Breaking Steele (Sarah Steele Legal Thriller)

Chapter 44

AS I CREPT AROUND the block, guided by moonlight, old, buried memories threatened to surface and I didn’t want to think about them right now. But it’s funny how the mind works. Like a trigger board, one thing touches another and sends a signal, and memories once forgotten flood the circuits.

I peeked over the nose-high back fence. There were no outside lights at the back of the house—only a concrete porch and cracked sliding door. There were no cars parked in the front driveway and I wondered if I was even at the right house.

But then, through the window, I saw a shadowy form go from one room to the other. It moved quickly through the darkness, not even turning on a light.

That was when I started to sweat.

Forcing down the fear, I harnessed the anger inside me. I had to do what I had to do. I pushed on the wooden gate and it opened with a dull creak. I tiptoed across the lawn and to the door.

Before I lost my nerve and threw up on the grass, I grasped the handle and shoved the sliding door sideways. It gave way. It either had a bum lock or I was really strong.

I smelled it before my eyes adjusted to the light.

Blood.

Hang on, Angela.

I moved forward slowly with my gun down to the right, holding on to it with both hands. I was shaking, and adrenaline coursed through me.

There was a gutted kitchen to my right, with broken cabinets and holes where appliances used to be. I could see a formal dining room behind it. There was a door in front of me, which I figured led to the basement. And there was a media room to my left, with wires and cords still sticking out from the wall. I went toward the basement door and pushed it open. The stairs leading down were dark, but a little light came from the bottom, giving me hope. This had to be the right house.

I made myself breathe. In and out. I couldn’t even hear my footsteps. Before I turned the corner, I tensed up.

I hesitated, and then rushed through with my gun raised.

 That was when I saw her. Tied with her hands behind her back to a wooden support post and her head down. Under her feet was a pool of blood.

I lowered my gun and ran to her.

“Angela … are you—”

At my voice, her eyes flew open. She cried and mumbled into her gag. Instant tears swelled in her eyes. I grabbed her to me, emotions roiling so strong I could barely handle them. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry now, everything’s going to be okay,” I crooned.

Gently pulling her face up, I reached to undo her duct-taped mouth. Suddenly, her gaze landed on something behind me. Her eyes widened and she gave a muffled scream.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Like a shadow, he rose from the corner, where he’d been watching. I gasped and turned, raising my gun. But he came at me fast. His eyes glowed in the wan light.

There was no time to fire off a shot. He batted at the gun with his fist. After years of training, my response was instinctual. I blocked the blow and countered with one of my own. I braced my elbow and struck him in the knee joint.

With a cry, he doubled over. I charged up with my shoulder, hitting him square in the mouth. I felt a tooth break into my skin. But then he raised a fist and struck me across the cheek, throwing me off balance.

I landed on my side.

“You’re both going to die now,” he said.

Not today. I grunted as I shifted my weight and brought the gun up to his face. “Goodbye,” I said, and then squeezed the trigger.

Either my aim was off, or he moved quicker than bullets. He flew out the door before I could fire again. The gunshot resounded through the room. I tasted gunpowder in my mouth. Full of anger, I shot again at the door.

Then I turned to Angela. Her body had gone limp and her eyes were closed. Bile rose in my throat. “No,” I groaned.

Dropping the gun, I lifted her head up with both hands and tugged the duct tape off her mouth. Putting two fingers to her neck, I checked for a pulse and then listened for breath.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Come on.”

If she didn’t make it, I didn’t know if I would.

But then I felt it. Her throat pulsed to life. It was weak, but still there.

“Hang on, Angela!” I said as I unwrapped the tape from her hands and then laid her on her back. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. “You’ve got lots more medals to win. I’ve never told the other girls this, but you’re way better than either of them. You’re something special.” I tugged at the tape on her legs, but it wasn’t coming off. “You’ve got a big life to lead, and you have to take Cassandra and Jessie with you. They love you so much, and so does your mama. You have to start treating her better, you hear me?” I finally made a tear in the tape and ripped it off.

My hands were covered in blood. Where was it coming from? I searched her body for the wound and found it on her lower ribcage. A big cut from a knife, and it was oozing blood and water.

I pulled my shirt off and pressed it to the wound.

“You stay with me, Angela girl.” I took out my phone to dial 9-1-1. “I’m gonna get us some help.”