Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,115

attack much as Dr. Valentine had taught her. Sometimes letting the panic in actually abated it.

Not this time.

The attack took her full force, pricking sweat along her body. Her arms shook and her legs went numb. Her breathing panted out, her vision fuzzed, and her heart blasted into motion.

Maybe it really was a heart attack this time.

No. It was only a panic attack.

But it could be a heart attack. Maybe the doctors had missed something in her tests. Or maybe it was a stroke.

She couldn’t make it to the phone to dial for help.

Her heart hurt. Her chest really ached. Glancing up at the lock, a flimsy golden thing, she inched away from the door to the bed table on her hands and knees. Jerking open the drawer, she fumbled for a Xanax.

She popped the pill beneath her tongue, letting it quickly absorb. The bitter chalkiness made her gag, but she didn’t move until it had dissolved.

A hard, rapping sound echoed from the living room.

No, no, no. He was knocking on the door. Was it locked? Of course it was locked. She always kept it locked. But would a lock, even a really good one, keep a guy like that out?

Definitely no.

She’d been watching him, and he knew it. Maybe he wasn’t a guy who wanted to be watched, which was why he was moving his stuff all alone. Worse yet, had he been sent to find her? He had looked so furious. Was he angry?

If so, what could she do?

The online martial arts lessons she’d taken lately ran through her head, but once again, she wondered if one could really learn self-defense by watching videos. Something told her that all the self-defense lessons in the world wouldn’t help against that guy.

Oh, why had Mrs. Maloni moved to Florida? Sure, the elderly lady wanted to be closer to her grandchildren, but Cottage Grove was a much better place to live.

Her house had sold in less than a week.

Pippa had hoped to watch young children play and frolic in the large treed backyard, but this guy didn’t seem to have a family.

Perhaps he’d bring one in, yet there was something chillingly solitary about him.

Of course, she hadn’t set foot outside her house for nearly five years, so maybe family men had changed.

Probably not, though.

He knocked again, the sound somehow stronger and more insistent this time.

She opened the bedroom door and peered around the corner. The front door was visible above the sofa.

He knocked again. “Lady?” Deep and rich, his voice easily carried into her home.

She might have squawked.

“Listen, lady. I, ah, saw you fall and just wanna make sure you’re all right. You don’t have to answer the door.” His tone didn’t rise and remained perfectly calm.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to answer him, but only air came out. Man, she was pathetic. She tapped her head against the doorframe in a sad attempt to self-soothe.

“Um, are you okay?” he asked, hidden by the big front door. “I can call for help.”

No. Oh, no. She swallowed several times. “I’m all right.” Finally, her voice worked. “Honest. It’s okay. Don’t call for anybody.” If she didn’t let them in, the authorities would probably break down the door, right? She couldn’t have that.

Silence came from the front porch, but no steps echoed. He remained in place.

Her heart continued to thunder against her ribs. She wiped her sweaty palms down her yoga pants. Why wasn’t he leaving? “Okay?” she whispered.

“You sure you don’t need help?” he called, his voice rich and deep. Definitely sexy, with a whole male edge that went with that spectacular body. "I promise I can be all sorts of helpful to damsels in distress."

Was that a line? Was he trying to flirt with her or put her at ease? What could she say back? Something equally flirty so he’d be at ease and not curious about her? Nothing came to her fuzzing mind. “I’m sure.” Go away. Please, he had to go away.

“Okay.” Heavy bootsteps clomped across her front porch, and then silence.

He was gone.

***

Hours later, Malcolm West kept moving boxes into his house, wondering about the pretty lady next door. She hadn't reappeared in the window for hours.

He knew the sound of terror, and he knew it well. The woman, whoever she was, had been beyond frightened at seeing him in the window. Damn it. What the hell had he been thinking to approach her house like that?

A fence enclosed their backyards together, and he’d wondered