangers rattle on the rack as he makes his way into the closet. “We cleared the whole house.”
Despite Ronan’s reassurance, it’s hard to get rid of the mental image of a dark-clothed man sneaking up on Ronan and shooting him. “Are you sure?”
His voice softens. “I’m sure.”
As I hear Ronan pushing his way past Haley’s clothes, it occurs to me that I should have come out of the closet instead of just sitting here, waiting. But when I try to move, my locked-up muscles refuse. Even though my brain is coming to accept that I’m safe, my body hasn’t caught up yet.
The little door to the cubby wiggles. Then, with a sudden jerk, it pops open.
My nerves are strung so tight, I yelp at the movement. Instinctively, I recoil, smacking the back of my head on the wall.
“Angel.” Ronan’s face appears in the open doorway. His features are a contrast of light and dark from the flashlight he’s holding. “Shit. Are you hurt?”
He angles the flashlight so the beam starts at my feet, then slides upward. It’s startlingly bright after the near-complete dark of the cubby, so I squint and avert my eyes.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I just need—are you hurt anywhere? I heard you cry out. Did they hurt you?”
Now that I can actually see him, my muscles unlock. Relieved tears spring to my eyes. “Ronan. I’m—” My voice cracks. “I’m?—”
Ronan sets the flashlight on the floor and starts crawling into the cubby. “It’s okay,” he croons. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
From outside the closet, Max asks, “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” Ronan replies. “It’s too damn dark to tell for sure. I need to get her out of the closet. It’s just so damn tight in here?—”
As I watch Ronan try to climb into a space barely big enough for me, I force my protesting body into action. “I can get out,” I say. “It’s… it’s alright. I can do it.”
He freezes halfway through the doorway. “I can help you.”