“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” He didn’t have time to explain and she was smart enough to know exactly what was happening. She just didn’t want it to be happening...and that made two of them. “Go upstairs and hide in the closet in my room. You’ll see an extra weapon in the box on the floor. The bullets are hidden in the opposite corner.”
“You keep a weapon in your closet just in case?”
All over the house, but now wasn’t the time to go into that. “Go, Makena. Stay in there unless you see or hear me or one of the other members of the team.”
“Right.”
He grabbed her before she could spin and run up the steps. His hand cupped the side of her face. “I’m serious. Do not be a hero here.”
Some of the haze cleared from her eyes and she nodded. “I get it.”
The thump of her feet against the stairs echoed as Shane put his back against the wall. He had a knife and two guns within easy grabbing range, and that was just counting what he carried on him. Other weapons sat, hidden, nearby. Whatever he had to do to keep the attackers from getting upstairs and to her, he would do.
After a soft click, the front door opened. That would trip the silent alarm and send a scramble code back to Corcoran headquarters. On cue, the phone started ringing, but Shane waited. Not answering would have Connor moving in reinforcements even faster.
The entire team could come. Shane didn’t care. He hoped to have the situation neutralized before then. One peek of a human and he’d shoot.
The crash of the glass from the back door shattering caught him by surprise. He ducked, unsure what had caused the break, a bullet or something else. When he lifted his head again, he spied the man stepping into his house. Shane came off the wall firing. The attacker’s shoulder flew back as if he’d been hit, but he kept coming.
They had Kevlar vests on and he didn’t, which put him at a distinct disadvantage. Shots rang out as he ducked. A second man came through the front. They had him pinned down and trapped. He couldn’t crawl away or bore through the wall. That meant going upstairs. Bringing the fight to her. He hated the idea, but he had to keep moving. Standing still guaranteed he’d be shot.
In a crouch, he spun around the railing and started up the stairs, firing covering shots as he went. A simple mantra kept running through his brain—aim for the head.
Plaster kicked up around him and more glass shattered. He reached the top of the stairs just as one of the attackers started up behind him. Shane ducked around the wall for protection and concentrated on the steps. The thudding sound grew closer. He waited until the last possible second, then shifted and fired. Nailed the attacker right in the head and sent him sprawling backward.
Shane’s breaths came out in steady pants as he scanned the downstairs, looking for the second attacker. The quiet hit him. The banging had stopped and nothing moved except for a curtain that caught the breeze from the broken window.
Too easy. They’d had him trapped and he got out. No way should that have happened without more bloodshed and a hail of bullets.
He heard a noise behind him in the bedroom and sneaked inside, gun up. His gaze went to the window. Nothing there. If the attacker had climbed in, he was hiding well. Too well.
The dark hair came first, sticking out around the corner leading to his bathroom and closet. Then Makena’s face appeared.
“Are you okay?”
Makena whispered the question, but it echoed in his head loud enough to sound like a scream. With a finger over his lips, he gestured toward the window. He had to get her out, and there was only one way down from here.
He opened the bench under the window and took out the rappelling gear and held it out to her. “Here.”
She stared at the rope and the carabiner, the locking mechanism that would secure her to the rope. “Are you kidding?”
“No.” He opened the blinds, careful to keep the noise to a minimum, and glanced over the windowsill. The night was still on the ground below. He could see everything thanks to the security light he’d set up.
But they were running out of time. A second gunman roamed the house, and gunfire would bring people running. The police had likely already been called. His cover would hold, but Makena being at a second shooting in only a few hours would raise alarms. She’d be questioned, and Shane could not tolerate the idea of her sitting in a police station where he couldn’t watch over her.
“We don’t have time to argue.” The rope was set up and ready to go, just in case. The sheer drop would be rough on him but impossible for her, so she needed the equipment.
He hooked the rope in position and slid it through the hooks that would hold it steady for her to climb down. They didn’t have time for a sling and instructions. She needed to move.
With one eye focused on the door, he opened the window and shifted her until she sat on the sill.
She shook her head and clamped a hand down on his forearm. “I can’t do this.”
“Makena—”
She shook her head and her teeth chattered. “It’s impossible.”
“You can do anything.” He glanced at her, quick but deadly serious. “You unmask liars as a hobby. You have more guts than most people I know.”
“But I—” Her voice cut off and she ducked as gunfire pinged through the room.
“Hand over hand.” He gave her a push. “Down, then run.”
Just as her body slid over the edge, he ducked behind the bed. He had limited ammo left but another gun within reach. He could cover her as long as necessary.
Shots rang out for a few more seconds, and then silence. Shane looked up, took in the ripped comforter and shards of glass all over the floor. Dark clothing flashed in the doorway, then footsteps thudded on the steps.
Makena.
Shane raced to the window. She stood at the bottom, staring up. He didn’t wait. With one hand on the rope, he dropped out of the window. He held his body weight steady for a second, descending at a rapid pace, then giving up and jumping the rest of the way.
He braced for impact. His knees took most of the brunt. He bit back a groan as he landed. That would hurt later, but he couldn’t worry about it now. Snagging her hand, he took off, racing through the open yard at the back of the property to get to the parking lot. There they could duck in between cars and wait.
Their sneakers scrunched in the grass, then tapped across the concrete. Through it all, he never let go of her hand. He tugged, trying to keep the pace doable. She surprised him with her speed. Never complained or questioned, either. The woman impressed him in every way.
They slid to a stop by a truck and bent down. Shane watched for feet as he sent the emergency signal to Cam. Connor could mobilize fast, but Cam tended to beat them all to a site. Shane was about to tell Makena how proud he was when he picked up the shadow. A man moving around the side of the building. He could go one of twenty ways, but he headed for them. Straight for them.
The attackers showing up at her house was one thing. People following them here was another. Impossible, actually. Shane knew subterfuge tactics. He could break a tail. But now this. It was as if they had a homing device in... He looked over his shoulder at Makena. A tracker. The first guy had planted one on her. Shane would bet on it.
He’d handle that, but first he had to take care of the newest threat. He wanted to take the guy alive. Bring him in and let the team question him. But then the guy prepared to fire, and Shane took him down. One shot to the head and he dropped.
But there could be more, so that meant one thing. He looked at Makena and tried to figure out the best way to say it. Then he just blurted it out.
“Strip.” Even in the dark he could see her eyes widen. “I can explain, but I need everything off.”
“Did you get hit in the head back there?”
Shane lifted his T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. “They’re following you.”
She took the shirt and held it up to her face. “So?”
She had his shirt balled in her fists. “What? Just say it.”
“Naked.”
She balanced on the balls of her feet and stared at him. For a few seconds she didn’t say anything. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Before he could answer—and he had no idea what he would have said—his cell beeped in his pocket. The noise and slight vibration made no sense until he remembered he’d already called for help.
When her fingers touched the bottom hem of her shirt, he turned away from her. Tried to block out the sound of clothes rustling and not think about what he would see if he looked over his shoulder.
He answered the phone instead. Talked before Cam could. “I need a cleanup crew at my house.”
“That’s the worst phrase ever.” Her voice sounded muffled.
Shane ignored every thought running through his brain. Tried to ignore the fact that Makena stood a few feet away without any clothes on. This moment amounted to both his fantasy and his nightmare all wrapped up in one. “Connor prefers that term.”
“And, of course, he knows people who do that work.”
Shane could hear the smile in her voice. Let the sound wash over him. Could stand there for hours except for Cam saying his name on the other end of the line.
That snapped Shane back into reality and got him talking to Cam. “Meet us at the safe house by Foster’s.”
Cam would know that meant the old mill once owned by the Foster family. They had three neutral places close by they could go to if any team member hit the scramble warning. Connor made sure they always had options. Tonight, like so many times in the past, Shane gave thanks for his boss’s compulsive tendencies and called the code for one of the safe houses.
“Is that code for something?” she asked.
This time Shane glanced over and immediately regretted it. The T-shirt hung down to her upper thighs. Not long enough to guarantee his peace of mind or prevent losing control.
The long legs, the way she curled her bare toes into the ground...he was a dead man. “And bring clothes for Makena.”
Chapter Six
Makena took a deep breath as she stood in the bathroom of the safe house. The one-bedroom cottage sat at the end of a long, dark road. From the outside it looked broken-down and in need of repair. A building with fading brown wood and a crooked front porch.
Inside told a different story. Just getting to the front door meant unlocking gates and deactivating alarms. Shane did it all using his watch, and then led them through the door. The cozy interior consisted of a small kitchen and living area with an L-shaped sectional sofa. One door led to the bedroom with the bathroom tucked inside. The other opened into what Shane called an SCIF, a sectioned-off room for receiving and reviewing sensitive information. To her it looked like a bare room with a desk, computer and safe, and no windows.
Smoothing down the borrowed T-shirt, the same one that skimmed over her, and the sweatpants that were too long and puddled on the floor around her feet, she guessed Julia had handed Cam the clothing but decided not to ask. Between the stripping and the kiss, Makena’s head still spun.
She stepped into the living area with a smile plastered on her face. Seeing Shane kicked up her heartbeat. Noticing Cam also sitting on the couch calmed her nerves a bit.
Cam looked up at her and smiled. “You look good.”
“It was either this or a towel.”
His smile deepened. “I’ll refrain from saying anything in response to that.”
“Good call.” Shane sounded anything but happy.
Cam leaned back into the couch cushions. “Hey, you’re the one to blame here.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Clearly Makena being with you is putting her in danger.” Cam frowned at Shane. “Why are you shaking your head?”
“Because you’re wrong about that.” Makena knew the back and forth could go on forever and decided to jump in. She walked farther into the room and took a seat at the very end of the couch. “This is about me, not Shane.”
“You’re saying that because of the note the first attacker carried?” Cam exhaled. “Yeah, I get that, but there has to be an explanation.”
“Yeah, someone is after her,” Shane said.
“Not possible.”
Shane nodded. “Totally possible.”
They were off again. Somehow she managed not to roll her eyes at the male byplay. As much as she wanted to keep her private life private, she knew that would no longer be possible. Her connection to the side business led to a whole new list of suspects. “I do some work for this website called Wall of Dishonor.”
Cam’s eyes widened. “The SEAL-outing one?”
She took in Cam’s show of interest and noted a bit of awe in his tone. The support came as a sharp contrast to Shane’s reaction. “You know it?”
“Of course. I check it out now and then, and silently curse the liars who have their photos posted.” Cam leaned forward with his elbows balanced on his knees. “You work there?”
“I do research and investigate. Corroborate the charges people lodge with the site about people lying about their service.” It was a simplistic explanation, but going into the details about requests from the government for information and all the calls and contacts with people who could confirm the stories, or not, would bore them.
Cam nodded. “Cool.”
“No, not cool,” Shane barked out.
In case she hoped he’d changed his position, he dashed that. “Shane thinks I’m being irresponsible.”
Cam looked at Shane. “Why? Those guys should be dragged out to face those who really did serve. Like you, for instance.”
“It’s dangerous,” Shane said in a growling voice.
Since he’d skipped over Cam’s point, she made one of her own. “So is driving.”
Not that it had any noticeable impact on Shane. He kept right on talking. “Do you think Holt would like knowing she’s doing this?”
“Is this really about Holt?” Cam almost whispered.
Exactly the question she wanted to ask. A man did not kiss like that, hold a woman with that sort of fierce grip, if he didn’t think about her. At least she hoped that was true. “I’ve always liked Cam best.”
Shane scoffed. “Get over it.”
“Holt is in love with, and planning to spend the rest of his life with, a woman who dedicated the last few years to helping people escape a cult involved in gunrunning. How could he get upset about his sister having the same sort of bravery?” Cam asked.
For the first time all day Makena felt lighter. Some of the tension dragging her down eased. Hearing Cam give Shane a hard time shifted life back into perspective for her. “Well, Shane?”
“It’s different when it’s your sister.” Shane shifted in his seat, and then did it again. For a man who rarely struggled with nerves, he seemed to be in a battle now.
Cam’s eyebrow lifted. “Makena isn’t your sister.”
“This conversation is over.” Shane emphasized his point by standing up. He walked into the kitchen.
She watched because she couldn’t not watch. Something about the lazy gait that was anything but. “Because he says so.”
Cam’s amusement hadn’t faded one bit. “Apparently.”
Just as quickly as he’d left, Shane returned to the living area with a pad of paper in his hand. He scribbled something with his left hand. “We need to look into Jeff Horvath and—”
Cam frowned. “Who?”
“One of the men she exposed.” Shane glanced up, but his expression stayed blank. “The same one who knows who she is and where she lives and followed us tonight.”
“So he’s behind all this?” Cam sounded doubtful.
“I’m not sure yet, but he’s angry.” Shane
lowered the pages in his hand. “Out of control.”
She bit her lip while she debated sharing the other part of the story. “He’s also a bit of a stalker.”
Shane’s gaze shot to Cam. “Do you see what I’m saying about her being in danger?”
“You’ve made your point.” And if he used the word danger one more time, her head might explode.
“I’ll need a list of names of the guys you exposed.” Shane flipped through the pages. “And the names of everyone you work with at the site. Work and personal contact information. The usual.”
Only in his world did any of this qualify as normal, but she had a bigger problem. “Why?”
Shane didn’t look up. “They could be in danger or part of the problem. We won’t know until we start digging.”
That was the problem. The idea of someone breaching Tyler Cowls’s privacy had anxiety jumping around inside her. He would hate it and she could lose her position. “There’s one guy, but he’s really secretive.”
Shane’s head shot up. “I don’t care.”
“What kind of answer is that?” Not the one she’d expected and not reasonable under the circumstances. At least not to her.
“What’s his name?” Shane asked, refusing to back down.
She tried a different approach. One even he couldn’t argue with, in theory. “Let me talk with him and—”
“It’s better not to tip him off, since we’re going to see him tomorrow.”
Apparently he could argue just fine. What a surprise. “Because you say so?”
“Yes.”
Cam groaned as he stood up. “On that note, I should head out.” He looked at Shane. “I need to talk with you for a second.”
* * *
SHANE SERIOUSLY CONSIDERED refusing to go out on the porch. He sensed some sort of man-to-man talk coming and wanted to avoid it. “What’s up?”
Cam leaned against the porch post and stared out into the darkness beyond. “You’re blowing this.”
“What are you talking about?” But Shane knew. He and Cam had talked about Makena before. All those years of thinking he hid his attraction proved wrong. Cam knew. He insisted they all knew, even Holt.
Tamed (Corcoran Team: Bulletproof Bachelors Book 3) Page 5
