Page 77 of Four Fiances & I

“Shit, sorry,” he curses as he wakes with a jump.

“It’s fine to stay there. I think she would want us both here anyway,” I whisper, turning on my side so I can lie behind Jasmine.

“No, I need my bed. But come get me if she gets upset.”

I nod as he climbs off the bed.

“How is Maximus?” I ask, running my hand over her head.

“He flipped. One of the pictures needs a new frame.”

I nod as it’s what I had expected. Maximus has always been the one of us who reacts badly to anything Jasmine is put through. His love for her is everything to him, and he can't handle it when he doesn’t protect her, even If he hadn’t known her when she was hurt.

“Everything else okay?”

Jason nods before yawning.

“Yeah, fine. Try and get some rest, and shout if you need me.”

I nod and wish him a good night as he switches the lamp off on her side of the bed and heads to his own room. Leaving me to lie in the dark with my strong, beautiful woman who has proven once again that there is nothing she can't take on and overcome.

Pulling her into my arms, I lie down, burying my nose into her hair as I remind myself that we are here together, safe and sound, even if only for tonight; I’m not going to think about anything other than that.

Tomorrow is another day, and I’m sure it will bring just as much shit as any other, but as always, I know I can face it with this woman by my side, and I am another day closer to tying her to me forever.

ChapterTwenty-Five

JASMINE

I wake with a jump as a loud, high-pitched alarm sounds from all angles.

“Daddy?” I reach for Christian, who should be sleeping beside me, but the bed’s empty.

A loud thud sounds from the window as the room descends into complete darkness. Jumping from the bed, I rush to it and throw open the curtains, only to find the bulletproof shutters down.

“Daddy?” I yell this time as I panic, realising it could only mean one thing: we are under attack.

“Daddy!” I scream, rushing for the bathroom to find it empty. “Where are you?” Rushing back into the room, I try the bedroom door, but it’s locked. The alarm is still ringing, drowning out all other sounds from outside the room. The only thing I can still hear is my pounding heart. Panic threatens to take over, but I give my head a shake and force myself to focus.

“Christian!” I don’t know why I’m still calling him; he’s not here. But if he’s not here, where is he?

Has he been taken?

Has the house been breached, are all of my men now in danger? What about Mrs Brown, Terry and Layton? Are they safe?

The image of Christian lying in a pool of blood fills my mind. His eyes trained on me as the blood continues to flow from him. The fear consumes me like a cage, trapping me within its bars, tightening until it’s all I can feel. In seconds, I see all four of them lying in the same position, all covered in blood and dead. Their images change just as quickly to Mrs Brown and the guys.

With my fingers threaded into the root of my hair, I tug at it, trying to get myself to focus on anything but my vivid imagination. Now is not the time for a panic attack; I need to work through all the steps the guys have drilled into me.

Taking one deep breath in an attempt to force myself to focus, I spin around and rush to the bedside cabinet where I know Christian keeps a gun for emergencies. Grabbing it from its hidden compartment at the back, I check it’s loaded and grab some extra bullets just in case. I look down at the gun in my hand, and the image of my mother's face as I killed her is all I can see. I’ve not held a gun since that day. The guys haven’t even attempted to continue my self-defence weapon training; we purely focus on hand-to-hand combat. My hands shake as I check the safety is in place, and the image of the bullet entering my mother’s head flashes up again. My breath catches as the guilt threatens to make me vomit where I stand, but I force myself to remember why I did it. I did it to save Christian and will do it again if necessary.

Keeping hold of the strength my men have given me, I rush to the other side of the bed, drop down, and hide as the guys have taught me. The alarm finally cuts off at almost the exact moment I get into position. The memory of the alarm going off when I was locked in that godforsaken hell hole tries to overcome me, but I push it back. I am not there; I’m here in our home and will not be taken again.

I hear voices yelling outside the door, bringing me back to the room. I can’t make them out as my ears are ringing from the alarm. I try harder to listen and pick out who I can hear, but it’s impossible.

I hear them getting louder, and the sound of the door handle moving has me spinning around and flicking the safety off the gun while aiming at the door.

“Jazzy!” Jason throws open the door, and I instinctively drop the gun onto the bed and rush round to him.

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