Page 84 of Sheltered By Love

I’m so close I can hear what they’re saying. “Stay here in case the neighbor comes back. The bathroom light is on upstairs.”

The bulkier one grunts and adjusts his gruesome mask. “This better be the right place. The boss just said a ditzy little blonde. No one said nothin' about a Marine living next door.”

Stupidly, that irritates me. These oafs are breaking into my house, and they’re insulting me?

After a few more gripes, they open the door and laugh at how dumb I must be to leave the back door unlocked after they scared me a few nights ago.

For all the wrong reasons and out of sheer insanity, my fists curl at my sides, and not for the first time in my life, I wish I had a weapon handy.

I pat my pockets and nearly cry aloud when I feel the unyielding lump that is the cell phone Zane made me carry.

Zane

I’m sitting watching the screens, feeling like crud for leaving Roger outside when the motion sensor I installed next door goes off.

I hold a breath as I check it out, praying tonight I can finally catch the thieves and put an end to this.

Dammit!

Felicity isn’t taking a bath at the end of the hall, she’s in the garden.

I squint at the screen and make out the reason she’s ignored me again.

She’s found Roger and he’s having his freaking binky time.

I let out a curse and push back from the desk ready to go haul her back inside when she freezes, looks to the left and I do the same.

I lower myself back on the chair and zoom in. Even in night mode, her face is grainy but I don’t need high res to know what she’s doing when she jumps behind a shrub.

I scramble to switch to the camera at the back door, have enough time to confirm no one is at the front of the house, and have my cell ready to hit dial when I hear a creak on the stairs.

As quietly as I can, I ease myself up, pick up my Glock and shift back behind the open door.

I take a breath, and release it, breathing through my nostrils as adrenaline surges through my body.

I have no idea if two of them are in the house.

But the second they step inside the office, they’ll know this is a trap. I mess this up, and they run before I can call for backup, we lose our final chance.

Now straining to hear, I lean forward slightly and shift my weight so it’s evenly distributed.

A shadow falls across the floor, signaling at least one is at the threshold. I don’t wait for them to see the surveillance equipment, I kick the door as hard as I can.

When it hits something solid, and I hear a response, I swing my gun arm toward the sound.

I have half a second to react when the shadow in the hallway lunges at me.

I grunt at the impact as I land winded, but still holding my gun as I catch the glint of a knife just before I roll out of striking distance.

I scramble to my feet, skirting around him, blocking his exit as he swipes clumsily at me.

“Give it up, I don’t want to shoot you in here,” I growl at him.

He doesn’t do anything but curse. Any sane person would have given up by now and his knife strikes are becoming increasingly unpredictable.

He’s on something. Just great.

He loses his footing and bangs into the desk, giving me an opening. I slam the handle of the gun down on his knife hand, and with a kick send it skittering out of his reach.

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