Page 34 of Fight for You
I parted my lips to speak. To tell her that we could find a new kind of intimacy. A deeper one. That she didn’t have to tense when we kissed and think that I couldn’t love her the way she needed. I’d fulfill all her desires?—
A deep, low guttural growl rolled from nearby. The temptation to cross the line with Jordyn that threatened to swallow me alive crashed. Rebel stood on all fours. Body rigid. Ears up, stiff. Another growl rose from deep in her chest.
I untangled myself from Jordyn and stood. The conversation we had, and the one about intimacy that we needed to have, erased. Every nerve in my body switched. Defense mode. As Jordyn stood, my gaze was already scanning the room. Training kicked in.
Jordyn seemed to have lost her voice. “What is it?”
I placed a finger to my lips, then escorted her around the kitchen island. I pushed the cabinet’s side, and the door opened, revealing the chef’s pantry. Not many people would know to look, but a wealthy buyer would expect to have somewhere like this for things that they don’t want to clutter their kitchen.
“I’m scared,” Jordyn murmured.
“Don’t be. Rebel, in.” I jutted my chin. The dog followed us inside. I went to a drawer that matched the ones in the main kitchen area, opened it, and pulled out a Glock.
As I handed it to Jordyn, she whimpered. “You have another one for you, right?”
“Not down here. Sit against the farthest wall. Shoot anything that’s not me.”
“No-no.” Her hands trembled around the handle as I went to close her inside. “I have the gun and Rebel. You’re leaving yourself weaponless?” she whispered.
I winked. “Not for long.” The second I shut the door to the butler’s pantry, all went dark.Shoot. Someone had cut the lights.
The ocean wind whispered across the sea outside. And then—I caught the sound I needed.
Movement.
Professional?
Yep.
Nearly soundless.
I reached for the knife block and grabbed the handle for the filleting knife. The blade was the same size as my US. Marine Raider Stiletto, a gift from a mentor after I’d completed training. Although no longer in use, a skilled designer crafted the stiletto blade. Delicate. A single purpose weapon, with a beautifully thin tip.
“Living room clear,” someone whispered into a comm.
Great. The enemy was also equipped with night vision goggles.
“Headed to the kitchen now,” the man added.
I moved around the island in a crouched position. The man strolled slowly, boots soft against the marble floor.
As the man walked the shorter side of the island, I sprang to my feet. Knife fisted in my hand, sharp blade facing between my thumb and index, I brought the knife sideways between the man’s bulletproof vest and helmet.Chik.Blood squirted from the man’s jugular.Chik. Chik.
I cradled the man to the ground. I reached for the loop of the mercenary’s suppressed M4 Carbine and?—
Glass crashed in front of me. I didn’t have time to unloop the semiautomatic rifle from the dead tango. Unarmed, my mind swiftly assessed the situation. Three figures came in fast. Trained. Coordinated.
Steadying my pulse, I darted behind the man closest to me.
“What the—” With one hand on top and the other at thebottom of his helmet, I snapped his neck. The mercenary went limp.
I positioned myself behind him, using the corpse as cover. Blood pumped through my veins as the other two turned their semiautos on me, intent on turning me into Swiss cheese. Holding the man up from behind, I used the gun still looped around his arm to shoot. One shot to the chest didn’t drop a man. Just sent him stumbling backward.
Crap. That settled things. They wore military-grade body armor.
In contrast to the two gunmen who riddled their mate’s body with bullets, I aimed for their legs. They fell to their knees. I unlooped the gun, thrusting the first corpse toward the men on their knees. As one tried to crawl away, I placed the nozzle at the man’s neck between his armor and squeezed.
The other man reached for his comms, dragging himself away. “I?—”
