Page 60 of Clara's Secure Hideaway

“What if they’re in her bedroom?”

Cold, icy terror dropped in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed the wave of saliva that hit his pallet. He couldn’t let his mind go to that place, to think about all the ways he could kill Mitch if he laid a hand on her, but they needed a plan just in case.

“Once we’re inside, if we don’t see them, we head down the hall together,” he said. “Take Mitch by surprise. You apprehend him, I’ll get Clara.”

Owen gave one decisive nod.

Inhaling the cool, mountain air, Heath took off toward the back of the house. He stayed close to the white siding, not wanting to give away his presence in case anyone glanced out a window. He drew his weapon, and the familiar weight of the gun in his hands relaxed his muscles. Just like earlier, tackle the job like any other. He just had to rely on his training, trusting his instincts and his partner.

His booted feet crunched on old mulch in a flower bed nestled against the back of the house. He kept as quiet as possible, listening for signs of anyone behind the exterior wall. As soon as he heard Owen attempt to get inside, he’d muscle his way through the back.

The blast of a gun shot his heart to his throat. There was no more time for waiting. He had to get inside the house, now, no matter how much he feared what he’d find.

* * *

Clara dropped to the ground.Drywall crumbled around her, dislodged from the bullet now embedded in the wall. Her body trembled and panic pounded through her veins. Tears filled her burning eyes, and each breath made her lungs scream.

“You bitch! You lying, scheming, whore!” Red splotches dominated Mitch’s face. Fury twisted his expression. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and aimed his weapon at her again before firing another round.

She leapt away, landing hard on her knees. The impact sent a shockwave of pain rippling along her side, but she kept moving. Kept scurrying toward the kitchen. Her attack might not have rendered Mitch useless but at least it impaired him enough to throw off his aim.

Diving behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, she filled her lungs with fresh air to push out the chemicals and struggled to stop the shaking in her legs. Fear threatened to paralyze her, but she couldn’t let it. Freedom was so close. All she had to do was cross the room and get outside. Away from Mitch. Steeling her nerves, she ignored every ache and sprinted toward the door. The sound of heavy footsteps shook the floorboards, but she refused to glance behind her. She yanked open the door and crashed into a hard chest.

Shock stole her breath as she stared into Heath’s kind eyes. Relief flooded her system, and she threw her arms around his neck.

Heath held her tight then pulled back to frame her face in his hands. “Clara! Oh my God, I found you. Are you okay? We need to get you out of here.”

Mitch’s harsh laugh raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She stiffened, shoving against Heath’s chest to back him out, to get him away from Mitch.

“Look who’s late to the party,” Mitch sneered. “Or maybe he’s just in time.”

In one swift movement, Heath spun her around just as another blast erupted from Mitch’s gun. Heath fell to the kitchen floor, taking her with him. She landed hard on her hip, her limbs tangled with Heath’s, his face inches from her own.

Blood flowed from some unknown location on Heath’s body. His eyelids drooped, but he kept his gun in his hand. “Run,” he told her.

A sob caught in her throat. “You’re shot,” she said, unable to move. “I can’t leave you.”

Mitch snorted. “Neither of you are going anywhere.” He pointed his weapon at Heath’s head. “This is perfect. You can watch him die first.”

Heath grimaced and lifted his gun, the strain clear on the contorted lines of his face. His arm trembled, the barrel shaky.

Owen appeared with his weapon trained at Mitch. “Hands up!”

Heath crumbled and he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Fear shook Clara’s soul. There was so much blood. Heath needed medical attention now, but there was no telling how this would play out. If Owen pulled the trigger, Mitch could get off a quick shot—the bullet aimed at either her or Heath.

The side of Mitch’s mouth slid up, making her insides quiver. She’d seen that look a hundred times. Understood where his mind was. She’d witnessed that smirk every time he planned to torture, to hurt, to humiliate.

And right now, he planned to go down in a blaze of fire.

He’d never intended to live. He’d planned to hunt and take and kill. First her, then the kids, followed by himself. He’d wanted them to be together forever in some twisted tale of love gone wrong, and even if his plan had been spoiled, he’d get whatever satisfaction he could.

Tearing herself from Heath, she rose on trembling legs and faced her abuser. Her heart pounded against her breastbone and fear weighed down her limbs like lead. But she couldn’t let fear run her life. Not anymore. “If you take one more shot, Owen will take you down. Kill you if necessary. Is taking mine or Heath’s life worth ending your own?”

Mitch shrugged. “Why not? You said it before. There’s no way out of this situation for me. Might as well have some fun before this is all over.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mitch,” Owen said. “Lower your weapon before anyone else gets hurt.”

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