Lyin' Eyes by Julie Mulhern

Author:Julie Mulhern [Mulhern, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: J & M Press

Chapter Eleven

A deep growl had me levitating from my bed.

Grrr.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes. “What’s wrong, Max?”

Grrr.

Moonlight spilling through the window revealed a ridge of fur standing straight on his back.

Fear made an appearance, leaned over, and whispered in my ear, “You’re in trouble now.”

I considered my options. Max didn’t growl wolf. The rumble in his chest and throat meant something—an intruder, a body on the patio, a cat—was wrong.

I reached into my nightstand drawer and found the .22 I kept there. Feeling braver with a gun in my hand, I repeated my question. “What’s wrong?”

Grrr.

He paced in front of the closed bedroom door. I’d followed Max and his midnight growls before. It never ended well. I definitely wasn’t taking on whatever hid in the darkness the night before my wedding. I fumbled for the phone, dropped the receiver onto the bed, and dialed with my free hand.

Max stared at me with a slight sneer on his doggy lips, as if my new lack of bravery was a failing.

“Hello.” Just the sound of Anarchy’s voice calmed my frazzled nerves.

“Max is growling.”

I could almost see Anarchy sit straighter, run an impatient hand through his hair, clench his free hand. “Are you safe?”

“I’m in my bedroom.”

“And Grace?”

“She should be in hers. I’ll check as soon as we hang up.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Thank you.”

“You have your gun?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it with you. Do not go downstairs.”

Normally I bristled when a man told me what to do. But this was Anarchy, and he cared about our safety. “Promise.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I hung up the phone, tiptoed into the hallway, and stopped in front of Grace’s room.

Her door opened silently, and I peeked into her bedroom. She sprawled across her bed, her shoulders wedged between two teddy bears. She wore a ruffled nightie, and she’d shoved a daisy-covered blanket down to her waist. In sleep, she looked sweet and innocent and young, and I took a moment to listen to her steady breathing.

She was safe. And it would take a foghorn to wake her.

I backed into the hall, eased the door shut, and claimed a spot at the top of the stairs.

Max gave me a let’s-catch-the-bad-guy look.

“I promised Anarchy I’d stay upstairs,” I explained.

He rolled his eyes, then slinked down the stairs. He’d made no such promises.

“Max!” I whisper-yelled.

He glanced over his left shoulder, then continued to the first floor. He’d check the doors, maybe the windows, and attack any stranger.

What had I done to deserve tonight’s interruption to my sleep? Usually when someone invaded my home, I had an inkling as to why. Not tonight. More accurately, not this morning. It was Saturday, the day Anarchy and I would exchange vows. My heart fluttered with happiness. Happiness I ignored. Right now, I had to worry about potential intruders.

“Max!” I whispered into the darkness.

My dog didn’t respond.

Rather than raise my voice, I focused on controlling my heart rate.

I sat for an eternity while my ears strained to hear anything odd, and my eyes searched the darkness at the bottom of the stairs.

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