Chapter 70
SEVENTY
Dalton
Rhonda Glasser stirred from unconsciousness in a confused fog. She blinked to clear her vision and realized she was lying on the floor in the hallway, a sliver of sunlight shining through the hall window.
Fear crept through her as tidbits of memories flashed behind her eyes. She blinked against them and tried to sit up, but the room spun in a dizzying whirlwind.
Daylight seeped through the window, and a sharp pain ripped through her skull. Her head throbbed, and she touched it and felt a gash. Her fingers came away sticky with blood.
She groaned as shadows drifted around her then she turned her head to the side and realized Lou Lou’s bedroom door was open. The house was quiet, no baby chatter.
“Dana Jo,” she whispered. Silence echoed back and panic seized her.
Another shadow floated behind her eyes as memories of the night before flitted through her mind.
Dark, tall… shifting. The sound of footsteps came from the stairs. She’d just tucked Lou Lou in bed. Maybe Dana Jo was home.
The floor in the hall creaked. Maybe her daughter had returned from her AA meeting in time to kiss Lou Lou good night. Then she stepped into the hallway.
Suddenly she sensed someone behind her. Detected the faint scent of a man’s musky odor.
Before she could turn around, something hard whacked her on the back of her head. Her knees buckled and she screamed as his fist connected with her head again. Her knees hit the floor and she doubled over. Then a heavy boot came down on her back and pain robbed her breath.
Lou Lou… dear God… Lou Lou!
Her granddaughter’s scream filled the air. Rhonda tried to push herself up, but the world twirled and nausea climbed her throat. From the floor, she saw black boots and a shadow passing her. Terror wrenched her as her attacker carried Lou Lou down the steps.
“No!” She attempted to slide forward and grab his ankle, but he kicked his foot backward and his boot slammed her in the face. Blood spurted, pain ricocheted through her nose and her head lolled back.
Then everything went black.
Rhonda couldn’t breathe as reality returned. It was morning now. Had Dana Jo come home last night? If so, where was she? Her daughter wouldn’t have left her on the floor unconscious.
Her chest squeezed with fear. She had to get help.
Fumbling to find her phone, she realized it was in her back pocket. Fingers still sticky with blood, she pulled it out.
Her vision blurred for a second, but she finally punched 9-1-1. “Help me…” she whispered. “Please help…”