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Because right there, standing between the kitchen and the living room, was a dark shadow in the shape of a man.
Fuck.
This could not be happening.
I felt like I stood there in stunned inactivity for hours, but it was likely only a few seconds before I was turning and rushing back into my living room.
My first instinct had been to go upstairs, but there was no escape from a second floor, so I figured I could put my couch between myself and him, then make a mad dash either for the front or back doors.
As soon as I was moving, so was the shadowed man, coming around the couch as my heart hammered against my ribcage, as fear snaked its way up my spine and around my throat, feeling like it was cutting off my air.
My hand shot out, grabbing the first thing I could find, a mug of cold coffee I’d been too lazy to bring back to the kitchen earlier.
I aimed and hurled, feeling a surge of satisfaction as it hit its mark, making the man grunt, and distracting him long enough to rush down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Barefoot.
Forgetting about the glass.
Shards sliced into my feet, making me suck my breath in at the unexpected pain.
Footsteps clomped toward me, heavy and angry at being hit.
The panic swelled again before my brain finally reminded me of something.
I might have lived alone.
But I had a big, scary ex-con next door.
I sucked in a breath and screamed for him even as I started grabbing random things off of my kitchen counters, and hurling them.
The crock full of cooking utensils my sister had given me as a housewarming present, even though she knew I didn’t cook. Another coffee cup. The glass canister I kept the sugar for my coffee in.
The man roared even as I heard Perish’s back door slam shut.
Hearing it too, my attacker turned and ran toward the front door.
“Glass!” I yelled just in time to stop Perish from rushing over it like I had. “He went out front,” I added, hand pressed to my heart as I tried to take a few deep breaths, tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, turning and rushing back out the door, likely rushing around the house, trying to track down the guy.
Alone, I flicked on the light, then pulled myself up on the kitchen counter, pulling one of my legs across my other one, so I could look at the cuts.
Seeing the shards of glass sticking out of my skin had me reacting on impulse, grabbing the pieces, and yanking them out, then tossing them into the sink.
I was repeating the process on the other foot when I heard the front door open again.
“It’s me,” Perish called before moving back toward me. “He disappeared,” he said as he came into the doorway. “Fuck,” he said, looking at me.
“It’s okay,” I said as I plucked a particularly big piece of glass out, trying to ignore the sting of pain. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Calling Finn,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Not the police?” I asked, brows pinching.
“They done shit about the other attack?” he asked.
That was… fair.
I hadn’t even heard from them again after that, even though there was apparently another carjacking in the area.
I sat listening to him talk for a minute before climbing down off of the counter, and tiptoeing around the glass all around, and making my way down to the bathroom to grab my small medical kit, bringing it with me to the living room.
I flicked on the light, then poured antiseptic over my feet, letting out a string of curses that had Perish chuckling as he followed me into the living room.
“What are you doing?” I asked when I suddenly felt a blanket being draped around my shoulders.
“Dunno. That’s what people do on TV when someone’s had a shock,” he said, looking a little bashful at that. Which, yeah, was kind of charming on a big guy like him.
“Ah, thanks,” I said, pulling it more tightly around me. Not because I was in shock, but because I’d just realized I was in panties and a tank top, and nothing else.
“You okay?” he asked. “Want me to look?”
“I think I got them all out,” I said, though it was hard to tell when the soles of my feet were throbbing like they each had their own heartbeats. “Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Said I would,” he said, shrugging.
“Yeah, but still. I might hate having to rely on anyone to save me, but…”
“Seems like you were doing a pretty good job yourself,” Perish said. “There was blood down the steps and path.”
“I think I hit his nose with a glass container,” I admitted.
“Good for you. The fuck had it coming,” he said.
