Page 15 of Reaping Havoc
Gage blinked. “Mama, puh-lease.”
“Just one more.” I remained firm despite those adorable faces hungry for more adventure.
Somewhere on page fifteen ofHow I Became a Pirate, the boys fell asleep. I covered them both with their matching blankets and left the room, closing the door with a soft click so I wouldn’t wake them as I cleaned up the house. I planned to finish off the mess in the kitchen, followed by the clutter in the living room.
It wasn’t as easy as it used to be with my pregnancy in the ninth month. I had only weeks left until we met the little girl growing inside my womb, and I couldn’t wait until the moment when I held her in my arms.
Rael loved being a father to the twins, but I had a feeling he’d be ecstatic with a daughter. Not to mention overprotective, too. Okay, probably obsessive, crazy, and hovering. But he’d love her more than any man I’d ever known. Rael never did anything half-assed. He was all in, one of the most endearing and my favorite characteristics of my possessive biker.
I picked up a discarded pillow and fluffed it, placing it on the living room couch when I heard a slight noise outside. A creak of floorboards on the front porch. Odd.
Rael was at the clubhouse because Grim had called church. He’d been a bit apprehensive about leaving me today, and Iwondered if he was feeling anxious about the baby. My doctor assured us that everything was fine and that our little girl was healthy. He needed to relax.
My head lifted as I faced the large set of windows, expecting to find empty patio furniture and the swing. Plants. Maybe a discarded coffee mug from Rael. But my heart nearly stuttered when I saw someone there.
I wasn’t alone.
A man stood on the other side of the glass, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. His eyes were so dark they appeared black in the early afternoon shadows. The freakiest part? He wore the same skeletal, black and white, Day of the Dead themed makeup Rael wore most days since we met.
This wasn’t Rael.
I swallowed hard, my gaze shifting slightly as I glanced at the front door and noticed the lock. Shit!
In this neighborhood, consisting of so many members of the Graven Bastards MC, Rael’s biker club, I never thought to flip the lock after he left. He never bothered with it either, too distracted by his brother and their water balloon battle. No one ever messed with us. They wouldn’t dare.
Until now.
My attention focused on the stranger as a dark laugh tumbled from his mouth, etched with macabre teeth over black painted lips. Oh. My. God.
I didn’t hesitate to react. As quickly as possible, I ran to the door. Just as I saw the knob begin to turn, I flipped the lock. My chest heaved as I heard it rattle, no longer able to open.
But this wasn’t the only door on the first floor of our house.
As that knowledge sank in, I dashed away from the front entrance and through the living room, entering the kitchen. I checked the lock that led out to the garage. No worries there.
It was the sliding glass doors leading out to the deck that worried me. The boys had played outside earlier, digging trenches for their army men and plastic animals, using spoons from my new flatware set. I couldn’t care less if they damaged any utensils, far too concerned with the devilish grin facing me as the stranger began slowly ascending the deck stairs.
We both could see the door slightly ajar. I never noticed as I made lunch, focusing on the kids and our routine. What a costly mistake!
Terror seized me with such a fierce grip that I trembled, knowing I would never make it to the door before this stranger did. My babies were asleep in a room twenty feet from where I stood. Their safety trumped my own.
No one would enter my house uninvited.
I sprinted toward the door as he stopped just three steps from the glass. My hand shook as I shoved it closed and flipped the lock in place. He could have come inside. If this stranger wanted, he could have shoved his way in, knocked me backward, and done whatever he wanted.
My hand pressed against my stomach and the innocent life growing inside. Sucking air into my lungs, I gulped loudly as I reached into the pocket of my maternity top and yanked out my phone. I needed Rael. Now.
The line rang twice before I heard his voice. “My kitten. You need anything?”
“Rael.” My voice sounded strange to my ears. Flat. Lifeless. Frightened.
“Are you okay?” An edge of worry tinged his deep, gritty timbre.
“No.”
I could hear the moment he realized danger lurked too close for comfort. There was a subtle shift I picked up on only becauseI knew him so well. A slight intake of breath. The beginning rumble of a growl.
My biker wasn’t schizophrenic, but he did have three distinct personas, and they all shared space inside his body. The Reaper. My biker. His Berserker.
