The living room and kitchen lights weren’t on, but she saw a light coming from down the hall. She turned back and fought the front door closed. “Dustin? Cristina? Anyone home?”
In answer, a shadow came down the hall. A very tall, built shadow, over six feet. But here was the thing — Dustin wasn’t six feet. Plus he had a long, lanky runner’s body that tended towards skinny.
Truth was, Dustin looked like Harry Potter all grown up, complete with the sweet and kind characteristics — not like his body had been honed into a lean, mean, fighting machine.
Such as the one heading towards her.
And he kept coming, in tune to the house shuddering and moaning around them, like something out of a horror movie, and she reminded herself that horror movies made her laugh. But she instinctively stumbled back a step, tripping over her own two very wet feet and—
Landed on her ass.
She’d been doing Taebo for at least five years. She should be able to kung-fu his ass, all she had to do was stand up and execute a round-house kick—
Except the shadow crouched down to her level. “Are you okay?”
The question only further scattered her brain.. Why would a bad guy ask her if she was okay? “Keep your mitts off me.”
“Okay.” He lifted them in surrender. “Are you the woman who called? The one who needs help?”
Dawn had barely broken, and with no lights, he was still nothing more than a dark outline of a man. A very tall, built man that she blinked up at. “How did you know I called?”
“Because I was trying to get to the phone. I couldn’t find it, and then when I did, the battery was dead.”
He didn’t sound like a bad guy. He sounded like a sleepy, slightly irritated guy who’d been woken up, his voice low and raspy.
“You hung up too fast,” he told her.
Yeah, definitely irritated.
And also, oddly familiar. Who the hell was he?