Page 50 of Silent Threat
And, if hewasthe same idiot, he’d already proven that he didn’t care if her animals got hurt. The llamas and the donkey could have been easily hit in the road. Annie wasn’t going to leave the kits to him.
She pulled into the back of the closet, put the basket down, and eased the door closed as far as she could without making it click into place.
She muted her phone, then dialed 911. And when she didn’t speak after Leila picked up, the dispatcher said, “Are you all right, Annie?”
Because, thank God, Annie had her cell phone number registered in the local 911 database, so they had her address even when not calling from a landline. The PD began providing that service once half the town gave up their landlines in favor of their cell phones.
“If you can’t speak, press one.”
Annie did.
“If you can’t speak because you’re hurt, press one. If you can’t speak because there’s an intruder in your home, press two.”
Annie pressed two.
“Sending a car right now. You hang in there, Annie honey, all right? Stay on the line. Harper’s on duty. He’s near you, and he’s heading right over. He’ll be there in five minutes.”
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
Oh God.
Her bedroom door was opening. The next second, shoes scraped on the wood floor. Annie’s chest was so tight, she couldn’t breathe.
No matter how much Harper hurried, he wasn’t going to reach her in time.
The intruder was only a handful of steps away from her. She thought about the one good self-defense move she knew, but then, through the crack in the door, she caught something black and metallic in the man’s hand.
A gun?
Sooo not good.
All she had was a basket of skunk babies.
Chapter Eleven
THE CHOPPER’S TAILexploded in midair.
“Brace for impact!” the pilot shouted.
But bracing made no difference when they hit. Cole felt as if not just the chopper, but his whole body, had exploded, as if his bones had left him, flying out through his skin.
Most of the men had been thrown free.
There was no help for the three who hadn’t been.
Fire. Smoke. Pain.
Yet no one rushed to scramble away. Everyone was looking to see who needed help. When the survivors finally pulled back, they did it in pairs, the men with lesser injuries carrying those who couldn’t move under their own power.
Derek’s pant leg was on fire. He had Alex on his back in a fireman’s hold. Alex was bleeding so hard, his blood was soaking Derek’s leg and putting out the flames.
Cole’s right shoulder felt dislocated. He had shrapnel stuck between his ribs and incredible pressure in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. If metal had punctured his lungs, he had only minutes left. He was determined to use those minutes to drag Matt to safety.
He tripped. Went down, white-hot pain exploding behind his eyelids. Matt screamed.
Cole bolted upright in bed before he was fully awake, drenched in sweat. He was gulping for air, his chest tight.
He rubbed his hand against the pain in the middle of his chest, swore, and hauled himself out of bed. He needed a shower.
