style="font-size:15px;"> She glanced around the room at the charming knickknacks, antique furniture and lace curtains framing the windows. It was still dark outside so what had awakened her? Was it the anxiety humming through her body from everything that had happened? She seemed to be safe. The detective had said he’d protect her.
Nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m close, and I’m not going anywhere....
“Detective?” she called out, although her voice didn’t carry far. She climbed out of bed, hugging herself against the chill of leaving the down comforter behind, and wandered to an open door adjacent to her room. She flipped on the light. It was a sitting room. Empty.
The rumbling sound of angry voices echoed from the main floor below.
She wouldn’t be afraid this time. The rhythmic pounding of footsteps vibrated against the wooden floorboards.
She thought she heard Alex’s voice, so she cracked open the door.
He marched toward her room wearing an angry frown that looked so unlike him.
“Donovan!” A tall, broad-shouldered man bounded up the stairs and charged Alex from behind.
He grabbed Alex’s arm, spun him around and slugged him in the gut.
Alex hit the floor, gasping for breath.
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