Shelter from the Storm (Finley Creek Book 2)

by Calle J. Brookes

  HE jerked from his chair the instant he heard the scream. Heard his name.

  Chance rushed through the door, his brother on his heels. He saw the man on the floor the instant he stepped outside the conference room.

  “Go! They can deal with McKellen!” Elliot yelled. Chance barely heard him, as he leapt over McKellen’s body.

  Where was Brynna?

  Chance was already running down the hall. If someone had taken her in the two seconds she’d been out of his sight, then they were going to try to get her out of the hotel without her making a fuss.

  Brynna would make a fuss. He had no doubt about that.

  He headed for the stairwell. If he was nabbing a woman out of a hotel, he wouldn’t wait around for an elevator.

  He got lucky.

  Chance caught a glimpse of carrot hair four flights of steps beneath him. “Brynna!”

  “Chance! Help me!”

  “I’m coming!”

  The first bullet ricocheted off the handrail two inches from his stomach. Chance kept going.

  Elliot was right behind him.

  CHAPTER NINETY-NINE.

  * * *

  BRYNNA knocked the hand holding the gun with her free hand. He wasn’t going to hurt Chance. He wasn’t. Not if she could stop him.

  He backhanded her with his gun hand. Brynna would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her with his other hand. “Stupid bitch. Nothing but trouble.”

  She tried to claw at his face. He raised his hand to hit her again, but changed his mind. Raymund yanked her back to her feet.

  He dragged her through the doors and into the lobby. “Make a sound and I shoot you now. And that sister you have in the lobby. The crippled one. Think she’ll be able to run away from me?” He laughed. That was what terrified her the most. She hadn’t known Mel was downstairs. Was he lying? What if he wasn’t? Mel wouldn’t be able to escape a gun. “Come on. Move. Before I decide to knock off the boyfriend once and for all. Damned Marshalls. I told Golden Boy we needed to take them out years ago.”

  He dragged her behind him until they reached the main portion of the lobby.

  Chance was right behind them.

  Raymund picked up speed.

  Chance yelled.

  People turned and stared. Screamed.

  Mel. Mel and Jilly and Lacy were right there in the lobby, sixty feet away. Their dad was there next to them. Her family. Mel struggled to her feet, yelling Brynna’s name.

  “No, Mel! Stay away! He said he’ll shoot you!” Brynna yelled it as loud as she could, praying her dad at least would understand. Would keep Mel safe.

  Raymund cursed and swung her around. People screamed everywhere.

  Everything froze. Brynna’s eyes met Mel’s. Her sister was trying to move closer.

  To save and protect. Like Mel always did.

  Chance was behind her. Raymund yanked her to the side, where he could see both her sister and Chance.

  “Over there, Marshall. Where I can see you. Or I give your girlfriend another hole in her head.”

  “You have to know that we’ll stop you.”

  Raymund laughed, his mouth right by her ear. Brynna tried not to puke. Her free hand went over her stomach. Her baby. She looked at Chance.

  “Chance…”

  “It’s ok, Bryn. We’ll all be ok.”

  Raymund snorted. “Think so, Marshall? Think this shit is over? I have been after this bitch from the moment she kicked me in the balls. Have a score to settle.”

  “She was protecting herself, Raymund. How can you be angry with someone doing that?” Chance asked. He wasn’t moving, but he had his gun raised.

  There were people around. But they were moving. Brynna looked around quickly.

  Mel was standing still. Their father was holding her back, his body in front of hers. Protecting her. Their dad would take care of Mel, wouldn’t he?

  But who would take care of Chance? If she died today, what would it do to him?

  “I love you.” Brynna looked right at him. She’d never told him, had she? Why hadn’t she told him that this morning? “I love you. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other. I love you.”

  He looked at her quickly. “I know. I love you, too, babe. Once this is over I’m going to show you just exactly how much, ok?”

  Raymund grabbed her hair. Brynna cried out when he pulled her head back. “Isn’t that sweet? She’s not getting out of here alive, Marshall. Say good-bye now.”

  “You’re not getting out of here alive. I can promise you that.” Chance’s words turned cold. “I’m going to take that knife you used on her and use it to filet every inch of your body. While you scream. You touched her. And for that you will pay.”

  “Think so? I can crush her with my bare hands. She’s nothing. Wouldn’t take much to break her neck, one handed. All I have to do is this…”

  Raymund’s hand squeezed her neck, cutting off her air.

  Brynna lost the battle with the panic gnawing on her mind.

  She went limp and fell against the man holding her as blackness overwhelmed her.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED.

  * * *

  HOUGHTON was too damned far away to grab his wife and get her safe. But he was going to damn well try. He moved around the lobby, his focus intent not on the man holding Brynna, but on Melody.

  Her father was there, bodily between her and the action. Where Houghton should be.

  “Nobody move!” the guy yelled. Houghton looked at him. “Anyone moves and I take out every damned woman I see!”

  He arched the gun in front of him for a second, lingering with it pointed toward the Becks. Toward Melody.

  Houghton froze, as did everyone else in the lobby. Kevin stepped in front of Melody more fully, earning Houghton’s undying loyalty in that moment. Dr. McGareth and Jillian were on the floor behind one of the large couches, two of Houghton’s security team covering them bodily. They were as safe as they could be at the moment.

  But Brynna…the girl had fallen to the ground, right between Marshall and the bastard. Was she conscious?

  Marshall jumped over Brynna and put his body between hers and the gun.

  Brynna shifted, rolling to her back. She wasn’t fully conscious, was she? Had she fainted?

  What Mel had told him that morning when they’d argued about her coming to the hearing ran through his mind. Her sister was pregnant. Pregnant women fainted a lot, didn’t they?

  Houghton didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know anything about pregnant women. But what did it matter?

  She was too damned close to what was happening. If she rolled once more, the bastard could reach down and grab her.

  Use her again.

  Houghton changed paths. He went toward his sister-in-law instead.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE.

  * * *

  CHANCE grunted as Raymund slammed his fist into his face.

  He had to get to that gun, before Raymund pulled the trigger. Brynna’s fainting had precipitated a direct attack. Chance knew the odds he faced. Someone was about to get hurt.

  He’d make sure it was him, rather than Brynna.

  Raymund held the upper hand and they both knew it.

  There were far too many innocent people around. That put the ball in the psychopath’s court.

  Brynna was on the floor behind him, too damned close to Raymund for Chance’s peace of mind. Chance had holstered his own weapon the instant Brynna had fallen to the floor.

  He’d known what the odds were and what he’d have to do.

  One man against a killer with a gun.

  But he wasn’t one man, was he?

  No.

  He had Kevin Beck, and he had Elliot. No doubt the two were also armed.

  They could take the shot. All he had to do was get Brynna out of the way. And anyone else the bastard could hurt.

  He risked a look over his shoulder.

  Brynna wasn’t where he expected her to be. His surprise
cost him. Raymund aimed a blow that would have broken his neck if Chance hadn’t rolled at the last minute.

  He caught a glimpse of carrot hair and a big man in a dark suit.

  Raymund snarled.

  He had about fifty pounds of solid muscle on Chance. Was filled with rage and desperation. And hatred.

  Raymund rolled, bringing the gun up.

  Chance made a desperate grab for it, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get to it in time.

  Raymund fired.

  Fire bloomed along Chance’s arm.

  People screamed.

  Brynna screamed.

  “Chance! Down now!” Elliot yelled.

  Chance listened to his brother. He hit the floor, fast.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO.

  * * *

  CHUCK knew he wasn’t going to come out of this and as the bullet tore through him, rage followed in its path. Those damned Becks; they’d been ruining things for him for thirty-six years.

  He’d hated that damned Kevin Beck since the night the sanctimonious bastard had arrested him after his first girl.

  It was all Beck’s fault; all of it. The bastard had been fucking up everything for decades. Why should his daughters be any different?

  Chuck saw Beck, knew he was one of the ones with a damned gun. Hell, it was probably Beck who’d shot him.

  He considered, in that quarter-second when he still had a chance, taking out Beck once and for all. Making things easier for Golden Boy and the others. But fuck them! They’d led him to this and he knew it. Didn’t see them getting their hands dirty, following the Becks around. Beating the shit out of that blonde friend of theirs. Chuck had seen her in the lobby next to the nurse, too.

  Damn, if he’d only had another day with them, he’d get one of those girls for his own.

  He’d never have a girl of his own again. Never.

  The rage consumed him. He’d never have a girl of his own; but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take out one of theirs with him.

  He looked for her, that damned little orange-haired bitch. He found her.

  The damned billionaire’s boy was pulling her away.

  Well. That cinched it. There would be a double sort of revenge, wouldn’t it?

  Billionaire loved that son of his more than anything.

  Chuck pulled up the gun and fired.

  Barratt and the orange-haired girl went down.

  Another weapon fired somewhere and flame burned through his shoulder.

  Chuck hit the ground for the last time as they wrestled his gun away. As hard hands turned him over and cuffed him.

  They had him. It was over.

  For the first time in a long time, Chuck had lost.

  He looked at the orange-haired girl.

  She was yelling, but didn’t appear hurt too badly.

  She was going to be fine; she’d won. For the first time, one of his girls had managed to get away from him before the end.

  It was over for him, and he knew it.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE.

  * * *

  THE blast of multiple weapons being fired echoed through the lobby.

  Raymund went down, his gun three feet away. Chance kicked out his foot, sending the weapon even farther away.

  Toward Kevin.

  The older man kept his own weapon trained on Raymund, who was screaming and writhing on the marble-tiled floor. Mel bent down and grabbed the gun, securing it quickly.

  Chance heard sirens outside.

  He looked at his brother—Elliot had his weapon trained on Raymund, as well.

  He and Kevin would handle Raymund. Chance was done.

  His family needed him.

  Chance looked for carrot hair.

  All he saw was red.

  “Brynna!”

  * * *

  SHE knew she’d been shot. Brynna knew it, but apparently everything she’d gone through in the last few weeks had inured her to being more accepting of physical injury.

  It was the man over her who concerned her most.

  When she’d opened her eyes, she’d looked right into dark brown ones. Houghton had lifted her to her feet and tried to pull her away from Charles Raymund.

  Charles Raymund and Chance.

  She’d just looked over her shoulder when Elliot had yelled. When guns had gone off.

  Houghton had wrapped his body around hers and took them both to the floor. He’d covered her head with his arm.

  She’d never forget how he’d jerked against her. How his blood had felt burning as it flowed over her arm and chest.

  At first she’d thought the blood was all his. But the bullet had brushed against her arm after it had left his body.

  She had her hands on her brother-in-law’s shoulder, applying pressure to the injury. He needed a doctor, didn’t he?

  “Mel! Get over here now!” Brynna yelled. “Lacy! We need a doctor now! Now! Now!”

  “Hey, little sister. I’m ok. Were you hit?” Houghton smiled at her, but he was so pale.

  “I think it grazed me. But you’re really bleeding.” Brynna kept her hands in place when people suddenly surrounded them.

  “Let me through!” she heard Mel’s voice. Heard the fear. Then Mel was there, Lacy beside her.

  “Bryn, keep your hands right there, ok?” Lacy said. “Elliot’s ordering an ambulance.”

  “Bryn, how bad are you hurt?” Mel asked, as she knelt down beside them. Her words were for Brynna, but she was looking at Houghton.

  “It just grazed me. It’s his blood. Houghton’s.”

  Mel looked at the blood and paled. “Houghton…”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Remember me? Your husband? Don’t worry, little one, I’m not going to die and make you the richest woman in Texas for a while yet.” He grinned again then grimaced. “You’ll have years with me before that happens.”

  Mel wrapped her hand around his. “You idiot.”

  “Hey, I resemble that remark. Is the other guy dead?”

  “Not dead. But he looks worse off than you do,” Lacy said. “Can’t say I care. That’s the guy who worked me over. In fact, I think I’d rather just let him bleed out over there. Unless the ambulance gets here first. Ok, Bryn, you pull your hands back and let me take a look at Super Boy here.”

  Brynna leaned back. Mel slipped behind Houghton and he rested his head on her sister’s shoulder. “I’ll live, right, doc?”

  “Hell, I think you may just need stitches. Went right through here, and came out the back. Hit the fatty area. It might sting for a few days. Cover it if you take a shower. Now, that will be sixty thousand dollars to the receptionist on your way out. And I’ll get you a sucker and sticker for being such a good boy.”

  Houghton looked up at Mel. “I think I like her. Can we adopt her?”

  “Ha ha. Lacy, is he seriously going to be ok?” Mel asked.

  “He’ll be just fine. We’ll just keep pressure here until the ambulance arrives. And on his back.” She handed Mel something. Brynna took a close look at it. The table runner? Jilly passed another one to Lacy, who held it on Houghton’s shoulder.

  Then Jilly turned toward Brynna. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Just here.” She pulled up what was left of her shirt sleeve. “It’s not much.”

  “You’re still going back to the hospital,” Mel said.

  “She is.” A voice came from behind them all.

  Brynna turned and there he was. She stumbled to her feet. “Chance!”

  She had been afraid to look at him before. Afraid he would be gone, just disappear. Like he hadn’t really been there. And she’d been so focused on Houghton, on making sure he wasn’t going to die, to even think in the few moments since Houghton had been shot.

  Chance wrapped his arms around her. “Bryn. How’s Barratt?”

  “He’ll live,” Lacy said. “Will have an interesting scar to show the ladies, if Mel lets him.”

  The paramedics were there. They tended to Houghton, after listening to Lacy giv
e them orders. Then they came to her. It took them all of five minutes to clean the wound and put on a bandage.

  She didn’t even require stitches.

  “Most likely you were hit by a piece of tile that ricocheted,” Chance said. He hadn’t let go of her, not for a moment.

  “I’m ok. Where he hit me hurts worse.” She touched her cheek. It was definitely going to bruise, wasn’t it? She looked over at where Houghton was. They had him on a gurney, even though he was protesting.

  When Houghton Barratt protested people listened, though. The paramedics paused for a moment. He hooked the arm on the side that wasn’t injured around her sister’s waist and lifted Mel, right onto his lap. “My wife goes with me.”

  “Houghton!” Mel gasped and tried to keep herself from falling off the gurney.

  “Go with him, Mel,” Kevin said, helping Mel down. “We’ll see you at home.”

  “Brynna needs to be looked at,” Mel said firmly. She looked at Chance. “Soon.”

  He nodded. “She will be. I’ll drive her to one myself.”

  “Good.”

  With that, Mel followed the paramedics outside.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR.

  * * *

  CHANCE turned Brynna around and studied her. Her cheek was swelling. “He hit you hard.”

  “Yes. But nothing is broken. I’m ok.”

  He slipped his hand down to her stomach. “We need to get you and the baby checked out as soon as possible.”

  “Baby!” The word came from several different directions. Chance looked at Brynna’s father and winced.

  He was thirty-four years old. A woman’s father shouldn’t be able to make him feel like a seventeen-year-old caught in the girl’s bedroom.

  Brynna’s hand covered his. She raised that stubborn little chin of hers and looked her father straight on. “I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. At the end of June.”