Standing In The Shadows. Shannon McKenna

Standing In The Shadows - Shannon McKenna


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      “I’ll help as much as I can, but I can’t do it alone.” Erin’s voice shook.

      “Yes, I know,” Barbara hastened to say. “I’m sorry I scared you, baby. I’ll pull myself together, and we’ll all be fine. You’ll see.”

      “Cindy, too. Maybe we could set up a meeting with the scholarship committee, convince them to give her another chance. She can’t just quit school. I’ll call her tonight.”

      “Yes. You do that. She looks up to you,” Barbara encouraged. “I appreciate your help, hon. I really do.”

      Erin pulled on her jacket and hesitated, gazing at her mother with big, worried eyes. “Are you sure you’re going to be OK, Mom?”

      “More than sure,” Barbara assured her. “You go and get packed. Have a good trip. Call when you get there, OK?”

      “I can’t,” Erin said. “Your phone’s cut off.”

      Barbara flinched. “Oh, God. Well, don’t worry about it, hon. I’ll take care of it right away.”

      “I’ll do it when I get back, Mom,” Erin offered. “I don’t mind.”

      “Don’t worry. Run along and get ready. You have to be at your best tomorrow,” Barbara urged.

      Erin gave her a tight, lingering hug and a kiss, and left.

      Barbara peered out the window and watched Erin run down the sidewalk, light-footed and graceful. She turned the corner and was lost to sight.

      Barbara straightened up and looked around with a new sense of purpose. She twitched the crocheted throw on the loveseat back into place and rearranged the pictures on the mantel. She gathered up the mail and rifled through the envelopes with a semblance of her old efficiency, shaking her head at all the past due notices.

      It was time to stop moping and working herself into a state. Making her little girl worry herself sick. For heaven’s sake.

      She stared at the TV with hostile eyes, and finally knelt down, plugged in the power strip, reattached the cables, and pushed it back to its place against the wall. She took the remote in her trembling hand and held it out in front of her like a weapon, challenging the blank screen. The mail crumpled against her chest in her shaking hand.

      Enough foolishness. What she had seen was the result of too many sedatives. And it would be nice to watch the evening news.

      She turned it on.

      Gleaming, naked bodies, grunts and moans…the film flickered, but the images were horribly clear. Her husband. His mistress. She stabbed at the remote. The TV did not respond. She stabbed at the off button on the TV itself. Nothing. The thing was possessed.

      She knocked the appliance onto the floor, but the bodies kept on grunting and heaving, lewd and bestial. Cackling, demonic laughter echoed in her head. She lunged for the fire iron by the fireplace and smashed it down against the screen. It sparked and popped, spraying glass all over the carpet. The demon TV was finally silenced.

      Barbara Riggs stared at the fire iron protruding from the TV’s shattered belly. She lifted her hands to her face. Envelopes fluttered down around her like snow, forgotten.

      She sank to her knees. A high-pitched mewling sound was coming from her mouth. Shards of glass ground themselves into her knees. She barely felt them. Her heart pounded. Her lungs wouldn’t take in air. She was coming apart. Shaking to pieces.

      The terror filled her mind like black smoke, bearing her under.

      Chapter

      3

      The car pulled to a stop beside Erin. She jumped and cowered back against the ivy-covered stone wall until she heard Connor’s voice coming out of the dark interior of the vehicle. “It’s just me.”

      Relief, anger, and excitement all mixed and fizzed in her belly. She brushed herself off and groped for her dignity. “You scared me!”

      “Yeah, I noticed. Pretty spooked, aren’t you?”

      She could think of no reply to such an obvious statement, so she just started walking again.

      The car followed her slowly. “Come on, Erin,” he cajoled. “I’ll give you a ride home. You’re safe with me. Get in.”

      She glanced down at her watch. The next bus wouldn’t pass for twenty minutes. “It makes me nervous to be followed around,” she snapped.

      “That’s tough. It makes me nervous to see you alone on the street at night,” he replied. “Get in.”

      She got in. The window whirred shut, the locks snapped down, and she was alone in a car with Connor McCloud. The fierce barbarian warrior who had played a starring role in her sexual fantasies for years.

      “You need a full-time bodyguard until Novak’s back in custody,” he said sharply. “You can’t wander around by yourself. It’s not safe.”

      “A bodyguard?” She snorted in derision. “On my budget? I can barely afford to feed my cat.”

      “I’m not asking for pay.”

      “You?” She stiffened. “Good God, Connor, you can’t—”

      “Put your seatbelt on, Erin.”

      Her stiff, chilly fingers struggled with the belt. “I don’t want a bodyguard,” she said nervously. “I particularly don’t want you for a bodyguard. Nothing personal, but I don’t want to have anything to do with the Cave. I don’t want to see Dad’s ex-colleagues ever again.”

      “I’m not with the Cave anymore,” he said. “Haven’t been for months. They don’t think you need protection. I do. This is my idea, and I’ll take responsibility for it.”

      “Oh. Uh…” She searched desperately for words. “I, um, really appreciate the thought, Connor, but—”

      “You don’t take me seriously,” he said. His voice was sharp with frustration. He flipped on his turn signal, and turned onto her street.

      “Novak is probably busy plotting to take over the world by now,” Erin said. “I’m sure he has better things to do than bother with the likes of me. And how do you know where I live, anyway?”

      “Phone book.”

      “That’s not possible. I’m not in the book yet.”

      He slanted her a wry glance. “You’re in the database, Erin, even if you’re not in the book. Anyone could find you.” He parked in front of the decaying facade of the Kinsdale Arms and killed the engine. “This place is grim. What happened to your apartment on Queen Anne?”

      Another surprise. “How did you know about—”

      “Ed bragged about you when you got that hotshot job at the museum and moved into your own place,” he said. “We all knew.”

      She winced at his mention of her father, and stared down at her lap. “This place is cheaper,” she said simply. “Thanks for the ride.”

      His car door slammed, and he followed her into the lobby. “I’ll walk you up to your apartment.”

      “That’s not necessary, thank you,” she told him.

      Her words were futile. He fell into step behind her as she started up the staircase. She had no idea how to deal with him. He was so stubborn and determined, and she didn’t want to be rude to him.

      Six flights took forever, with his huge, quiet presence behind her. She stopped in front of her door. “Good night,” she said pointedly.

      He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at her with unnerving intensity. “Erin. I really didn’t want you to get hurt.”

      “I’m all right,” she whispered. It was a lie,


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