Read No Stranger to Danger for Free Online

toward the double doors under the covered porch and let out a huff as she crossed onto the patio where the stones were spaced intricately apart and neatly clipped green grass textured through the seams. She growled just as she kicked a rented, white chair and bit back a cry. She limped the rest of the way into the house, past her large terracotta chiminea and a duo of white wicker chairs. She dropped the pilfered vibrator into the kitchen trash on her way by and went straight to her bedroom.
    The entire evening she had been careful to mind herself around her family, but all she wanted to do was curl up on the couch and scarf as much comfort food as she could possibly hold. The last thing she needed was for her preachy aunts and blistering grandmother to catch wind of her sudden employment status—or to hear their comments on overeating.
    As if they were leading examples.
    Standing in front of her dresser, Mara pulled her hair down from the tight bun and dropped the pins in a scatter over the mahogany top. She threaded her fingers through the long, black strands, but her usually straight hair bounced back into loose curls and she pulled it all up into a messy ponytail.
    She went to the bed where the garment bag was lying open and stepped out of her coral, open-toe heels. They had a slight platform, which made them taller than anything she normally wore. Mara made a wide O with her mouth as her toes sank into the carpet and her inner arch began to ache and cramp.
    " Mmm ," she sighed as the tight pain ripped through the center of her foot.
    Mara looked down at the dress clinging to her form and thought about how hard zipping it had been. She had borrowed the dress from a friend and former co-worker, Suzanne, who worked at the law firm she used to work at, before her boss fired her for stealing staples—or so the man had said.
    Mara made a face at the thought of the scum-sucking district attorney.
    He had fired her for another reason altogether, and then used his sway to block her from getting another job in her field anywhere in the city.
    Too bad she couldn’t prove that it was because she had refused a quickie in the office a week before, after working overtime on paperwork for a case.
    Thoughts of that night and his hand slipping around to her backside deflated her.
    "Beer first," she said to the garment bag and tossed the end of her ponytail as she started for the kitchen.
    She padded through the living room and onto the cold, Tuscan slate tile. The sun had sunk deeper and left the room dark now. Mara opened the fridge, and light spilled out onto the tile floor. She pulled a Dos Equis from the second shelf and reached for an opener on the granite counter, then popped the top off. She caught the spinning metal cap in the air and tilted the bottle up.
    She sealed her lips to the cold glass and downed half the beer before setting it on the counter and wiping the back of her wrist over her mouth. Mara reached back in the side-by-side fridge for salsa and turned, letting the door slap shut on its own.
    She took one step toward the chips—but the dark figure of a man sitting at her kitchen table rooted her to her spot.
    "Good stuff?" he asked, looking at the Dos Equis in her hand and then flicked his dark eyes up to hers.
    Mara dropped both the beer and the salsa and then screamed.
    She backed frantically into the fridge, slammed into it so hard it hit the wall behind. She scrambled to run from the kitchen, the shotgun in her closet flashing through her mind as she slipped across the tile, the bottoms of her pantyhose slick.
    Mara screamed again as the man's fingers clasped onto her hips, and they both fell hard to the cold slate-stone floor. Her body crushed under his and hurt from the impact. He climbed up her side to clamp a hand over her mouth, pulling her head against his chest as he did so. Mara clawed the floor until her nails broke, and she bit his hand with all the force she could. She cried against his palm and