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“You’re alive,” she whispered. She started to reach for him but stopped.
He grabbed her elbow anyway, but only to help her stay upright. “I’m fine. You okay?”
Worry stained her gaze. “What’s going on? I thought...I thought you’d been shot. I heard...” She didn’t finish her thought.
His heart tugged with compassion, but he shoved those emotions aside. Right now there was only room for one thing—logic. Emotions would only lead him astray. “I don’t know what happened out there. It’s been quiet now for ten minutes. I don’t want to take the chance that they’re still out there trying to wait us out. We should lay low for a little while longer.”
She nodded quickly. Christopher wanted to sit beside her, to offer her some comfort and put her mind at rest. He wished that he could distract her with chitchat—do something to keep her mind off the matters at hand. But he couldn’t. Instead, he stood by the bathroom door, still gripping that pipe. The last thing he wanted was for someone to catch him off guard.
Ashley showing up today had already filled his quota on that for a lifetime.
* * *
Ashley pulled her knees to her chest, hating feeling so helpless, hating that she’d gotten Christopher into this mess. Her anxiety had her feeling nauseous and jittery. So she just kept praying the same prayers over and over again. Lord, help us. Help David and Josh.
Then there had been her crazy worry over Christopher. She’d heard that gunshot—it had sounded so close—and she was sure he’d been hit. All she could think about were the many unfinished conversations they needed to have. She needed to have.
Which caused another swell of anxiety to rise in her.
The strangest comfort filled her when she saw the pure determination on Christopher’s face as he stood in the doorway. He’d always been tough and protective. They were two of the things she’d loved about him at one time. She couldn’t imagine feeling safer around anyone. But feeling physically safe was entirely different from feeling emotionally safe.
Christopher had made it clear when he left that she wasn’t important to him. She obviously hadn’t captured his heart enough for him to try and make their relationship work. No, true love hadn’t conquered all. Or they hadn’t had true love. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
She wondered if he’d found his perfect woman yet, the one he would do anything to be with. That person was not her. Despite that, she knew that Christopher would give his life for her, whether she was his fiancée or just someone from his past.
She understood what it was like to feel protective of someone. Without a second thought, she would take a bullet for her nephew. Whenever they were together, it seemed like she was trying to protect him from something—viruses, bullies, drivers who weren’t paying attention. She tried to protect him from other things, too, things like the heartbreak of losing his mom and loneliness from a father who worked too much.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to protect him now. Her heart squeezed with pain.
Minutes ticked by. Just what was going on outside? Had the shooters given up? That just didn’t seem likely. But why else would they leave? Or had they?
She hugged her knees tighter.
Lord, help us. Help David and Josh.
“I’m going to go down and check things out.” Christopher’s voice pulled her from her heavy thoughts.
New alarm spread through her. She straightened, forcing herself not to grab him. “But what if they’re still there?”
His jaw flexed. “I haven’t heard a sound in a half hour.”
“But—”
“I’ll be careful, Ashley. I’ve been in hostile situations before. I can handle myself.”
She stared at him a moment, knowing that his mind was equally as strong and tough as his well-defined muscles and quick reflexes. She had to trust him. What other choice did she have? Finally, she nodded.
She wanted to blurt out everything on her mind before he walked to his possible death.
Just in case you never come back, I thought you should know that I found out a month after we broke up that I was pregnant with your child. My brother adopted the baby, and his name is David. I’ve been wanting to tell you for years...
She sucked on her bottom lip.
It’s your son who was snatched today.
How exactly did someone tell her ex-fiancé that?
How did she tell him that back when they’d been young and foolish, that one night of passion had turned into a baby? The sweetest little baby that Ashley had ever laid eyes on. Giving him up for adoption had been the most gut-wrenching thing she’d ever done. But she couldn’t provide for a baby. Not only had she been in college and without a job or the ability to get a job that paid more than minimum wage, but then there was the car accident that happened when David was only two months old. Ashley had spent six months in the hospital, and she’d had months of physical therapy after that. Her brother and his wife had been so desperate for a child and she’d been unable to take care of little David. They’d adopted him before his first birthday.
That’s why she knew Christopher was the only person who could help her right now. This was his son.
Everything that she’d tried so carefully to control was slipping away. She couldn’t protect David. She couldn’t keep Christopher at a distance. She would have to face her fears and eventually tell Christopher the truth. The walls she’d so carefully constructed were coming down fast.
She sucked in a long, deep breath. Silence surrounded her again. Was Christopher okay? She’d heard nothing since he left.
At least nothing meant no gunfire, either. Right?
How long did she wait before checking on him? She glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes. That was as long as she could possibly stand it. What if he was bleeding and hurt? What if he needed her help? She’d sent him into a battle that wasn’t his to fight.
She let her head fall back against the cold tile wall. All was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The silence was driving her mad.
She stood and began pacing the small space. Maybe she could go to the window and peer out. She could be quick and quiet.
It beat sitting here and doing nothing.
Before she could second-guess herself, she twisted the doorknob. Slowly, she pushed the door open. Her gaze roamed the space there. Everything looked the same. No figures lurked in the shadows...she didn’t think, at least.
She took her first step out, every cell of her body alert and ready to pounce into action. Slowly, she tiptoed across the floor to the window, not relaxing for even a second. Would someone jump out at her? Were they lying in wait?
She ducked low under the window and carefully raised her head to peer out. She flinched when she saw all of the windows in Christopher’s house had been shattered. Christmas wreathes that had once graced the glass panes now lay like corpses on the deck and in the flower beds.
She watched for a sign of movement, but saw nothing. Where was Christopher? What was taking him so long?
She crawled across the floor to the closet. Was there anything left in here she could use as a weapon? She spotted a vacuum, some old coats and a wooden bar full of clothes hangers that stretched across the top. It would have to do. She stood and wedged the bar from its holders. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something.
Doubt filled her as she crept toward the door. She shouldn’t do this. But she had to. If they were going to shoot her, they would shoot her. But if they were gone and Christopher needed help, then she had to get downstairs.
Stark fear gripped her as she opened the door. She listened. Nothing except the wind blowing some stray leaves across the ground. Her heart leaped into her throat when she saw blood across the wooden landing at her feet.
Blood? Whose blood? What had happened? She followed the trail all the way to the bottom. Someone had been shot up here and then dragged back down. Terror rose in her.
She couldn’t turn back now. If she let fear dictate what she did, she might be in the bathroom for days, afraid to leave. But each step down the stairs felt like a step closer to her death.
Be strong, Ashley. You can do this. She’d never been a quitter. Not even when she gave David up for adoption. No, she’d simply been giving him the opportunity for a better life—a life that she could still be a part of.
But if she hadn’t given him up for adoption, would he be in this situation now? Regret squeezed her heart again. She couldn’t think like that. Not now.
She continued her descent. Everything remained silent. She gripped the wooden rod like a baseball bat, wishing it would protect her from bullets.
At the bottom of the stairs, she saw that the blood trail ended at the edge of the deck. Whoever had been shot had been dragged onto the grass. Into the woods? She couldn’t be sure.
She swung her head back up, soaking in her surroundings. She had to pay attention. Her life depended on it.
The back door of Christopher’s house was wide open. She paused at the corner of the garage and slowly peered around. Nothing. No one. As quickly as possible, she darted across the deck. She stopped at the doorway.
With baited breath, she raked her gaze across the inside. Lots of broken glass. A splintered coffee table. The Christmas tree lay wounded on its side.
But no one was in sight. Not even Christopher.
Certainly he hadn’t abandoned her. Not again.
She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t do that. Not in this situation.
Still, doubt trickled down her spine. Trust was such a fragile, fickle thing at times.
She stepped inside. Glass crunched at her feet. She froze, waiting for the telltale sound that someone had heard her.
Nothing.
Slowly, carefully, she crept forward. She kept her back to the wall. Her breathing sounded so heavy in her own ears that she wondered if she’d even hear someone sneak up on her.
When she heard a noise upstairs, she knew she would.
Someone was in the house. Had that person killed Christopher, dragged his body into the woods and gone back upstairs to check for her?
Just then, the stairs creaked. Someone was coming down. Coming toward her.
She glanced around, desperate for a place to hide. Instead, she pressed herself into the wall.
When the intruder got to the bottom of the steps, she would swing the stick and hit him.
And she’d pray that her hit would knock him out.
But before she had a chance to swing, a gun cocked behind her, and the fear that was becoming all too familiar froze her blood—again.
FOUR
Christopher approached the intruder from behind, veering off the main staircase at the last minute and taking a second set of stairs on the other end of the house. There was still one person in the house. Just one, best he could tell.
It was dark, void of any light. The air was hazy, evidence of a smoke bomb. And the smell of ammunition hung heavy in the atmosphere.
The sounds, the smells...they all reminded him of another time, another place.
A time and place he was trying to forget.
He rounded the corner and spotted someone crouching beneath the first staircase. Crouching, ready to attack?
He cocked his gun, drawing on all of his training. It was time to get some answers.
“Don’t move,” he commanded. “Or I’ll shoot.”
The figure twirled around, a stick in hand. Wide, familiar eyes met his. Fear stretched across their depths.
His muscles relaxed a moment, but the relief was quickly replaced with agitation. “Ashley? Are you crazy? I told you stay in the garage!”
“Christopher?” Ashley blinked, her stick still hoisted over her shoulder as if she might swing.
He lowered his gun and glared at the woman in front of him. Even in the dark, Christopher could tell that her face was void of any color or life. “Yes, it’s me. It’s a good thing I didn’t shoot you. I heard the glass crunching downstairs and thought the men were back to finish the job.”
“I saw the blood on the stairs. I thought you were...dead. I...”
He raised an eyebrow. “You were coming to defeat the bad guys with a dowel rod?”
She shrugged. “I had to do something. I couldn’t stay up there forever.”
He stepped closer so she would be sure to see the irritation in his gaze. “I told you I’d be back.”
She didn’t look away. She was still as stubborn as ever. “You’ve been gone for hours.”
“Twenty minutes.” He sliced his hand through the air. “Twenty minutes is all.”
She frowned and lowered her stick before jutting out her chin again. “It felt like hours.”
He scowled again and ran a hand over his face as he dragged in a ragged breath. Images of war continued to beat at him. They tried to transport him back in time. He wouldn’t let them. Still, Ashley coming up on him like that could have been ugly. Really ugly. That was the second time he’d pulled a gun on her in less than four hours. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, strain pulling at each of her features. “I’m fine. Are the men gone?”
“Best I can tell. They messed this place up, didn’t they?” His gaze roamed around them. It looked like a massacre, only thankfully, the only casualties were his furniture, belongings and the house itself.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I should have never come.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is just stuff. It can be fixed. Besides, you weren’t the one with the gun.”
Big, luminous eyes looked up to meet his. “Who was? Who were those men?”
He looked away before he got lost in the depths of those baby blues and shook his head. “I have no idea. But they mean serious business.”
“Why’d they leave?”
“That’s what I want to know, also. They didn’t do all of this damage just to send a message. They used a smoke bomb and everything. They came here to kill us. I want to know why they left before finishing the job.”
“And where did the blood come from by the garage?”
“Another great question.” He put his hand on her back. “I know one thing. We’re getting out of here before they decide to come back. I called Eyes and they’re sending some men out. They should be here any minute, but we’re not waiting around.”
“Where are we going?”
“I have an idea.” He led her toward the front door.
