If she could just get to her cell phone on the counter.
Standing still, wrench over her head, Izzy listened. For a long minute she didn’t hear anything but the rain. The house was dark. This was her chance.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for her phone. As she darted for the counter, an arm grabbed her. She screamed and swung the wrench around, clunking her assailant on the head.
The arm loosened. “Christ!” The man she hit dropped to his knees.
“Flynn?” she cried, turning on the light.
When she turned back to him he was on his back, soaking wet, blood streaming down the side of his head.
“Oh, my, God, Flynn!” She dropped to her knees and touched his head, recoiling as she touched warm blood. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you!”
His dazed eyes opened. “Bad guy’s on the driveway…Lock the door. Cops on their way.” Narrowing his eyes, he stared at her for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“Bad guy? What bad guy?” she shrieked. Frantic, Izzy stood up, grabbed a wad of paper towels from the counter and dampened them, then pressed them to his head, trying to stem the flow of blood.
“The one I just caught breaking into your house.”
Izzy’s body shook violently. “I—I’m, yes, okay.”
“Good.” He closed his eyes.
“You’re bleeding bad, Flynn, I need to call an ambulance,” she sobbed.
Opening his eyes, he shook his head, some of the daze gone. “One on the way. I beat the shit out of that guy.” He grinned despite the pain he must be suffering. “Never knew what hit him.” Holding the paper towels to his head, Flynn moved to sit up, groaning as he did.
“Stay down. Wait for the paramedics.”
“I’m good. Just help me up.”
Knowing that arguing with him would be futile, Izzy slid one hand under his armpit and grasped his hand with her free hand, and pulled him toward her. He was big, and had he not done most of the work, he would have remained on the floor. Slowly, he stood with her help. Guiding him to the one chair left intact, she helped him into it. “How did you know someone was here?”
“I’ve been parked out front all night. It was too quiet for my liking so I decided to do a perimeter check. When I came around to the side of the house, he was just going into the kitchen. I got him as he was headed for the hallway.”
Her heart thundered against her chest. She could have been killed! “I was sound asleep. But something woke me. When I realized someone was trying to break in and I didn’t have my phone with me, I ran into Charlie’s room and grabbed his Brad Pitt wrench. I’m sorry, I had no idea it was you.”
“It’s okay. I’d take a dozen more if meant keeping you safe.”
Despite the shock of what had just happened in her house, Izzy’s heart swelled at his words. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Instead of nicely saying, you’re welcome, he scowled and said, “If you had listened to me in the first place, none of this would have happened.”
Distant sirens wailed closer.
Flynn was pissed. He stood slowly and tossed the bloody towels onto the counter. “You could be dead or worse, Isadora! I’m not going to take no for an answer again, you’re coming home with me and that’s where you’ll stay until this is over.”
“I’m sorry, Flynn,” she said. He was right. She’d been foolish to stay here alone, but when he’d asked, going home with him wasn’t an option.
He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “You scared ten years off my life. Don’t do it again.” He turned and strode out the door to meet the arriving cavalry.
Izzy moved to the doorway and listened as Flynn let loose a string of expletives.
“He was out cold, right there,” he said to the approaching cop, pointing to the driveway. “Motherfucker got away.”
“We’ll put a BOLO out,” the cop said.
“Get a dog out here stat. If he’s on foot, we’ll get him.”
The uniform called for a K-9 unit. Then Flynn gave him a description. White male, age late twenties early thirties, six two, two eighty, dark hair, eye color unknown, only disguisable mark was a deep scar that ran from chin into the bottom lip, dark pants and sweater. Flynn squatted and peered at something in the damp grass.
“Get me a bag,” Flynn commanded the officer.
Flynn pulled his cell phone out and made a call. As the police officer came back with an evidence bag, Flynn picked the item up with it, and sealed it.
“My guys are on their way in. I’ll hold on to this,” he said to the uniform.
“Less paper for me,” the cop said. “K-9 en route.”
Flynn glanced up at Izzy and waved her back into the house. Only because she was dressed in a T-shirt and panties and didn’t want to give OPD a free show did she do what he commanded.
She watched Flynn hold out his hands while a tech swabbed his hands. He walked to his SUV and took out a bag. Striding back to the house he gave short curt orders. A tech handed him a large paper bag. Flynn proceeded into the house and into her bathroom. Several moments later he emerged dressed in sweats, a tee-shirt and running shoes, carrying the paper bag with his clothing in it.
“Why did you change?” she asked.
Holding up the bag, Flynn said, “Could be transfer DNA from the bad guy. If there is, the lab will run it through CODIS and hopefully get a hit. Go get dressed,” he commanded.
He was awfully bossy.
Izzy put on a bra, changed into yoga pants, and was making her way back to the kitchen, when Flynn intercepted her. “Your house is officially a crime scene. Pack a bag, call your roommate and tell him to steer clear until further notice. We’re leaving.”
“But I can’t—”
Moving her against the wall with his big body, Flynn lowered his head and said firmly, “Of course you can. Now stop arguing with me.”
“I’m not going to stay with you.” It just came out. She wanted to stay with him, but now that she’d said it, she couldn’t take it back. Besides, he needed to know he couldn’t boss her around this way.
“Then stay at a hotel.”
“Fine,” she said and strode to her room to pack a bag. As she packed her bag, she cursed her temper. She’d just blown the perfect opportunity to be with Flynn. Not only that, she had no way of paying for a hotel. She barely had enough in her account to pay her half of the rent next month.
When she walked into the small living room, Flynn was seated on the sofa with a very cute female paramedic tending him. Her ample bust was level with his mouth as she bent over his head. It irked Izzy. It must have shown on her face because Flynn grinned. Whatever.
“Doesn’t look like stitches, Flynn,” the paramedic said, “It’s the head and it bleeds. But you could be concussed. I strongly recommend that you let us give you a ride to the ER to get checked out.”
“I know the signs. If I feel the need I’ll take myself in,” he said, brushing aside her concern.
When she stepped back and caught sight of Izzy, she made a little frowny face. Yeah, Izzy couldn’t blame her. Flynn had the same effect on her.
A few minutes later, she and Flynn exited through the front door. The rain had started up again, heavier now. Numerous cop cars and unmarked cars were stacked up in the street. There were people in her kitchen and around her house with flashlights, along with the sound of a barking dog she spotted in the back of a police car.
From what she’d overheard while she was packing, the dog had picked up the scent, even in the rain, but it stopped behind the house that backed up to hers. The bad guy must have come that way through her back neighbor’s yard, having parked his getaway car there.
“Isn’t all of this a bit of overkill?” she asked. “We were due to get hit.” Breaking and enterings in Oakland were not unheard of; in fact, in her neighborhood they were the crime de jour. It was just a matter of time before they got hit.