She laughed at a funny cat video and then started watching the shenanigans of a YouTube comedian currently trending on Twitter.
Behind her, the pantry door creaked open.
She became perfectly still. Before she could turn around, cold metal pressed into the back of her head, and she heard a click.
Shanice stopped breathing, and she became rigid with fear. Oh dear god, that’s why the house had felt off. Someone had been inside.
She whimpered, too afraid to move even a millimeter.
“Shh, you’re going to be fine. You have something I need,” a male voice said.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
She started trembling, eyes sweeping the kitchen for a weapon. She couldn’t move fast enough to smash the glass of water over his head. He’d shoot her before her hand lifted halfway from the counter. She could stab him, but how would she get to the serrated knife almost within reach without him shooting her first?
“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart.”
“If you tell me what you’re looking for…” Her voice shook. Maybe she could buy some time until she figured out what to do. He needed something from her and therefore wouldn’t kill her right away, right?
“Put the phone down and turn around. Slowly.”
“I don’t want to see your face.” He’d definitely kill her if she saw his face and could identify him.
“Turn the fuck around!” the man said in a harsh tone.
On the verge of tears, Shanice closed her eyes, and her face crumbled.
With a trembling hand, she placed the phone on the island and slowly turned to face the intruder. He was tall and dressed in all black—black jeans and a black T-shirt that showed off his wiry, muscular arms. His dark hair was curly and tapered in the back. With his serious face and cold eyes, he looked like he’d never smiled a day in his life.
He kept the gun pointed only inches from her forehead, which magnified her fear tenfold. What if the gun accidentally went off and he shot her?
At such a devastating thought, Shanice whimpered again and closed her eyes. Terror sent another shiver tearing through her body.
“Shh. You’re going to be okay.”
“You’re going to kill me,” she whispered.
“No, I won’t. Open your eyes.”
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. If he’d told her to hop on one foot, she would have.
“Back up, slowly.”
Shanice backed up, slowly.
The intruder edged forward, as well. Without taking his eyes off her, he picked up her phone and powered it off. He dropped it into his pocket.
“Now it’s just you and me, and no chance you’ll be able to call anyone, okay? You’re not going to try anything funny, are you?”
Shanice shook her head.
“Good girl. Now, tell me where that list is.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“Don’t bullshit me!” he snarled, anger contorting his face into a mask of reddened fury. “You have a list of names and dollar figures. That’s what you said. I need that list. Now.”
He knows I called the FBI office.
“I don’t know what you mean. You have the wrong person.”
“Listen, bitch, I’m being nice, but I’m not going to ask you again.”
The words had hardly left his mouth when Vicente entered the kitchen behind him. No glasses. No tie. Wearing a dress shirt and jeans. She had no idea how a man so large had managed to move so quietly.
Shanice blinked in shock. “Vicente,” she said, without thinking.
The intruder swung toward him, and Vicente hit his wrist sideways, knocking the pistol from his hand. It flew to the floor, sliding across the tile into a corner.
With an animalistic growl, both men charged at each other, and Shanice jumped back.
Vicente was fast, dodging a fist and following quickly with a blow to the man’s neck. He followed that with a powerful fist to the belly.
The man grunted and doubled over, and Vincente grabbed a handful of his hair and slammed his face into the top of the island.
Shanice winced and covered her eyes.
He slammed his head again and again. When he was practically limp with blood leaking from his nose, Vicente grabbed his neck and head and twisted. She heard a crack and the man in black collapsed to the floor at his feet.
Her mouth fell open. “Oh my god! Did you kill him?”
“We need to get out of here. There will be others.”
“Others? Do you know him? What are you talking about?”
He looked so different. His eyes seemed darker and more piercing and his jawline firmer. Visually he was the same person, but now he appeared more in control and had an