Page 66 of Hidden Depths

“You’re trying to sugarcoat it, but I’m the one who has to say goodbye to everyone and everything that means something to me. I’ve been dream-walking for so long, but I’m awake now, and I want to fight back. I’m sorry that I’m making this so difficult for you, but it’s the way I feel.”

He took her hand. “I can understand that. I’m sure I’d feel the same if I was in your position. But now’s not the time. You’re not trained for this type of situation. Let me handle this one for you. Please. I’m qualified to carry that load. You know I want to get these guys.”

“I know you do. And I know you’ll do everything that’s possible to make that happen, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get them. It doesn’t mean that they’ll go to prison, and I won’t have to hide any longer.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

“But I still have to go.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll leave here, and find somewhere, and I’ll start over.”

“And you’ll live your life. No matter where you are. You’ll live a full life. You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Not everything.”

Tom’s eyes dipped to the floor. “God’s already done so much for you. He’ll keep doing that. He still has so much waiting for you, no matter where you go.”

“But I don’t...”

When her words trailed off, he pulled her closer without meaning to. “You don’t what?”

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” she whispered as she leaned toward him.

“Neither do—”

It only took a split second for Tom to react to the sound of the door splintering, but Sara still beat him to it. Maybe it was the years that fear had trained her that made her reaction time faster than his, but Tom was the one who acted. He dragged her to the floor as the door collapsed inward and multiple shots were fired into the room.

Chapter17

As Tom hauledSara to the floor, she somehow managed to swipe a small vase from the coffee table, nearly dropping it when she slammed into Tom’s body.

Before he could roll over on top of her, she threw the vase at the intruder with incredible accuracy. She would have been impressed with herself if she’d had any time to reflect, but Tom recognized the opportunity as the man dodged the projectile and pulled Sara around to the far end of the couch before he slipped up the side and leapt toward the man, thrusting his arm into the air as another round was fired.

Sara scrambled to find a weapon, lifting a small book first in her panic but quickly discarding it before she ran to the kitchen with one thought. It was the only weapon she’d ever had to ease her fear for five years.

Ripping drawers open, it didn’t take long before she found a broad steak knife that she held in front of her, letting it point the way as she returned to the melee.

The two men had crashed into the wall, and Sara, frantic to both help and avoid getting in the path of any bullets, weaved her way closer, looking for an arm or a leg she could stab, but before she reached them, the gun went off again.

She jumped, grabbing for her stomach in anticipation of a wound, but someone else grunted, and both Tom and the intruder fell to the ground.

“Tom! No!”

She forgot about safety and bounded toward them, ready to fight.

Please, please, pleasewas all she could pray as she hurried around the couch, where she found Tom struggling under the weight of the now-dead man. She let out a choked breath as she helped pull him off.

“Dutch,” she whispered, knowing who it would be before she saw him. During the tussle, she hadn’t seen his face clearly or been able to focus on anything besides stopping him.

Tom stood, panting. “I guess we can safely say they know you’re here.”

“Yeah,” she said, still holding the knife like a weapon. “I guess so.”

Tom looked at the blade. “Were you planning on using that?”

She lifted it, then dropped her hand to her side before turning to him. He was holding his hand against his ribs, and blood was running over his mouth from his nose.

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