Meant To Be - Heaven Hill Series #1

Chapter Twenty-Five

Denise sighed deeply; it had been a very long day. She and Mandy had decided to completely clean the house they had been calling home, and her body was screaming. It was obvious to her she needed to start a workout program once her body allowed her to actually bend her arms after this. Of course Mandy hadn't felt anything, she'd run off with Andrew as soon as the sun had gone down. They had started having bonfires at night with other club kids and some of the younger club members. It had bothered her at first, but now she realized just how much she enjoyed her peaceful nights. She also loved that her kids had met others who lived this life and who understood it. The development of her kids was the most important thing to her, and in the past few days she realized just how much of a home they had made here. Their independence gave her independence, and that was a great gift that she had not counted on when she started this.

"Oh shower, how I love you," she moaned, letting the hot water rush over her sore muscles. Just maybe she'd be able to walk in the morning. If she played her cards right. When her fingers were pruned and the water began running cool, she got out. The hot water heater in this house was huge, so if she'd used it all, she had been in there quite a while.

Shutting the water off and stepping out, she winced as she reached over to grab her towel. The muscles in her back protested, and she groaned. Wrapping the towel around her body, she grabbed her brush and tried to pull it through hair made curly by the shower. The steam in the bathroom at least made her muscles feel pliant, and she felt like she could move just a little bit better.

"I am in such bad shape," she groaned. This must be how most women felt after doing Zumba for the first time.

Carefully walking into the bedroom, she sat on the bed and unwrapped the towel from her body. Downstairs, she could hear the front door shut and smiled, it was about time Liam got home.

"Liam, I need a massage," she yelled, leaning back on the bed and striking a pose. She had never done anything like that, but maybe it was time she started. Denise hoped that he would appreciate it.

She waited for a few minutes, and when there was no answer she called out again. "Liam?"

The stairs creaked, but she noticed that she hadn't heard the heavy stomping of his motorcycle boots. There had been no noise of him putting his keys on the table in the hallway, she hadn't heard the shuffling of mail that he usually brought in. Something wasn't right. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she began to feel uneasy. Her aching body protested as she quickly sat up, grabbing sweats and a shirt that Liam had left beside the bed after his workout earlier in the day. They swallowed her whole, and she cursed as she tried desperately to tie the drawstring on the pants. The bottom of the pants went well over the edges of her feet, and she fought to kick them out of her way. Her hands shook violently, but she finally got them tied and tiptoed her way back into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it before sinking down in between the toilet and the wall. If anything happened, maybe it would offer her some sort of protection.

Her heart beat rapidly, threatening to come out of her chest. She felt like one of those crazy girls in a horror movie waiting to die. Trying to regulate the breath rushing out of her mouth, she heard the floor creak in the bedroom and slapped her hand over her lips to keep herself from screaming. She wished she had something, anything, to protect herself with. The door handle jiggled as someone tried to turn it. Moments passed and she thought that maybe the person on the other side of the door had left. She was just about to get up when muffled gunshots sounded and bullets came through the door near the door knob. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. She could swear she saw the bullets whizzing by with her eyes.

That was it; she screamed bloody murder and cursed herself for backing into a corner. Now she had nowhere to go. A glass jar sat on the counter, holding q-tips. Thinking quickly, she grabbed it, throwing it as the door opened. Sheer luck finally won out as it hit the intruder in the head, and he screamed, blood pouring out of the knit mask that covered his face. He was tall and she was willing to bet he was strongly built. He took up most of the doorway that he stood in. If he approached her for hand-to-hand combat, he would likely kill her, and she knew that she couldn't allow that to happen.