Page 49 of Edge of Danger

Somebody would be sent to cover the back when nobody had come running out of the front—Brax was sure of it, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard a heavy tread coming their way from the side of the house. Brax pushed Tessa toward the trees. “Go!” he whispered. She darted off.

He turned and crouched behind a massive smoker that had provided the food for so many raucous gatherings, praying that Walker didn’t choose this moment to become raucous himself.

Nobody was going to hurt his family.

He waited, hardly daring to breathe, gun at the ready. A tall, heavyset man rounded the corner with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth like he was taking a walk in the park. A Sunday stroll.

Brax used this to his advantage, waiting for the man to pass him before hitting him across the back of the head with the butt of his gun. The man crumpled at Brax’s feet.

There was no one with him. No one following close behind. Everybody was out front waiting in that car.

For a split second, Brax was torn. Part of him wanted to make this goon—and all of the goons waiting in the car—pay for threatening his family, but the bigger part urged him to run for the trees so he could be with Tessa and the baby. They were too vulnerable out there, even while hiding.

The goons or Tessa and Walker?

Tessa and Walker of course. “Tessa?” he whispered once he was close enough to risk speaking.

“Over here.” He could just make out the sound of her voice. “He’s sleeping.”

Tessa crouched between a pair of thick tree trunks, so hidden in the deep shadows he almost tripped over her before realizing she was there.

He squatted next to her and wrapped his arms around them both. “You okay?”

“Fine.” The trembling he felt under his hands told a different story. She was still terrified.

Smoke billowed from the house now, drifting out through the broken window. Another window shattered as the flames grew. He hated thinking of what was happening to his home, but what truly mattered was with him in his arms.

They were his, both of them, and he would die if it meant keeping them safe.

He stiffened at the sight of the unconscious man stirring, working his way to his knees. “Shh,” he hissed into Tessa’s ear. A glance at Walker showed he was fast asleep now that he’d eaten.

A second man came around from the other side of the house. “Hey, what are you doing?” His voice carried toward them as he helped his buddy up.

“...hit me...don’t know where he went...” The guy sounded confused, dazed. He was lucky. Brax would’ve liked to have done a lot worse to him—to both of those thugs.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to Tessa, his arms tightening around her and the baby. “We’re safe. They can’t hurt us.”

She nodded then buried her face into his neck. It was better that way. For her to hide her eyes and pretend none of this was happening. Otherwise, the baby might sense her agitation, and there was no telling how long their safety would last once he started screaming.

Sirens wailing in the distance calmed most of Brax’s anxiety. Beyond the house, he could make out the faint glow of the red lights on top of the fire trucks. The men froze for a second before taking off. It was the first smart thing they’d done all night.

When they were out of sight, Brax breathed a little easier, but there was no way he was going to lead Tessa and Walker out into the open before he knew with absolute certainty that they were safe. Which meant waiting and watching and listening.

It wasn’t until Weston and Luke appeared that he stood, helping Tessa to her feet. “We’re here!” he called out to them.

Seeing his brothers chased away the last of his apprehension. It also brought the grim realization that he could have lost Tessa and Walker. Now that he could think straight, now that their safety was assured, he could afford to think about what might have happened.

What if they’d all been upstairs asleep when the Molotov cocktail had come through the window? What if Tessa had been in the kitchen alone with Walker, fixing his bottle? Would she have panicked and run out the front door?

So many what-ifs bombarded him, it was a relief to be distracted by the pair of officers looking for answers.

He told them everything he could. He described both men he’d seen behind the house and what little he had been able to make out of the car that had been parked on the dirt road.

“What reason would anyone have to attack you and your family, Mr. Patterson?” one officer asked.

His family. That was what they were. He didn’t bother correcting the officer who’d asked.

“I’m scheduled to be the prime witness against Prince Riviera and his cartel,” he explained. “District Attorney Morgan will tell you all about it if you give her a call. Riviera and his men ran me off the road two nights ago.” He pulled up his shirt to show them his chest.

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