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Retrieving his phone, he started to type out a response when he suddenly heard a tap at his window that startled the hell out of him. He reared back, then saw a face on the other side of the glass. Ball cap, sunglasses, baggy T-shirt plastered to a slight frame. No distinguishing features or tattoos. At first glance, it looked like a teenage boy. But the face had a softness… Smooth, fair skin, gracefully arched brows, a delicately sloped jaw, and huge eyes.
Why the fuck would this kid be out in the pouring rain after ten o’clock at night? Hell, why would he avoid the covered porch, choosing to tap on the window instead of knocking on the front door?
No kid would…unless there was trouble.
Matt unlocked the window and raised it a fraction, aware of his gun a mere split second from his grasp.
“Yeah?”
“Matt?”
That trembling voice. Not a boy at all. Definitely a woman.
One he knew.
No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be… But a second glance had him reconsidering his assessment.
Holy shit.
His heart crashed inside his chest. “Madison?”
She gave him a shaky nod, then looked behind her as if she expected the bogeyman to jump her. “I’m sorry to barge in—”
“You’re not.” He threw the window wide open, cursing the screen between them. If she was here, hiding in his bushes and disguising herself to approach his house late at night in the rain, something was terribly wrong. “What’s going on?”
“I-I need help, and I didn’t know anyone else I could trust.” She swallowed, and he saw the abject terror on her face. “My husband is trying to kill me.”
She meant that figuratively, right? Like he was pissed off and struggling to keep his mouth in check?
If they were merely having a spat, why would a woman who hasn’t spoken to you in three years be at your window hours after nightfall, looking terrified?
So her husband was literally trying to off her. Every muscle in Matt’s body tensed as he scanned the dark street around her. It looked empty, but he didn’t like it. “I’m going to kill the porch light. Once I do, shimmy through the bushes, close to the door.”
She gave him a shaky nod, and he backed away from the window, loath to take his stare off of her. But her safety was way more important than his anxiety.
Cursing, Matt wrenched his phone from his pocket, launched the app that controlled the house lights, then darkened the porch and front rooms. He yanked open the door and found Madison in shadow, tucked between the bushes and his house. Despite the July heat, she trembled like a leaf. A wretched relief that she hadn’t slipped through his fingers again filled him.
When he stepped onto the porch, warm rain pelted his back as he pretended to retrieve his mail from the box affixed to the house. “Slip in front of me.”
She did, looking up at him with scared blue eyes. Despite the time, distance, and betrayal, she still captivated him. One glance, and his whole body pinged, lighting up in a way he hadn’t felt since he’d last touched her.
“Get inside.” He nudged Madison into the house, then locked the door behind him and armed his security system before facing her. How fucking surreal that, after nearly three years of total silence between them, she stood in his entryway looking at him like he was her savior. “Did you see anyone follow you?”
“No. But I’m still worried.”
Obviously. Madison was pale and twitchy, her eyes dilated, her body tense. Her survival instinct had kicked in, flooding her with a fuck-ton of adrenaline.
“And I-I know this is unexpected,” she whispered. “You’re probably shocked I’m here.”
A huge understatement, but first things first. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.” Matt eyed the wide straps of her backpack with their dangling charms weighing down her slender shoulders. When he reached out to take the heavy load from her, she did the one thing guaranteed to make him back away.
She flinched.
Slowly, he drew his hands back. “I just wanted to take your backpack before you fall over.”
