Glitter and Gunfire/Bulletproof (Shadow Agents 4)

Someone had used the shower. Must be the new handyman Cara Jo had spoken of on their trip to Fort Stockton.

PJ’s stomach clenched, and her fingers tightened around the doorknob. The new guy would have to use the same soap Chuck had, and damned if he didn’t also use the same cologne. As tired as she was, PJ could barely hold it together as the aromas washed over her, bringing back memories best left in the back of her mind.

She had to have a shower and didn’t have another option close enough to her room that the monitor would carry to, so PJ closed the door behind her. Her hands shook as she set the monitor on the sink and turned it up loud enough that she could hear it over the water’s spray.

With quick, efficient movements, she flung off her clothes and stepped beneath the cool spray. She was fast about her showers, concerned about leaving Charlie alone too long.

After a quick shampoo and rinse, she ducked her head around the curtain and listened to the monitor. A reassuring staticky silence was all she heard. As she closed the shower curtain, a differe

nt sound carried over the speaker.

Click.

PJ strained her ears.

Click.

She shut off the water and listened more intently.

Click.

Then a sharp sound, like something falling, echoed through the monitor.

What the hell?

PJ pulled on her pajama bottoms and top, grabbed her key and flung the bathroom door open.

The door to her apartment stood open.

PJ’s heart slammed to a halt and then kicked into high gear. She had been careful to close and lock the door when she’d left. As she stared into her dark apartment, fear rooted her to the floor for only a moment.

Her baby daughter was in that room. Cold dread filled her and she shot forward, ready to take down anyone who threatened to harm...

“Charlie,” she said and launched forward.

When she stepped through the open door, a dark figure wearing a black ski mask grabbed her and flung her inside.

PJ screamed and scurried backward and then turned to run. She made it only one step before a hand latched onto her hair and yanked her backward.

PJ screamed again, her cry cut off by a large gloved hand clamping down over her mouth. She bit into it, her teeth barely making a dent in the thick leather glove.

She kicked and slammed her elbow into his gut, but he wouldn’t release her hair, the pressure on the roots pulling her skin tight over her forehead, pain radiating through her scalp.

All PJ could think about was Charlie. She had to protect her from this madman. Giving up was not an option. She stomped hard on the man’s instep and he yelled, let go of her hair and backhanded her so hard she flew across the room, tripped over the couch and fell against an end table. The lamp on the table teetered. PJ grabbed it and swung it at the man’s head. The ceramic base hit him in the ear and shattered.

He grabbed the electric cord, ripped it from the wall and wrapped it around PJ’s neck, pulling it tight.

PJ’s fingers fumbled for the cord, panic setting in as her vision blurred, her air cut off. No. She couldn’t die. Charlie needed her. She kicked and twisted, managing only to tighten the cord around her throat. It couldn’t end this way. She wouldn’t let it happen.

The man lifted her to her feet and dragged her backward toward the door.

PJ’s feet flailed beneath her, her strength fading with lack of oxygen. She focused on the crib in the bedroom and gave new effort to saving her own skin. With all the force she could muster, she brought her heel up hard between her attacker’s legs.

The man grunted and slumped forward, jerking harder on the cord around her neck.

Her world faded and her strength drained. She couldn’t give up.

A loud crash sounded behind her as her apartment door slammed inward, bouncing off the wall. PJ heard it but couldn’t see who’d entered. All she could hope was that the cavalry had arrived to save her and Charlie.