Hush Little Girl by Lisa Regan (first e reader .txt) 📗

A loud creak jarred Josie from her thoughts. Her hand went to her holster, unsnapping it as she crept into the hallway. Had it come from up here or downstairs? She didn’t know the house well enough to say. Keeping one hand on the handle of her pistol, she took slow and silent steps back down the hall, toward the top of the staircase, head swiveling to look into the bedrooms as she went. As she came to the end of the hall, something in the bathroom caught her eye. On top of the sink was a toothbrush holder. It held four toothbrushes. Lorelei, Holly, Emily, and Rory. If someone had been trying to remove all evidence of Rory’s existence, they’d overlooked this one detail. Josie would have to take them all into evidence and see if they could get DNA and prints from whichever brush belonged to Rory.

Another creak drew her attention back to the hallway. Heart thundering, she took her pistol out and held it pointed downward. She was turning to press her back to one of the hallway walls when something heavy landed on her shoulder from behind. The gun dropped from her grip. She tried to turn to see what or who was behind her, but punches rained down on the back of her head and neck. It was only then she realized she was dealing with a person. A very angry person. Josie’s arms immediately went up, trying to block her head from being clobbered. She dropped down, hoping to catch sight of her gun, to retrieve it, but the person kicked her, sending her sprawling on her stomach, and straddled her. Fists pelted her. Her head snapped from side to side. All she was aware of in that moment was trying to stay alive and the sound of grunting above her.

There weren’t many fighting options for her, pinned on her stomach with fists smashing into the meat and bones of her arms where they shielded her head. Still, her lower body struggled to somehow wriggle out from beneath the man, to get her knees under her so she could buck him off, anything to slow him down or stop his assault. Nothing worked. Although her arms absorbed most of the attack, she wasn’t sure how much more she could withstand. But if she used her arms, her head would be exposed. Would he wear himself out? Could she wait that long? Trying to overcome her internal panic, she concentrated on the hands pummeling her. She couldn’t stay here all day, she told herself. He’d beat her to a pulp. She would have to be fast.

Keeping her face toward the floor, she quickly pulled her arms in and down so they were between her and the floor, elbows bent. Pushing up on her forearms, she used the leverage to send him off-balance. There was a two-second-long delay in the punches, which she used to her advantage, bucking with her hips and sending him over and into the wall. On her back, she kicked at him to keep him away, one of her hands searching for the gun. Her fingers closed over it and as she brought it up at the man, he launched himself onto her again, knocking the pistol out of her grip once more. She was in a stronger position on her back, however. Using her arms to shield her face this time, she bent her knees and pushed with her feet. She tried to buck him off again, but the hallway was too narrow. Instead, they just moved in one mess of fused bodies toward the top of the steps. The next time she tried to buck him off, he fell away from her. He was falling down the steps, she realized, but a split second later, she felt her own body begin to tumble. His hands gripped her shirt, pulling her with him.

Together, they tumbled to the bottom. Josie’s adrenaline kept her from feeling anything on the way down. Once at the bottom, Josie realized she was suddenly free. She looked up from where she’d landed on her back in time to see the shadowy figure bolt out the front door. Scrambling to her feet, she limped after him, only then realizing her left ankle was throbbing. Ignoring the pain, she picked up her pace, banging out the front door onto the porch. Her eyes searched the front yard where her vehicle sat a few yards from Lorelei’s truck. A mountain bike lay between the two. That definitely hadn’t been there before.

She hurried down the steps, rubbing an ache in her shoulder. “Pax?” she called.

There was the snap of a branch to her left, so she went that way, following the sound into the trees. Her feet staggered over pine needles and an area of thick brush. Every few seconds she stopped, ears straining to hear any movement. The ground rose and then fell again. She had no idea which direction she was going. Her labored breath roared in her ears. The ache in her shoulder spread across the back of her neck. The throbbing in her ankle grew worse. She heard another branch snap to her right and turned that way. She thought she saw a flash of brown fabric in her periphery and adjusted course. As she went, her mind tried to work through any details her subconscious might have picked up about her attacker while her conscious mind and body fought him off. He’d been wearing earth tones, she remembered that much. Brown sweatpants, she thought. Possibly a drab-green hooded sweatshirt.

The sound of ragged breath that was not her own invaded her ears. She froze and tried to slow her racing heart. Turning toward her left, she saw him, back leaned against an oak tree. His chest heaved. His head dipped downward. A fine sheen of sweat covered his thin, pimpled face.

“Rory,” Josie said.

His head snapped up, and Josie saw the