Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Taking a deep breath, I shifted behind the fridge, grabbing the door handle with one hand to pull back for a small bit of cover, then using my other arm to push on the switch, bathing the room in light.
I had to blink at the change in brightness before I leaned out from behind the fridge door, taking aim, and shooting.
Three men.
There were three men in the house.
Were there more?
I could take down three.
But if more would be coming in through the other doors, I’d left Claire defenseless in the room with Judah, who would be waking up from the gunshots any time now.
Leading fucking Warren right to them.
No.
I couldn’t get lost in the maybes.
I had a problem right in front of me that I could solve.
With a bullet in each of their fucking heads.
I leaned back out, seeing one of the men slink into the pantry for cover, and another leaning in the doorway from the garage.
The third was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide behind the island.
None of them, I realized with a jolt, were Warren.
Where was he? Outside? Waiting for his guards to take me out, so he had a free path right to Claire and Judah.
Fucking coward.
Taking a deep breath, I aimed, exhaled, then pulled the trigger, watching as the man behind the island collapsed forward, blood tricking from his forehead onto the floor.
One down.
Two to go.
Then I could think about anyone else.
“Motherfucker!” the one in the garage raged, letting out a hail of bullets.
But he had to step out of the doorway to do that, sacrificing his safety for revenge.
I waited until I saw him step forward, then leaned out, and shot.
Once in the stomach, making him fold forward, then another to his chest, watching as he wobbled and fell.
Not dead immediately.
I could hear the gurgle of him choking on his blood for a moment before there was silence.
Two down.
Just the guy in the pantry to go.
Then I needed to get down the hall, get more bullets. In case this was just the first wave.
Maybe I could arm Claire.
No, she had no experience. But it didn’t take much to point and shoot. Especially at close range. She could do it. To save her son.
I inched along the cabinets, keeping as out of the other guy’s view as possible until the very last moment.
When I yanked open the door, and started shooting.
The adrenaline was getting replaced with relief as I was about to turn away from the third body.
When I heard it.
A gunshot.
Just a millisecond before I felt it.
Lodge into my back, the pain searing, nearly blinding.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Gritting my teeth, I turned.
And there he was.
Warren fucking Graves.
He looked worse for the wear. His skin was pale, the purple smudges under his eyes dangerously close to looking like black eyes.
Clearly, the man had been up obsessing while I’d been taking his ex joyfully to bed and helping raise his son.
His bitterness and rage made him ugly.
Not that it mattered what he looked like when he had a gun raised, finger on the trigger, ready to pull and put an end to me.
And an end to me meant an end to Claire. But not before he brutalized her first.
Sure, Judah would live. But what kind of life would that be? Without the only people who loved him just because, not for what he could do for them.
“Been waiting to be able to do this,” he said.
Then, before I could raise my gun to shoot, out of fucking nowhere, Claire came running out, full force, throwing her entire body into Warren.
“No!” she shrieked.
I watched in slow motion as Warren started to fall.
But not before his finger pulled the trigger one more time.
Missing his mark.
But landing just the same.
Lodging in me.
Shoulder?
Neck?
I couldn’t even be sure, the pain was so acute, so overpowering, taking over the area from my chest up.
“No!” Claire screamed again as the impact, or the shock, my brain wasn’t working quite right at that moment, had me falling to my knees, then dropping onto my ass on the floor.
“No no no no no!” she cried as she went to war with her ex.
I was in and out of consciousness then, and the moments awake felt like a fever dream, my thoughts thick and slow, not making much sense.
Until, suddenly, something did.
The men had been inside.
But the house had been silent.
There was no beeping.
The alarm hadn’t sounded.
So, either someone had figured out the code—a feat the expert who’d installed the system assured us was damn near impossible.
Or…
Or someone had let them in.
If Claire had made her way all the way into the kitchen without encountering someone else, then there likely weren’t any other guards around.
Except, of course, ours.
Mine.
A growl escaped me.
And, suddenly, I was moving.
Half crawling, half dragging myself across the kitchen, then down the hall.
Sweat beaded my brow, poured down my back, yet I felt almost intolerably cold as I threw myself in front of Judah’s closed door, hearing the comforting—given the situation—sound of his cries within, knowing there was no way in.