Last Chance Hero. Melinda Di Lorenzo
You sure? Uncle Reed said you refused to let him give you a ride home earlier. Sane people avoid the bus.
She smiled again. Sasha’s uncle Reed, who had been her friend’s guardian since they were teens, also owned the private care facility where Jordynn worked. He often went above and beyond in the role. In fact, with her own parents gone—her dad before she was born and her mom just two years earlier—everyone in Sasha’s family kind of filled the void. Her two kids were like a niece and nephew, her husband like the brother Jordynn never had, and her uncle definitely saw himself as a surrogate parent. Sasha took it as meddling, but Jordynn didn’t mind the support.
Tell Reed I’m fine. I just worked a few extra hours tonight.
Uh-uh. No way. I’m not going to be the one to break his heart by telling him you’re trying hard to exhaust yourself.
At that, Jordynn laughed. It was true that Reed coddled her a little at work, but she could hardly feel any resentment. And in spite of his preferential treatment, she never took advantage.
It’s nice that he cares. Too bad none of his sweetness got passed down to you.
If you could see me, you’d know I’m rolling my eyes. Hard.
If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got the rest of the weekend off.
I’d kill for a weekend off. But...you know...kids.
There was the briefest pause, then another text came through.
You sure you’re okay?
Jordynn tapped the side of the phone for a second, thinking about what to say. She knew why her friend was asking. The date had glared at her all day from the tear-away calendar on the nurses’ station at work.
After a moment, though, she sighed and wrote,
Totally fine. Really. I’m just going to go home, go to bed, and not get up for at least ten hours.
There was a delay in Sasha’s reply, and she wondered if her friend was thinking about calling her out for her brush-off. But when the answer finally came, it was a five-word acceptance instead of a demand for her true feelings.
All right. Good night, BFF.
Jordynn tucked her phone back into her pocket as the bus lumbered to a halt.
Truthfully, she’d spent her shift alternating between being short-tempered and ready to tear up at any given moment. But she’d promised herself she’d get through it. And she had. She’d gone the full twenty-four hours without actually crying, and without letting the ache in her chest overwhelm her.
She supposed that was probably why she felt so tense now. The lack of emotional release, coupled with the utter exhaustion brought on by three hours of overtime tacked on to an already twelve-hour shift—almost all of it on her feet—was definitely a recipe for a bad state of mind. She was so much more than ready for her own split-level house. For her hideous, bunny-eared slippers and her cushy, oversize robe. She doubted she’d ever been so glad for a week to be over.
Still, she couldn’t quite shake a strange sense of worry at the thought of walking the two and a half blocks from the stop to her two-bedroom rancher.
Don’t let it win, she ordered silently.
She refused to give in to the melancholy and let herself think about the past. To wallow in the things she couldn’t change. Not even today, on the tenth anniversary of the day her life had become forever altered.
But as she pushed open the hydraulic doors and stepped into the chilly predawn air, her unease grew stronger. She pulled her thin coat a little tighter across her chest and glanced around quickly. The streets were empty, as was to be expected at this time of night. The neighborhood wouldn’t wake for an hour or more, and for now, the houses sat still, dark and quiet. Nothing unusual. Nothing to make her fingers shake the way they were.
Jordynn increased her pace anyway. And as her feet hit the ground, the bad feeling increased with a vengeance. It was compounded by the fact that the ring—the one she kept on a long chain around her neck—felt suddenly heavy. And the way it pressed into her sternum under her scrubs made the pressure in her chest that much more stifling. Cooler than her skin and far more unyielding, too. And when a single streetlight directly above her head flickered off, bathing her in momentary darkness, she almost turned to ran back and try to flag down the bus again.
You’ll feel better when you get home, she told herself.
But oddly, the closer she got to her house, the worse she felt. By the time she’d crossed the first two blocks, her heart had started to race with worry. And when she hit the end of her own block and put her driveway in view, her feet didn’t want to move another step. With a dry mouth, she pushed one shoe forward. Then the other. She made it to the very edge of the stone steps that led from the lawn to her front patio. And the next few steps wouldn’t come. Because Jordynn spotted a true reason to be concerned.
The light on her porch—the one she always left on—was gone. Not turned off. Not burned out. Gone completely. The bulb and the vintage case that gave it the unmistakable orange hue were both missing.
Her eyes flicked around in a vain search for a logical explanation. She found nothing. Not even shattered glass on the ground.
It wasn’t an accident.
As the realization hit her, Jordynn took a step back, fumbling to reach for the phone in her jacket. Her hand didn’t even get as far as her pocket before her back hit something solid.
Not something. Someone.
It took her a second too long to figure it out. Quicker than she could even get out a whimper, a hand slammed over her mouth. A rough, distinctly masculine palm.
She fought to get away, twisting, and dropping her purse and all its contents as she tried to throw an elbow into his stomach. The man bent away easily, and his hand stayed in place. She made another attempt to free herself, this time driving her foot backward. It was a futile move. Her shoe tumbled to the ground, and her sock slid uselessly off his pants. And suddenly, she was pressed against him, her arms pinned to her sides.
“Move again, and die,” warned a gruff voice. “Scream, and die. In fact, do anything I don’t like...and die.”
But the three-part warning wasn’t even necessary. Because when he eased away, the cold tip of a blade digging into the small of her back provided motivation enough. She held very still, praying that all he wanted was her money. Her silent hope went unmet.
The rough hand came down, and a heartbeat later, a cloth took its place. Her assailant shoved the fabric between her teeth, then back farther. Jordynn wanted to gag, and fought the urge. She didn’t dare make a sound. But as he forced her hands behind her back and lashed them together with a plastic tie, she couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes and spilling over to her cheeks.
Will it make him mad? she wondered. Is crying something he doesn’t like?
A few seconds later, it didn’t matter anyway. Her attacker slipped a hood over her head, covering up the evidence of her near-silent sobs. Then he spun her around and gave her a little shove, and Jordynn realized why he’d covered her face. He was going to take her somewhere, and she wouldn’t stand a chance of knowing a thing about how they got there.
“Walk,” the man growled.
Jordynn tried to obey him, but with the tears coming even harder, and the choking sensation growing worse, disorientation reigned. When she lifted her foot, it caught on one of the pathway stones. She stumbled, just enough to send her to her knees.
Above her, the man holding the knife snarled.
A chance. This is a chance.
But it wasn’t. The moment she managed to get to her knees, thick fingers landed on top of the hood. He gripped it together with her hair and dragged her back. She hollered against the gag in her mouth. Muffled. Pointless.
I’m