A Third Moment in Time (A Collection of Short Stories) by Susan Stoker

Author:Susan Stoker [Stoker, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stoker Aces Production LLC

Chapter Two

Maylah stared at her neighbor’s ass as he walked toward her front door with her newest foster in his arms. This wasn’t how she thought this day would end. Hell, nothing had gone the way she’d expected it to today. Being carjacked wasn’t on her agenda, wasn’t something she thought she’d ever have to experience. She didn’t drive a fancy car, had been at that gas station in the middle of the day, and she wasn’t exactly the kind of woman she figured anyone would want to kidnap.

She was forty-eight and wasn’t what she would call beautiful…or even pretty. Her nose was too big, she was on the short side, her hair was never styled and she rarely wore makeup. She was too heavy, too average, too…boring.

Not only that, but she’d aged a lot in the ten years since her husband had died. It had been extremely difficult to get back on her feet after losing Ted. He was a good man, and they’d had a nice if not very exciting life. She’d been content. Finding her husband dead on the floor of their kitchen from a sudden heart attack had been a shock she wasn’t able to shake for years.

It wasn’t until recently, in the last two years or so, that Maylah had felt more like herself again. She’d found a purpose in fostering dogs and cats for a local rescue group. It felt really good to take in a scared and confused animal and help it gain confidence. And finding them loving homes was icing on the cake. But in truth, the animals healed her as much as she healed them.

When she’d left home that afternoon to get food and a bed for her newest foster, she hadn’t expected to find herself in the middle of a carjacking. And she’d insisted on checking herself out of the hospital because of the dog waiting for her at home.

But honestly, she felt awful. Her head hurt and she had a nasty case of road rash along the right side of her body, where she’d landed. She was unsteady on her feet, and on top of all that, the police had scared the crap out of her by reminding her that whoever had taken her car, also had her purse—with her keys and identification. He knew where she lived.

The detectives had reassured her that it was unlikely he’d come to her house; that in their experience, thieves took money and credit cards then dumped the purse in a dumpster somewhere. But Maylah couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the man who’d stolen her car had looked at her with lust in his eyes. He wanted more than her car, she was sure of it—which was why she’d bailed out without a second thought.

To try to block out the memory of the evil look in the carjacker’s eyes, Maylah instead turned her thoughts to her neighbor. She’d noticed him before, of course. He looked nothing like her husband. Greg was a few inches shorter, and not nearly as muscular.

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