When she pulled onto her own street, she relaxed further. This was home. This was safe.
Everything was quiet, the trees blanketed with spring blossoms and the birds chirping like mad. She pulled into the driveway and waited for a moment as the garage door opened, looking around for any signs of trouble. Nothing.
All the same, she quickened her pace as she walked the short distance from the freestanding garage to the side kitchen door, her keys gripped tight in one hand, her cell phone in the other. She wiggled her keys in the lock just as a dark shadow passed overhead, and she whipped around expecting a boogey man. Or woman.
It was just a dark cloud passing.
She laughed nervously as she hurried inside, then collapsed back against the closed door. In the sanctuary of her home, she dropped her purse on the counter but slipped her cell phone into her back pocket where she could grab it quickly if Sam called.
A movie. That’s what she needed to get herself to relax. She headed for the front room.
She didn’t hear a thing. But suddenly, she felt a sharp stab of pain on the back of her bare arm.
“Hey!” she yelped.
She spun around to see her attacker. If you could call her that. Señora Sanchez was holding what looked like a round, wooden stick with a pointed end, much like a popsicle stick. Except for the sharp point. It had barely drawn blood.
Allie was sure she was losing it. But…
Wow. That stung.
“Hola, Señora McBride.” Señora Sanchez took a few steps into the living room from the hall where she’d been waiting. Her magenta lips contrasted with her pale skin as she stretched them into a smile that didn’t reach her amber eyes.
Every nerve ending in Allie’s body was screaming one thing. Get out.
Allie pushed the other woman as hard as she could. The unexpected assault sent her sprawling against the wall.
Allie had a sinking feeling she knew why this woman was there. No way was she going to wait around and let it happen. She started to take off running.
But another, heavier figure stepped from the hall and grabbed her by the arms.
Terror flooded through her. He was holding her so tightly she couldn’t move.
“Careful, Javier,” Señora Sanchez scolded the man, who Allie recognized as the teacher’s son. “We can’t risk leaving any bruises.”
To hell with that. If they wanted to keep her still they were going to have to restrain her. Beat her, hit her. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going without a struggle.
Except, the oddest thing was happening to her.
Her fingers and her toes were starting to tingle. Even the tips of her ears seemed to buzz. And instead of her foot coming down to stomp on the brute, it wouldn’t move. She tried again.
Nothing was happening.
Señora Sanchez came close, and Allie tried to turn her head to gaze at the woman, but she struggled even to move. She tried to open her mouth, but nothing came out.
Dear God. What was wrong with her?
She then realized something else. Javier was no longer restraining her. He seemed to be…holding her up.
“Yes. I think she’s ready now. Let’s get her into the bathroom.”
Like a rag doll, she was swept up into the bastard’s arms. Her legs and arms refused to obey her brain’s scream to run.
My God. She was totally helpless.
Chapter Seventeen
It was her. It had to be.