Her Forever Hero (Page 52)

Something horrible must have happened. It could only be Sage or one of the Whitmans. It took a moment to get her frozen muscles to move, but finally she managed to get up and struggle toward the door.

She didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to find out who was out there this late at night. She loved her new place because it was away from the main hustle and bustle of Sterling, such as it was, but she was all alone in the woods. That thought normally didn’t frighten her, but the only people who came calling this late at night were bearers of bad news.

She reached the door and listened but didn’t hear any noise on the other side. “Who’s there?” she asked, but she got only silence in response.

“I’m not opening the door unless you tell me who’s there,” she called a little louder.

There was a thump on the other side of the door that made her heart race. Someone was out there, and whoever it was didn’t want her to know his or her identity. Slowly, trying not to make a single sound, she tiptoed over to her window and tried to work up the courage to peek outside. Easier thought than done, though.

When there were still no more sounds, fear filled her. And suddenly being in the middle of the woods wasn’t quite as pleasant as it had been. Tiptoeing over to her phone, her heart raced as she dialed emergency services. Had she shut her bedroom window? She’d opened it earlier to let the cool spring air inside.

“Nine one one. What’s your emergency?”

“Someone is at my door. They won’t answer,” she whispered into the phone.

“What’s your address, ma’am?” Grace gave her address and the voice continued: “Please stay on the line. I’m dispatching the sheriff to your place.”

The next ten minutes were the longest of Grace’s life. She curled up in a corner of the kitchen, below the counters and away from the windows, and clutched her phone in a death grip as she waited for either the sheriff to arrive or the intruder to come through her door and end it all.

Fear. It was a tangible thing. Only moments before the knock had sounded on her door, she’d been tired, ready to drift into oblivion, and then that noise, the knowledge that someone who was up to no good was on the other side of her door, had made her adrenaline spike, shaking her to her foundations.

“It’s just a prank,” she mumbled to herself, although in her gut she knew she was lying to herself.

When a pounding sounded on her door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Gracie, it’s Sheriff Thompson. Open up.”

Shivers racked her body as she got to her knees and then stood on wobbling legs. She hesitated at the door. “No one is there, Sheriff?” she called through it.

“You’re safe now, Gracie. Open up.”

The kindness in his tone made her suspicious, and her fear skyrocketed again. She undid the locks and threw open the door.

“I don’t think you should stay here by yourself, Gracie” was the first thing the man said.

“It might have just been a prank, but I’m really glad you’re here,” she told him, her entire body shaking.

“You can hang up the phone now, darling.”

Grace hadn’t even realized she was still clutching the phone and pressing it against her ear.

“Oh. I . . . I’m sure it was nothing. I’m sure it was just my imagination,” she told the sheriff, whom she’d known most of her life.

“It wasn’t a prank, Gracie,” he said, and he pointed at her door. She looked where he’d indicated and saw a note, written in big red letters, pinned to her door with a sharp hunting blade.

“What is this?” she gasped.

“It’s a threat, and I don’t want you here by yourself. You were real smart not to answer the door,” Sheriff Thompson said.

Just then, a truck came racing around the corner of her drive, squealing to a stop only a foot from the bottom of her stairs. Cam jumped out, looking wild-eyed, wearing jeans with the top button undone . . . and no shirt.

“Grace!” He rushed up the steps, practically knocked the sheriff over, and pulled her into his arms. “Hawk heard the call. He dialed me right away,” he said, holding her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m fine, Cam. I . . . I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said as she fought back tears.

“This is too much, Grace. Too many things have been happening. I want you to come home with me now,” he said, finally releasing her so he could look at her face.

“What do you mean, ‘too many things’?”

“You’re not unintelligent, Grace. Think about this. Someone was in your apartment, then there was a spill on the top of the outside steps right before you were about to walk down them. Your car was disabled, and you got lost in the snow,” Cam said, and her heart thudded more and more wildly with each thing he listed. “And now this note. The person is letting you know they aren’t playing. They want you afraid.”

“Well, it’s succeeded, Cam, because I am definitely scared.”

“Gracie, you need to go with Cam,” the sheriff said grimly. “You shouldn’t stay here alone until we figure this out.”

“But this is my home! They can’t chase me from my home,” she practically sobbed.

“It won’t be forever. This is a small town with a lot of neighbors who are more like family,” the man told her. “We’ll figure this out and we won’t let anyone hurt you, not ever.”

“Please, Grace. Don’t make me beg. Please just let me protect you,” Cam said.