Page 86 of Hash

I bolt up in bed wide awake at the sound of glass shattering.

It’s still dark out. I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s only three a.m. before the panic starts to set in.

Someone is breaking into my house.

“Oh my God.” I gasp, as I frantically look around my room, frozen from the adrenaline of what to do next.

More glass shatters. I hear it crashing against the floor.

“Cormac.”

I snatch my phone off my nightstand and sprint down to the end of the hallway to Cormac’s room. My palms slap against the door, stopping my momentum. I look over my shoulder at the sound of a heavy boot hitting the floor.

They’re inside.

My heart is racing so fast it feels like it’s going to fly out of my chest.

With shaky hands, I quickly open it and slip inside, locking the door.

Cormac is still sleeping peacefully in his crib.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I whisper to myself as I try to figure out what the fuck to do. “Think, Aisling. Fucking think.” I slap my hand against my forehead. “Goddamnit!”

Holy shit, Hash!

Finding Hash’s contact, I hit call.

“Please pick up,” I say as I look up at the ceiling, listening to it ring and ring. I have no idea what he’s doing tonight. For all I know, club business means they’re all drunk off their asses right now. “Come on, come on.”

“Baby doll?” Hash’s deep voice sounds through the phone.

“Someone’s in my house,” I hiss into the phone in a whisper.

“What?” Hash asks, his tone alert. “Where are you?”

“I ran into Cormac’s room when I heard glass shattering.” My eyes slide to check on my sweet baby boy, who is dead to the world and has no idea what’s going on. “I’m really scared, Hash,” I tell him in a hushed whisper, unable to keep the tremble out of my voice.

“I’m on my way.” I can hear Hash putting his jeans on and opening his bedroom door. “Lock the door.”

“I already did.”

“Good girl,” Hash praises. “Hang tight, baby doll. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You’re not going to hang up, are you?” I ask, the fear rising at the thought of not being able to talk to him if something happens.

I hear muffled voices in the background, making me wonder who he’s talking to so late.

“I need to hang up, baby,” Hash tells me gently. “I’m on my bike. I need to get to you as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Okay,” Hash says. “Do you have something with you that you can use in case he gets into the room?”

Shit.

I didn’t even think about that.

I frantically look around Cormac’s room trying to find any sort of sharp object I can find. My eyes lock on a wand I have hung on his wall that I found at a Renaissance Faire Frankie and I went to when I was pregnant. The guy was a blacksmith and forged it himself. The top of the wand had three prongs holding a decent-sized amethyst, and the tip was extremely sharp. I pricked my finger when I was testing to see if it was actually sharp or not.