Page 122 of Knot for Me
“They were amazing.” I stop pacing and nod to myself. “Okay. You’re right. I have to stop being afraid.”
“It’s hard, but I have faith in you. You’re so strong.”
I grin, eyes misting a little. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Anything for you. I hate to cut the call, but Philip is bugging me for breakfast.”
“Go, do your thing. I’m going to eat too.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too,” I say and disconnect the call.
Mind settled and my heart feeling a little lighter, I leave my room in search of breakfast. When I get to the first floor, I head to the kitchen but stop short. Frank is missing. That’s odd. He’s usually here. Maybe the guys gave him a day off? Lord knows the man needs one. I don’t know when he sleeps or sees his girlfriend. He’s probably in the bathroom. I can’t fault the guy for doing what nature asks.
There’s only one muffin on the counter, placed on a small plate with a cup of oat milk ready at its side. I smile at how thoughtful and precise Cory is. He knows how I like my food, and I adore that about him. I take the first bite, humming when I taste orange and cranberry. So good.
Something crashes in the hallway, glass shattering.
“Frank?” I ask, setting the mostly uneaten muffin down. “Are you okay?”
I wait by the island. Silence. My gut is screaming at me that that wasn’t Frank. But if it wasn’t him and the guys are gone, who would be sneaking around?
“Amelie? This isn’t funny,” I say, fear pricking at my spine when she doesn’t cackle or jump out and shoutsurprise.
The creepy guy from the calls and emails? He’d told me my time was running out. Did he finally come to fulfill his threats?
Tip-toeing to the butcher block on the counter that holds the knives, I grab the biggest one and hold it at my side, backing toward the dining room table. My phone is upstairs so I can’t call for help, but if I can get to the door and trigger the alarm, Cory will get a notification.
The house is eerily quiet. I hold my breath and side step, accidentally bumping into a chair because I’m too focused on staring at the doorway. The wooden legs groan and creak over the tile. Making a split-second decision, I dash for the door. The intruder must have had the same idea. As soon as I get into the hallway, I hear shoes thudding against the tile. I scream. I don’t look back. My heart thuds. Blood rushes through my ears.
Racing to the door, I hold the knife down and a little away from my side so I don’t stab myself. My fingers brush over the security panel, but strong arms band around my waist and yank me away.
The knife clatters to the floor.
“No,” I yell, rearing my head back. A sickening crunch fills the air, and my attacker howls in pain. I use the moment to my advantage, stomping on his instep and breaking free of his hold when he loosens his grip.
I race for the panel and quickly hit the panic button, whirling around and searching the marble for the knife. I spy it the same time the guy recovers. He’s an alpha, his scent reeks of it. He squints at me, and I gasp at the familiar expression, taking in the slight scruff on his jaw. Shit. It’s the guy from Ascension Security. He was the one who installed the system. I glance at the knife again then back to him. His gaze flicks to the weapon, a smile curling his lips. It’s closer to him.
“Frank. Hit him,” I shout, looking over his shoulder like the guard is really there.
The guy turns around and ducks. I dash for the weapon, thanking the stars he’s an idiot. A smarter intruder would have never fallen for that. I drop to my knees, sliding on the marble and scooping up the knife. The attacker lunges for me, and I crawl back, screaming when he catches my ankle and starts to pull me toward him. I kick with my other foot, but he bats it away.
“Fucker,” I seethe, slashing at him with the knife.
The blade glances over his forearm, and he hisses, growling in annoyance. “Bitch. You’re going to pay for that.”
“Eat shit,” I growl, slashing at him again and slicing him once more.
He drops my ankle and grabs his arm, cussing at me. I don’t stick around to listen. I race up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Tears are streaming down my face but there’s no time to wipe them away. I pant when I reach the top, pulse jumping when I hear him pounding up the stairs too.
“You’re going to die just like that other bitch. Cornelius won’t have any grandchildren.”
“Fuck Cornelius and his crotch goblins,” I shout, hoping he’ll realize we’re on the same team and stop trying to kill me.
He doesn’t. I reach my door but not fast enough. The guy grabs my hair and shoves my head against the wood, making me whimper in pain. I drop the knife again. Black dots dance across my vision. I still have enough sense to reach back and scratch the shit out of him, planting one foot and kicking the other up, hitting him right in the family jewels.
Hallelujah for balls.
