Running From Fate (59 page)

A loud, harsh sound echoed in her ears as she pelted up the stairs, completely obscuring any noise from below.
When she realized that it was the agonized sound of her own breathing, she slowed down slightly and made a conscious effort to calm down.
With any luck, her pursuer was still trying to get his balance back.
Her slim hopes were dashed when she heard the soft drag of footsteps on carpet b
efore she had eve
n reached the top of the stairs.

Mira could see the doorway to her room from where she stood, but between here and there was a short expanse of hallway with a darkness that was made lighter by the presence of two windows.
When she hit the top of the stairs her silhouette would be starkly visible, showing the man below exactly where she had gone.
Making as little noise as possible, she dropped to her stomach and slithered, snakelike, up the remaining stairs and across the hall to her room.
Once
inside the concealing darkness
she stood up and paused momentarily, entranced by the shadows that her lacy curtains made on the walls as they fluttered in the breeze.
Before she could snap out of it
she heard footsteps halt at the head of the stairs
.  Her luck was out.  T
hey unerringly turned in her
direction.

With no time
to spare, she
raced inside
the
built-
in
closet
and pulled the doors shut
.
Using a
large, sturdy suitcase
, she
boost
ed
herself onto the top shelf and pulled a pile of blankets over her body.
 
She
had never considered herself to be claustrophobic, but as the steps got closer and her breathing became heavier, her cramped hiding space began to feel like a coffin.

Time stretched out elastically, each moment seeming like a small lifetime as he walked into the room and performed a thorough search that eventually led him to the very closet in which she
hid.
The tri-fold doors squeaked slightly as he pulled them open and her breath slowed down
to little more that a trickle.

Something sharp pricked her leg and she realized that she still held the knife.
He had moved forward until his body was almost inside the closet as he crouched down to look at something on the floor.
Now was her chance. 
If she was very quiet and quick enough, she might be able to get the drop on him.
She slithered forward and peeked out of her nest.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a high, singsong voice
from directly below her.
Moonlight arrowed through the room and glinted dully on the object that he held in his hand.

Shit!
He had a gun.
  Why had she not noticed that before?  Her puny knife was no match for him.
With a soft breath, she pulled back, forced her muscles to relax, and waited.
After what seemed like an eternity he turned away, leaving the doors
open,
and headed toward the adjoining bathroom.

“Did you know, Mira,” he asked rhetorically, “that I’ve been watching you for months now?
I haven’t exactly had anything else to occupy me since you took
away
my
carefully constructed
life and my dear wife left me.
”
He laughed humorlessly.
“
Actually,” he mused.  “I’ve been
thinking about
killing you
since before you even met me.  Did you know that our fathers knew each
other?
 
You could say that I’m following in his footsteps.”
Cupboard doors opened and closed as he searched.
“
Well
,” he continued conversationally.
“
The poor man
was rather crazy by that point.  H
e
just
couldn’t handle the loss of his business
when your father found out about the little switch I made
.”  He sighed dramatically.  “So it was up to me
to handle things.  He didn’t have the guts
.”
 

Mira huddled under the blanket
as tears rolled down her face.  H
er poor father.  She wiped her face and strengthened her resolve.  She would
survive
and then the bastard would pay.

“You know,” he continued from somewhere in the bedroom.  “
I thought it was greatly amusing to hire the daughter of the man I killed.  Not that I felt sorry for you,” he added.  “He deserved it.  But, i
f you hadn’t crossed me I
might
have left you alone
.  Y
ou
really
have no one to blame but yourself.”  He giggled girlishly.  “I will admit, though, that I have become
rather obsessed.
I’ve fantasized about
killing you so many times
I’ve lost count.
If it hadn’t been for your boyfriend and that stupid blond
woman
who’s
been sne
aking around
I’d have had you long before now.
Of course,” he
added
thoughtfully.
“The wait has sweetened my anticipation.
I promise that when I find you, you will die slowly.”

His voice finally faded as he walked off, apparently heading toward the guest bedroom.
Mira quickly pushed the covers back and slid carefully from her hiding space.
With no time to lose, she ran for the window and looked out.
To her horror, the branch that had stretched toward her house was gone, broken on the ground below.
She wanted to shut her eyes and wail, but the luxury of th
at release would have to wait.  S
he had to be out before he came back.
There was no choice, but to jump and try to snag a lower branch.
  At least if she missed and broke her neck on the fall it would be quick.
She slid a leg over the sill.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mitchell warned from the doorway.
In case she didn’t get the point, he raised his gun high and fired, rai
ning chunks of plaster on her
head.

A cold sort of calm overtook her and she slid back in and stood straight, hiding the knife behind her back. 
If she had to face him she would go down fighti
ng.

“Good girl,” he crooned.
“Now, walk to the bed and take off your clothes.
  I want to see what that
rich boyfriend of yours has been screwing
.”
He shifted the gun to his left hand and pulled
out a switchblade.
“Then,” he continued, breathing more heavily.
“You and I will play a little game.”

There was no way in Hell, Mira thought, as white hot anger replaced her fear.
Never, would she be a victim again.
She would rather die first.
With a scream of rage, she charged, holding the knife in front of her.

The first bullet clipped her side, leaving a burning trail th
at quickly turned numb, but she
ignored it, focused only on one goal.
The second bullet hit her high in the chest with a jolt of pain that should have knocked her out, but she forc
ed herself to stay upright.  W
ith her last bit of strength, she raised the kn
ife and shoved it into his neck.

As her vision
gray
ed she searched desperately for an anchor.  Finally, she managed to pull up a picture of James’ face.  She held onto it and let the spreading darkness take her.

**********************************************
************

The patrol car screeched to a halt
in front of the darkened townhouse and James was o
ut and running
before the engine had even cut off.

“Wait,” Devon yelled as he leapt out of the car and pulled out his gun in a practiced move.
“You have to calm down and let me do this the correct way.
For Gods sake, you don’t even have a gun.
Fine then,” he added as James pulled open the front door and disappeared.
“Just don’t get killed!
”

His own safety was the last thing on James’ mind as he raced through the dark house calling for Mira.
He heard a weak yelp from upstairs and followed it, leaping treads three at a time.
  He could
smell the stench of death even before he reached her bedroom and his heart clenched in agony as he thought of what he might find there.
His footsteps wanted to drag, delaying the
moment of discovery, but he forced himself forward
and leaned against the
door
surround as he stared into the
moonlight flooded room
.

For several blessed moments his eyes refused to take in the scene, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of blood that pooled around the two people on the floor.
An agonized keening arose as he ran across the room, slipping on the spilled blood, and sank down next to Mira.
With arms already aching from emptiness, he gathered her still warm body against his chest and rocked back and forth.
When a small, wet tongue rubbed across his face, licking away the tear
s
he hadn’t been aware of shedding, the horrible keening stopped and it was only then that he realized the tormented sound had come from him.

No matter
what he had believed earlier or
what he had said to Mira as they
sat
outside, his feeling
s for her went much deeper than
caring.
If he lost her, he would lose everything.
“Please baby,” he begged in a tear choked voice.
“Please don’t leave me here alone.
I need you.”

After glancing at the dead man with the knife sticking out of his throat, Devon holstered his gun and walked over to lay a comforting hand on his friend’s
shoulder
.

Mira’s
chest moved imperceptibly.

“James,” Devon said
loudly.
When James didn’t respond he
grabbed hold of his shoulder
and shook.
“
James s
he’s not dead.”