No Perfect Hero(14)

Then Tara screams.

High, shrill, scary.

My blood instantly chills to ice water as I jerk my head up, racing to grab her, to protect her.

But then I stop, my brows knit together, as I finally see what frightened her.

“What in the world?” It just falls off my lips, suddenly as numb as the rest of me.

And the first cold fingers of real, dense fear prick my skin. I can't stop staring at the mess smeared over my front door.

Blood.

Stark, fresh blood, dripping crimson, outlining letters written in a hasty, angry hand.



LEAVE NOW OF YOUR OWN ACCORD

BEFORE YOU CAN’T LEAVE AT ALL

THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING





I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a panicked scream trying to claw its way up from my lungs.

Stuck in the blood are soft, curling brown feathers, giving me a terrible idea of exactly where the blood came from. The kind of person who'd do this to an innocent animal just to send a message.

They’re getting their meaning across, loud and clear.

And if they'd do this to a bird on a whim...

What would they do to a woman and a little girl?

“Tara, get back in the car,” I gasp, reaching out blindly for her hand, backing down the steps, pulling my petrified, sniffling niece with me. “Get in the car, baby, and we’ll leave. We'll get settled and call the police from somewhere sa—”

“No need to call the police.” A voice like thunder rises behind me, all grim growl.

I freeze, my knees locking up, my breaths seizing up at the sound of Warren coming closer.

The first thing flashing through my head is holy shit, he’s the one who wants me gone!

I can’t breathe. I can't think. I can't decide.

My legs are stiff like cement as I turn slowly, instinctively pushing my niece behind me so I can shield her. I remember Warren’s truck is parked behind my Mustang, bumper to bumper – blocking us in – and he stares over my head with hard eyes, looking past me at the cabin.

Suddenly, I’m far too aware how large he is, intimidating and massive and powerful. This deadly bulwark of a man who looks like he’s made to be a human wall.

I'm just not sure if he's designed to protect or hurt.

It’s too easy for people like him to turn their strength into something worse. And if he's lost his mind, if he's gone completely crazy...

But he brushes past me without a second glance, his face set in dark, brooding lines as he rakes the door over with a glance.

“This wasn’t meant for you,” he says softly. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

I glance at Tara first. Her little eyes are wide and wet, and she’s trembling.

I'm not scared anymore when I see my baby girl scared. I'm pissed.

“Go, kit,” I whisper, giving her shoulder a soft stroke, then a gentle push. “In the car. I'll be right behind you.”

And I will. But first, a few words with Mr. W.T.F.

Tara turns and scrambles away, safely out of reach. I watch her climb in the back seat of the Mustang, before ducking down out of sight like a scared puppy finding a hidey-hole.

Good girl. If this gets uglier than I think and we have to run, she’ll be ready to go.

I take a few more steps back, putting a little more distance between myself and the cabin – and Warren. I'm tense, ready...but even if I’m scared, with every second that passes, I'm angrier.

I want answers. Now.

“How can I be safe if someone’s writing messages on my door?” I bite off. “What do you mean, it wasn’t meant for me?”

He’s focused, silent, assessing the message scrawled on the door with penetrating eyes. He reminds me of a cop, all of a sudden. Solemn and intense, dissecting a crime scene for clues.

The idea shouldn’t make me feel better, a little less ready to bolt. For all I know, he's the reason we just stepped into some seriously bad juju.

But I just can’t feel any menace vibrating off him.

And I want to trust my intuition. But then, my intuition got me engaged to Eddy.

Still, I relax a little as he glances at me.

His gaze flicks over me, softening, brilliant blue eyes darkening with concern, cutting through me faster than any steely glance. “Whoever did this made the same mistake you did. Asshole didn't know which side of the place was mine. You hurt?” There's a fierceness in his voice when he says those last two words.

Something dark. Something sweet. Something territorial.

“I...no. I just...I’m fine.” I’m thrown off, stammering at yet another reason to be shaken.

Did this jerk just crawl out of his cave long enough to be worried about me?

“You sure?” he rumbles again, eyeing me up and down, assessing.

“Still in one piece.” I nod more firmly this time.

“Good.” He nods back, decisively, then fixes his burning blue gaze back on the door. “This was left by someone who knows me. It’s a coded message. Sua sponte. ‘Of their own accord.’” His mouth creases into a hard line. “It’s the motto of the Army Rangers. They’re saying they’re onto me.”

“You’re a Ranger?”

“Former.” He sinks down in a crouch with his thighs bunching hard and taut against his jeans, narrowing his eyes at a clump of bloodied, matted feathers on the mat.