With a twinge of irritation, Jack realized he wouldn’t be able to kill the intruder in good conscience if he was drunk, but a painful disable was definitely on the agenda.
The dark, shadowy figure moved into his line of sight, little more than a black silhouette. Jack was just standing up to end the guy’s trashing spree and get some answers when another sound had him freezing.
“Don’t move, or I’ll blow yer feckin’ head off.”
Kathleen! Jack’s gaze snapped to the doorway across from the hidden entrance. The glow of the outside streetlamps outlined her wee form; the illumination of the flashlight cast her features in relief. Hair tussled and free, wearing nothing but Jack’s shirt, and levelling a gun at the intruder (his Glock?), she looked like a fierce, avenging angel.
Jack had never seen her look more beautiful. Or been more terrified. He was going to put her over his knee for being so reckless. Right after he held her in his arms and told her how much he fucking loved her.
“Who the fuck are you?” the guy demanded.
“I’m the owner,” she said clearly. “And you’re trespassing.”
Pride welled up in Jack’s chest at her words, right along with anger that she’d be foolish enough to take on an attacker by herself, and stark terror that she’d be hurt.
“You’re the owner?” the man asked in disbelief. He scratched his head as if trying to work through that.
Jack could only see his dark silhouette, but it was enough to recognize the shape of the crowbar in the hand not currently raised. From her position at the door, Kathleen wouldn’t see it.
Calling upon his years of training, Jack forced his fear for Kathleen down once again and assessed the situation. Nearly the entire length of the narrow room separated him from his bride. The intruder stood between them with a weapon, within lunging distance. Toppled boxes and broken bottles littered the floor, making stealth difficult.
There was no way for Jack to get around him without making his presence known, but if Kathleen kept the guy’s attention, he could conceivably get close enough to disarm and subdue. Willing her to not do anything stupid, he moved forward with extreme caution.
“Yes, I am,” she answered.
“I thought Jack Callaghan bought this place.”
“Jack Callaghan is my husband.”
Jack’s heart swelled at the way Kathleen spoke those words, with such clarity and conviction. Under other circumstances, he’d be tempted to beat his chest. He was going to show her how much he appreciated that, but it would have to wait until after he took care of this trash.
“And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop your vandalizing,” Kathleen continued. Jack took another careful step, crouching behind the stacks of boxes the bastard hadn’t yet smashed. One more would put him out in the open.
The intruder laughed, a barking, ugly sound that echoed in the small space. “Or what?”
Kathleen didn’t hesitate. “Or I’ll shoot you where you stand and leave you for the paramedics to sort out.”
Shite! Jack wanted her to distract him, not antagonize him. He needed to be just a little closer...
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
The wail of sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder with each breath.
“You called the cops?” the man growled at Kathleen.
“Of course I did. You broke into my home, you piece of - ”
Several things happened in the span of one thundering heart beat to the next. The vandal made an angry, growling sound and lurched forward, raising the crowbar as if to attack. Jack abandoned his plan and lunged, intent on taking the man out before he could get to Kathleen. And Kathleen pulled the trigger twice in quick succession.
Jack felt the angry burn of the bullet piercing his shoulder even as he landed on the guy, who was already halfway to the ground. The keg holding the flashlight tipped; the light landed on the floor and rolled, temporarily blinding him.
“Kathleen, get out!”
“Jack?! Oh my God, Jack!”
Kathleen’s panicked cries rent the air, piercing in their intensity.
“Stay back!” he barked when she tried to come closer. Could not the woman listen to him just this once? Compartmentalizing the pain (something at which he had become quite adept), Jack’s first priority was neutralizing the assailant. Although it quickly became clear that wasn’t going to be an issue. The guy was writhing on the floor, sobbing and wailing, one hand alternately going from his thigh to his arm.
“You shot me! You fucking shot me! You crazy bi-”
Jack ended the bastard’s tirade with a single punch to the jaw. The guy’s head snapped and hit the hardwood floor boards with a dull thud. In the next moment Kathleen was on Jack, knocking him backwards.
“Jack!”
She ran her hands over him, planted desperate kisses all over his face, her eyes huge in worry and panic. It would have been comical if his heart still hadn’t been in his throat. Instead of answering, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him in a soul-searing kiss.
“Are you hurt?” he whispered huskily.