Читать книгу The Taking of Carly Bradford - Ramona Richards - Страница 13

The alarm siren sliced through Dee’s brain, blurring her vision and making her teeth ache. Dizzy from the pain of the attack as well as the alarm, she pressed her hands over her ears as she braced herself in the doorway leading from the hall into the lodge’s great room. Moonlight laced through the windows, creating stark bands of silver light throughout the room, while the lights that ringed the house flashed like yellow, disco-era strobe lights.

Near the door, Maggie frantically entered the alarm code into a keypad with one hand, while the other clutched a baseball bat. Both hands trembled furiously, but she succeeded. The alarm went silent and the outside lights stopped flashing. She turned on the inside lights, and the women looked at each other. Maggie swallowed hard and renewed a two-handed grip on the bat. “Are you okay?”

Dee nodded once, then whispered, “Where’s Fletcher?”

“Still with Tyle—”

Maggie’s words broke off as the front door burst open. They both screamed, whirling toward it. Fletcher stood there, gun drawn. His gaze swept the room, then focused on his wife. “You all right?” His voice, low and guttural, sounded like a drum in Dee’s ears, and her knees felt weak. Stumbling forward, she fumbled for one of the soft chairs near the fireplace on the front wall and sank down into it.

Instead of answering Fletcher, Maggie nodded toward the back door, which stood open. Following her lead, Fletcher exited cautiously onto the back deck, scanning all around him. Maggie watched him go, then a horrified look crossed her face as a raw wail echoed through the house. “David!” She fled down the hall on the other side of the great room, toward her baby son.

Dee drew her knees up to her chest and pushed deeper into the chair, confusion clouding her mind and adrenaline making her shiver. She realized that her thoughts remained locked in a swirl because of the painkillers she’d taken, but she couldn’t blame the drugs for the maelstrom of emotions within her. A black fear blended with a stark sense of loss yanked her back to the dark days following Mickey and Joshua’s deaths, when daily she felt as if she were being pulled into a bottomless pit.

“I can’t do this again.” Her choked voice sounded flat and unfamiliar, as if it were not her own, and the fear spiked again. This time Dee realized the fear came not from the alarm or the attack but from deep within. A fear that this would push her back to the chasm of grief that she had dwelled in for so long.