Page 56 of The Engagement Party

Ruthie never thought she’d need the thigh holster when she bought it. Now she was grateful for that specialized shopping trip. Despite all the safety classes and all those hours spent at the shooting range learning how to handle a weapon, she didn’t feel one bit prepared for the turn this weekend had taken.

Getting drenched going out to the shed had given her a reason to change clothes. She’d picked a flowy skirt for exactly this reason, but the strap hugging her leg felt so confining, like it was cutting off the blood to her leg. The suffocating sensation wasn’t real. She blamed the people in this house for crowding her mentally and physically.

The unspent energy inside her ramped up as she waited for Sierra to spill what she knew about the gun. She’d ended the bedroom confrontation by walking out. She didn’t say a word or make any threats. She calmly backed away, leaving Ruthie confused and spinning, dreading the moment the situation would implode into a rain of emotional shrapnel and forced secret-sharing.

But Sierra and her worries didn’t matter to Ruthie now. Thedoor mattered. How fast she could pull that gun and fire mattered. Practicing on a stationary target without a pulse differed from this hellish experience. The former marines who owned the range and had trained her insisted there was nothing worse than being forced to fire on another person. Wrong. Waiting to die and fearing you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself was worse.

They’d left their lookout positions around the room and crowded by the sectional. Everyone held a makeshift weapon. They looked like a mismatched neighborhood watch group ready to defend their rosebushes from invaders. All they needed were the pitchforks and shovels.

The banging started again. This time the sound of muffled talking seeped through the door. “Let me in.”

“Do we?” Will asked.

Ruthie couldn’t believe he’d survived in the world this long.

Mitch also looked stunned by the question. “Seriously?”

Sierra, who had been stoic and mostly silent since their run-in, shook off her stupor. “Can anyone get a good angle and see who’s standing out there?”

“Not from here.” Cassie had fallen into a sort ofprotect what’s minestance with her legs slightly apart and a log in her hand, ready to swing. She’d positioned her body in front of Alex’s. He was on his feet but listing, depending on the back of the sectional to keep him upright.

They stood about twenty feet from the front door. Mitch shot glances behind them at the much closer back door. Rain pinged against the porch roof and spattered the windows. Streaks of water clouded their view, and the lighted path didn’t provide any hint about who was out there.

Will should do it.Ruthie felt fine sacrificing him. He was theone person in this house she didn’t trust fighting beside her in a battle because he’d reason out the angles while she got stuck protecting them both. She at least stood a chance with the rest of them.

She stared at him then nodded toward the door. “Try it.”

“What if someone shoots through it?” Will’s voice rose as he spit out the question.

“This is ridiculous.” Sierra shoved her way to the front of the group and took a few hesitant steps toward the door.

Mitch reached for her. Even Cassie tried to stop her.

Ruthie didn’t want Sierra hurt. Not the one innocent person in all of this. “Sierra, no.”

Sierra ignored the shuffling and made it to the small foyer. She stood pressed against the wall to the side of the door and peeked out the thin strip of glass there. In theory, the reflective film allowed her to look out but blocked anyone from looking in.

The tension in her face relaxed a bit. “It’s the police officer. He must have been unconscious at the shed.”

“Is he alone?” Alex asked from the back of the crowd.

Sierra looked again, taking a longer peek this time. “I don’t see anyone else.”

“Wait a second.” Mitch stalked up behind her. He gently maneuvered her behind his shoulder as he took a turn peeking out. “He keeps looking around, as if expecting to be jumped.”

“I wonder why,” Sierra said as if she’d borrowed some of Mitch’s sarcasm for the response.

Boom. Boom.

They all jumped at the renewed banging on the door. Sierra grabbed the back of Mitch’s shirt and seemed determined not to let go.

“Open up.” The voice sounded far away but the order was clear.

“Right.” Mitch motioned for everyone to move back and lift their weapons. “Be ready.”

Ruthie wanted to askfor what?but she doubted Mitch had a better guess than anyone else.

Sierra stretched up on her tiptoes, using Mitch for leverage, and looked outside again. “He’s holding his side. I can see dark blotches on his shirt. Probably blood.”

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