Page 21 of Claimed by the Fallen
“It’s you,” the intruder says with a hint of awe. His voice snaps me out of mystupor.
I scream and yank the bat away. The man lets go, and the aluminum smacks into the tile beside my head. I hear the delicate materialcrack.
On the other side of the shower, Peri begins to bark. Only, she isn’t barking at the man. She’s barking atme!
Traitor.
I stop screaming, but I swing the bat in front of me like I’m watering the backyard. “Stayback!”
The man rears back to avoid being hit. He holds his hands up by his shoulders. I see he’s dressed casually in a pair of blue jeans and a sports t-shirt. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurtyou.”
Does he expect me to believehim?
“What are you doing in my house?” I shout, continuing to swing my meager weapon to keep distance between us. My arms grow tired, and I curse my illness for leaving me weaker thannormal.
“I’m here to helpyou.”
“By breaking into my house?” I put more effort behind myswings.
“Yes. No…” He shakes his head, and a few loose strands sway with the movement. “It’s not what it looks like. I promise, I’m here to help you. I know you’resick.”
I don’t even bother to try and figure out how he knows that. “I’ve called the police. They’re on theway.”
The intruder doesn’t react. I don’t think he believes me. “I swear, Veronica. I only want tohelp—"
“I don’t want your help. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” I shriek, my adrenaline and fear making me lose it. This creep knows my name, and I know that isn’t a good thing. It would mark him as a stalker in an episode of my favorite televisiondrama.
Suddenly, Peri switches to my side. She bites the man’s calf. He stumbles back, releasing a string of expletives. I use the opportunity to jump out of the shower and shove him out of the bathroom so I can escape. He grabs onto the bat and pulls. I release the handle and continue running into thehallway.
My feet fly down the stairs, and I run my hand along the railing to keep balance. I jump over the last two steps and land on the first-floorhard.
Pain shoots up my ankles, but I don’t dare stop. I can only hope Peri distracted the intruder long enough to give me time to escape and get help. I can only hope nothing happens to my dog in themeantime.
I make a break for the front door. I’m reaching for the handle when a body blocks myway.
CRAP!
I’d forgotten there was another intruder. I don’t waste a second. My gaze zeros in on his chest, marking my biggest target. I center my weight and release a sweeping kick with my right leg. The man sidesteps out of the way easily. I blame my weakened state. Normally, the surprise attack would have laid out my kickboxing instructor. After four years, I’ve moved up to the advancedclasses.
Determined to make it outside, I throw a quick right punch. When it’s deflected, I quickly jab with my left. I hear a satisfying, “oomph” when my knuckles makecontact.
I don’t let up. I’m kicking and swinging in rapid succession. Iwillmake itoutside.
But I’m unsuccessful in landing another blow. The intruder blocks every move. He’s fast, and I get the impression he is trained in martial arts too. Though, all of his moves are defensive. He doesn’t try to strike meonce.
My breathing is heavy. I’m lightheaded, but I refuse to give up. I’m so focused on the fight, I don’t hear that the intruder is speaking. Not until I hear him say, “Relax, Messenger. Standdown!”
I stagger back, sure to keep my arms raised to defend myself. My eyes rise from the intruder’s torso, and they nearly pop out of my head as I identify the man standing before me. His beige slacks and form-fitting button down are more familiar than they shouldbe.
“Mr.Cohen?”
* * *
Igape,dumbfounded, at my physics teacher. “Mr. Cohen?” I repeat, and my arms fall to my side. “What are you doing in myhouse?”
Hearing my recognition, Mr. Cohen drops his defensive stance. He straightens his spine and pulls down on his long-sleeved button up. “I’m here to check on you. You weren’t at church today, and I know you aren’t feelingwell.”
That’s the first time I’ve heard Mr. Cohen attends my family’s non-denominational church. If he were any other teacher, the information wouldn’t surprise me. Valley Lake is small, and many of my teachers attend the same church. But there is no way I would’ve missed seeing Mr. Cohen on aSunday.
