Page 6 of Falcon

My day.

It’s the perfect day to recharge before the week starts over on Monday.

I tuck my hairbrush back the drawer, after using it as a microphone, of course, then apply some rosewater toner to my face with a cotton pad. After a beat to let that dry, I smear some of my favorite moisturizer onto my face, then the need for tea comes calling.

Still dressed in a towel, still horribly singing along to the music, I pad down the hallway toward the front of my house and my kitchen, but I freeze in my tracks.

A shadow on the shades, I still have pulled, gives away that someone, a very large someone, is on my front porch, trying to peek through the windows.

What the fuck?

I look to my right, then my left, before grabbing the wooden baseball bat I keep leaning against the side table in my entryway. Call it a precaution. You can never be too careful. I do live alone, after all.

I stand completely still. I know he can’t see me. Not with the type of shades I have, but I can see him. His silhouette is large, looming even. He cups his hands over his eyes and leans in, trying to see before ringing the doorbell.

I don’t make a peep. Maybe he’ll just give up and go away.

That thought is instantly dashed when I notice he leans against the window and pulls what I think is a cell phone from his pocket.

I take a deep breath. Maybe he needs help? It’s a possibility, and I can’t in good conscious just leave him out there until I at least know what he wants. Can I?

No. I can’t. Not everyone has a motive, Faith. Relax.

I tiptoe across the hardwood, clutching the bat in one hand, and using the other to slowly and near silently turn the two deadbolts I have latched.

I lower the bat out of the way so he won’t see it if he looks inside and pull the door open, but I leave the chain lock intact so it only opens a few inches.

“Can I help you?”

He turns toward my voice and his brows rise in surprise.

“Oh, sorry, I…I clearly have the wrong house. I’m looking for my sister.”

“You’re looking for her in my house?” I sweep my eyes from his shoes to his head. He’s so…intimidating. Very tall and very muscular, but really, he looks exhausted.

“Well, obviously I didn’t know it was your house. I don’t make a habit of peeking into stranger’s homes.” He doesn’t take a step closer. He stays put, exactly where he has been. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s being respectful or if I’m making him nervous.

“I would hope not. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Her name is Nora Masen. This is the address she gave me, but clearly something is wrong.”

I release a long breath, relieved. “You’re Nora’s brother?”

“You know her?”

“Well, yeah. She’s my neighbor. That,” I nod to the house next door, “is where she lives.”

He turns to look at the house and then shakes his head. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“GPS tends to mess things up a little. We share a driveway, kind of, so it’s a little confusing.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. You can unlock the chain, you know? Forcing your face through that little area like Jack from The Shining can’t be comfortable.”

I hesitate, of course, who wouldn’t, but I look at him closely for a moment. He’s a large man, yes, but he has kind eyes. Eyes say a lot about a person. Eyes don’t lie.

I close the door and slide the chain to the right before pulling it completely open and stepping fully into view, bat in hand.

“Were you going to beat me to death?”

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