Page 41 of Max Bannon

My throat went dry. My heart pounded so loud I was sure whoever was outside could hear it.

Max’s voice was in my ear, low and steady. “Talk to me, Tess. Tell me exactly where you are.”

I crouched behind the dresser in the bedroom, clutching the bat in one hand, the phone in the other. “Back corner of the room. Closet to my left. Window locked. I can hear someone on the porch. Goose is going insane.”

“You’re doing great. Don’t move. Just stay hidden. The sheriff’s on the way. Less than five minutes out.”

“Five minutes feels like forever,” I whispered, barely able to breathe.

“I know, baby. I’m right here. Keep your eyes on that window and listen for me.”

Another knock at the door—louder this time.

Then a rattle. The door handle twisted.

Goose threw himself at it again with a snarl.

“Max,” I breathed, “they’re trying to get in.”

“Stay quiet. Stay still. Goose is buying you time. If they come inside, you do not run. You swing that bat like your life depends on it. Because it does.”

I tightened my grip until my knuckles ached.

“I wish you were here,” I choked out.

“Me too,” he said. “You have no idea how much. But I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Not while I’m breathing.”

There was a loud crack—wood splintering.

They were trying to force the door.

My body tensed, muscles locked, eyes fixed on the bedroom door, waiting for footsteps—waiting for them to come crashing through.

And then—sirens.

Close.

The shadow disappeared.

Goose stopped barking for half a second, then growled again, racing to the window.

“Tessa?” Max’s voice was urgent. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

I stood slowly, knees shaking. “They’re running. I saw someone cut through the trees toward the creek.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Through the window, I saw red and blue lights flash across the trees, tires crunching down the gravel road, and the sheriff’s truck skidding to a stop.

I dropped the bat and sat on the floor, shaking.

“They’re here,” I said. “They’re here.”

Max let out a breath on the other end of the line—one I didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“You’re okay now. I’m so damn proud of you, Tessa. You did everything right.”

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