by Lisa Childs
As she’d pointed out, she wasn’t the one who’d been attacked. It hadn’t happened here. Of course, they weren’t aware of everything that had happened here.
She shivered as she remembered all the nights she’d lain awake listening to that crying. And then the footsteps...
Someone had been inside with her and Blue. Why? What had he wanted?
Just to drive her crazy?
“Damn it,” she murmured.
At least Blue was asleep. Or was he...?
She could hear crying. Faint crying... And Blue, when he cried now, cried loudly. Angrily.
It wasn’t coming from him. It was coming from outside the door.
While they hadn’t changed the locks because Dane had wanted to catch the intruder in the act of sneaking in, he had added slide bolts to both doors for when she was alone. The minute Lars and Nikki had left, she’d slid them. And of course, she’d made certain all the windows were locked, as well.
Nobody could get inside. Nobody could get to her and Blue now.
She didn’t need Dane, which was a good thing because he must have changed his mind about moving in to protect her. That was fine, though. She would probably be safer without him.
But just as that thought entered her head, she heard a creak. First on the front porch. Then against the door. As she stared at it, the knob turned.
Someone was trying to get inside. It wasn’t Dane. He knew about the slide bolts. He would know that she’d have them on, so he would have knocked.
And then there was that crying...
It was louder now. Closer.
Like right on the other side of that door.
Her intruder had come back. The door began to rattle in the jamb. And the screws holding the slide bolt to the jamb began to move slightly. Would it hold?
Would it keep out the intruder?
She wished now that she had let Lars get her a gun. Or she had kept Dane’s. Where was he?
Had he arrived only to be stopped by the intruder? That must have been whoever had attacked him earlier, determined to get to her.
“Who’s there?” she called out. “Who is it?”
She hoped for Dane to answer. Or even Lars or Nikki. She wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d changed their mind about leaving and had come back to check on her.
But nobody answered her. The door only began to rattle harder in the frame, testing the bolt. Who the hell was out there?
And how soon before the person got inside—with her and Blue?
* * *
Hearing the fear in her voice as she called out through the closed door, he smiled. She sounded like she had all those other nights she’d heard the crying. She sounded scared and vulnerable. The original plan would have worked—had it not been for her calling that man to her rescue.
Dane Sutton must have installed some kind of dead bolt to the jamb. Because the lock had turned with the copied key from the ring he’d lifted from her big purse at the coffee shop. He’d been so close to her that day.
But he’d been close other days and nights, as well. He could have taken her out any of those times. But killing her hadn’t been part of the plan.
Then.
But Dane Sutton hadn’t left them much choice. How had he overpowered all of those gang members he’d hired? How had one man overpowered four?
He glanced nervously around. Dane Sutton wasn’t here. Not yet.
He suspected he was coming, though. So he didn’t have much time. He needed to get inside—he needed to get to Emilia Ecklund now.
While she had no one to protect her...
He wanted to just kick open the door like he’d watched her brother kick open the door to Dane Sutton’s apartment earlier that evening. Except that wasn’t part of the plan—the new one they’d had to concoct when Dane Sutton had interfered with the first one.
He hurried around to the back door. As he’d suspected, that one had an extra lock, too. He rattled the knob and the door in the jamb. He quickly realized it wouldn’t be any easier to open than the front one.
So he stepped over to one of the windows. They were all locked. He already knew that. If only there had been enough time to carry out the plan before Emilia had gone inside the house....
But that curly-haired woman had been outside as well, the one who’d been with her at the chapel. Like Dane Sutton, she was a bodyguard. So he’d had to wait until she and Emilia’s brother had driven off. And hopefully those damn kids had gone back to finish the job he’d paid them to do: completely eliminate Dane Sutton.
Anger and frustration surged through him with such force that he fisted his hand inside the leather glove and propelled his fist through the window to the half bathroom. The glass broke and tore the glove and his skin beneath the leather.
He cursed at the pain.
Emilia would pay for that, just like she would finally pay for all the other pain she’d caused.
This wasn’t the original plan. But it would work.
It had to.
She must have heard the glass breaking because her scream rang out from inside the house. She was probably running toward the baby to protect him. But she would only put him in more danger.
That was why she needed to be eliminated. Now.
Ignoring the pain in his hand, he knocked aside the rest of the jagged glass and pulled himself over the sill. He was inside and that was all that mattered.
Now he could deal with Emilia Ecklund, once he found wherever she’d gone to hide with her son. But she wasn’t hiding. She was standing in the doorway, a big knife clenched in her hands.
“Who are you!” she demanded to know again.
Along with the gloves, he wore a hood and a mask. She wouldn’t be able to recognize him. But even if she caught a glimpse of him, it wouldn’t matter.
“I called the police,” she threatened.
She might have. But he suspected she’d called Dane Sutton again instead. Hopefully those damn kids had finished him off by now.
And now he could finish off Emilia.
Chapter 11
“Get out of here!” Emilia shrieked at the masked intruder. “The police are coming.”
They would be coming if she had called 911, but she hadn’t. She’d run into the kitchen to get her purse, which she’d left on the counter when she’d heard the glass break in the half bath off the kitchen. Instead of her cell, she’d grabbed the knife.
It would protect her and Blue more than a phone call. The police could take long minutes to arrive. And the intruder was already here, already inside with her.
Instead of heading for the window he’d broken, the intruder moved toward her. He had no weapon that she could see. Just his size. He was big. Not as big as Dane or her brother. But bigger than she was.
She lifted the knife and backed toward the door. Maybe he only wanted to move past her—to head outside that way. But she couldn’t take that chance. She couldn’t let him get anywhere near the stairwell and up to where her son slept.
Or at least she hoped he slept. She could hear that crying more loudly now. It wasn’t coming from above them, but from within this room. She suspected he had a recorder—or a phone—in his pocket playing that awful, poignant cry.
“What do you want?” she asked. “Why are you doing this to me?”
He said nothing. She must know him or why was he wearing the hood and mask.
She lifted the knife higher and held it out between them. “Get out of here!” she screamed again. “Or I will stab you.”
Instead of backing away from the blade that gleamed in the bathroom light, the man stepped closer. And as she swung the knife toward him, he closed his hands around her wrists. He was stronger than she was. He squeezed until her grasp weakened and the knife sli
pped from her fingers.
She kicked and cried out, trying to fight him off. But he was too powerful. He held her wrist in the tight grasp of one of his gloved hands. Then he reached for the knife with the other. And he lifted the blade toward her wrist.
“Noooo!” she screamed. “Noooo!”
He intended to kill her. Slowly.
Painfully.
* * *
The minute Dane opened the door of his truck he heard the scream. The fear and desperation in it rent the night air and his heart. Leaving his truck door open, he ran for the front door of the house. He’d drawn his gun, so with the hand not holding the Glock, he reached for the knob. It turned, but the door held tight.
She’d thrown the slide bolt he’d installed. So how had someone gotten inside with her?
She couldn’t be alone and that terrified. He stepped back and lifted his leg, kicking the wood until the jamb splintered and the door flew open, banging against the wall behind it. Then he rushed through the house.
The living room was empty. So was the kitchen although the back door stood open. Unlike the front, the bolt hadn’t been slid home to secure it.
“Emilia!” he called out. Her purse sat on the counter. Her keys and cell phone had spilled out of it next to an overturned knife block.
His heart beating fast and hard, he called out again. “Emilia!”
In response he heard a whimper. He also heard a cry—that came from above and sounded loud and healthy. The whimper was what tore at his heart. It was full of pain. He followed the slight noise toward another open door—this one off the kitchen.
Emilia lay on the floor, her pale hair covering her face. Blood smeared the white tiles around her.
“Oh, my God,” he gasped as he dropped to his knees beside her.
She reached out and blood dripped from her wrist and streaked down her arm. How deep was the cut? Had it hit an artery?
He grasped her arm to study the wound. But she pulled away from him.
“Get him!” she said.
“Blue?” he asked. She must have heard the baby crying, too.
“The man,” she said. “He just ran out.”
That was why the back door stood open. Someone had just left. Shards of glass lay on the tiles in front of the window. That must have been how he’d gotten inside.
Dane cursed. He should have come sooner. But he’d thought Lars and Nikki would stay with her. Lars and Nikki didn’t know she was in danger, but he knew and had left her unprotected. He wouldn’t do that again. He shook his head. “We need to call an ambulance for you. You could bleed out.”
She sat up and grabbed the towel that had been hanging off the side of the pedestal sink. She pressed that to her wrist. “It’s a shallow cut,” she said. “I jerked away. The knife didn’t hit any arteries.”
But blood was spreading through the white terry cloth of the towel, turning it crimson.
He shook his head. “You’re hurt—”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Go—find him—before he gets away again.”
He hesitated for a moment. But she was right. The only way to keep her safe was to stop whoever was trying to hurt her. “Go upstairs and lock yourself into the bedroom with Blue,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He turned toward the door, but Emilia softly called his name. Had she changed her mind? Did she want an ambulance?
“Be careful,” she warned him, her pale blue eyes full of fear and concern.
He wasn’t certain which was the greater threat: the man with the knife or her.
* * *
“So you warned him...”
Manny clutched the dart instead of throwing it at the board on the barroom wall. He might need it to protect himself. Not that a dart would do much to ward off an attack from Lars Ecklund.
“Hey, man,” Cole Bentler greeted their friend. “Good to see you could join us for a drink. Thought you were too whipped to hang out with us guys now, though.”
If a woman could whip a man, it would be Nikki Payne. In fact, she’d knocked Lars on his ass a couple of times.
“I’m not here for a drink,” Lars said.
Manny groaned. He was in trouble. But hell, he wasn’t Dane. He wasn’t a vault when it came to keeping secrets. He turned toward his mammoth friend. “You didn’t tell me not to say anything to him.”
In fact he’d probably wanted Manny to pass along the threat. Or else he would have said something to Cole instead. Cole was like Dane; they were good at keeping stuff quiet. Cole Bentler had a whole secret life he never talked about, but that was probably because he didn’t want to think about everything he’d given up.
Manny was more like Dane. He’d never had anything but the Corps and his friends. And he didn’t want to lose any of them.
Cole chuckled. “You should have known better than to say anything to Manny if you really didn’t want it to get back to Dane. What the hell’s going on with you two anyway? He jealous that you proposed to someone else?”
That was how close Lars and Dane were—closer than the rest of them. That had to be why Lars felt so betrayed over Dane dating his sister.
Lars snorted. “Don’t be a smart-ass, Bentler.”
No. That was usually Dane’s job. He was the one who tossed out the hilarious one-liners with a straight face. That sick sense of humor had kept them from losing it during their especially tense missions.
It was tense now, too, though.
“Where is Dane?” Manny asked. They needed him.
“What?” Lars asked. “Do you think I tried to kill him again?”
“Again?” Cole asked, his voice cracking as all the amusement left his face. He pushed a slightly shaking hand through his dark blond hair. “What the hell’s wrong with you—you really tried to kill your best friend?”
“No,” Lars said. “But he thinks I did.”
“What happened?” Cole asked.
“Someone attacked him earlier as he was leaving his apartment.”
Manny squeezed his hand into a fist, and the dart jabbed into his palm. He cursed and dropped it. “I was with him then. I helped him finish packing.”
“Thanks,” Lars resentfully remarked.
“Are you sure he’s really moving in with your sister?” Cole asked. “You sure he isn’t just messing with you like he always does?”
Manny hadn’t even considered that. But then he’d seen the way Dane looked at Emilia Ecklund. He’d seemed fascinated with the blonde beauty.
“I mean—this is Dane,” Cole continued. “We’re not sure he even has a heart.”
A muscle twitched along Lars’s tightly clenched jaw. Cole wasn’t helping the situation. Nobody would want a heartless man involved with his sister.
“What happened earlier?” Manny asked. It must have occurred right after he’d left.
“Someone jumped him and beat the crap out of him,” Lars said.
“Was it you?” Manny asked.
Lars cursed him. But he didn’t specifically deny doing it.
Cole must have noticed that, too, because he silently studied his friend before remarking, “Sounds like that blanket party we threw you...”
“You guys didn’t beat the crap out of me.”
“How bad is he hurt?” Manny asked. Guilt churned up the one beer he’d had earlier, and he felt sick. He shouldn’t have left the warehouse earlier. But he hadn’t believed Dane was really in danger. He hadn’t thought Lars would actually hurt him.
“He’s Dane,” Lars said with pride. “He fought them off. He’s fine. Just going to have some bruises.”
“Them?” Cole repeated.
Lars nodded. “I called Nick Payne at the police department. He said the crime tech found at least four sets of footprints besides D
ane’s.”
Manny chuckled. He almost felt sorry for them. “If they really wanted to take out Dane, they needed more than four guys.”
“Yeah, they’ve learned that now,” Lars said.
“Who’s they?” Cole asked. “Who the hell could be after him?”
Lars caught them both staring at him and shook his head. “It wasn’t me.”
Manny believed him. “If not you, then who?”
“We’re not working any cases right now,” Cole said. “Except for some short protection assignments, we’ve not been involved in anything major since rescuing your sister from that slimy adoption lawyer.”
“And he’s dead,” Manny said.
He wasn’t surprised that Lars had killed the man who’d abducted his sister and stolen her baby. Of course, he’d done it to save Nikki’s life. But even if she hadn’t been in danger, Manny wouldn’t have been surprised if Myron Webber had wound up dead.
He hoped Dane wasn’t just messing with Lars’s sister. He hoped he really cared about her—like Lars cared about Nikki Payne.
But it wouldn’t matter how Dane felt about her if he didn’t survive.
In a deep whisper, Cole asked, “Could someone have found out where we are?”
“What?” Lars asked. “Who are you talking about?”
“From over there,” Cole replied. “Maybe there were survivors or vengeful family members...”
“They would have had to find out who we are first,” Manny said. “And those missions were top secret.”
Those were secrets even Manny wouldn’t divulge to anyone. If he did, it could cost them all their lives.
Lars uttered a ragged sigh. “It’s possible,” he said. “I’m going to marry a woman who can hack any computer database anywhere.”
And the government had security breaches all the time. That beer churned even more in Manny’s twisting gut. No matter the assurances they’d been given, it was possible. Someone could have found out what they’d done, the missions they’d carried out to defeat the enemy.
The enemy might want revenge.
