She was as ready as she could be, but the dreaded moment—a moment she’d prepared for the best she could—rattled her even more than she’d ever expected.
When Leese shifted, her gaze went to him. Naked, water trickling down his powerful body, he seemed rock-steady, determined to defend her against unknown threats.
Dear God, have I waited too long to tell him everything?
Giving her a silent order, he pressed down on her head, wanting her to stay entirely hidden, then he moved around the bed and silently positioned himself behind the door. Unlike her, he held the gun only in his right hand, lowered to his side with the barrel aimed at the floor.
He didn’t look at her again, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from him.
Hurting in her heart, Cat prayed they’d make it through this.
Someone tried the doorknob, and when it didn’t open, a laugh sounded.
“You can lock the door, girl, but we’re coming in anyway.”
Both she and Leese stayed silent, her shaking with fear, him loose and prepared as the door exploded, kicked open with a lot of force.
Cat got one look at a big man, grinning with sick delight as he stepped into the room...
Then with double the force, Leese kicked the door back into his face. Blood spurted from his crushed nose, and the man staggered until he hit the hallway wall hard and slumped to the floor.
Barking a foul curse, a second man lifted his gun. Leese caught his wrist quickly, and keeping the man’s gun aimed at the ceiling, jerked him into the room and against the door to close it. The guy fired off several shots before Leese snapped his wrist and the gun fell.
The noise was deafening—gunshots, shouts of pain, the cracking of bone.
Leese didn’t stop with mangling the man’s arm. He punched him hard in the throat, kneed him in the groin, then kicked his knee. The man’s leg buckled backward and he went down, his face blue, his eyes bulging, his body distorted.
No longer a threat.
The gruesome damage made Cat’s stomach pitch. So much violence, happening so quickly and effortlessly on Leese’s part. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe past the noise and motion and the fear, so much thick, consuming fear.
Her heart punched frantically with the need to somehow help, but at the same time, she saw him handling things with frightening efficiency.
He’d completely disabled the first man without firing a single shot—but not in enough time to completely protect himself.
The man with the smashed nose dived back into the room, already firing his gun before he’d landed. The shot hit Leese in the side, knocking him back, and Cat watched in horror as blood splattered on the wall, bloomed from the wound and snaked down his side.
The cry of outrage strangled in her throat. She didn’t recall standing, didn’t realize that she’d taken aim until she fired.
Not once, not twice, but over and over. Driven by pure reaction, she squeezed the trigger until she ran out of bullets and heard only empty clicks.
“Cat, it’s okay.” Leese’s hand, warm and firm, curled around her wrist. “He’s done. Let up now.”
She stared ahead, seeing the carnage, the motionless bodies of the men who’d attacked. So much blood, so many bullet holes...
“Baby, it’s okay.”
She sucked in air on a sob. “I killed him?”
“No. You shot him in the shoulder and then I took him out. The rest of the bullets hit the wall.”
She took in the scene before her. Bullet holes, all over. Dear God, she was a lousy aim. “I could have hit you!”
“But you didn’t. You helped me.”
Terror receded enough for her to see Leese, really see him—standing tall, hurt but not hindered. With his gun hand, he pressed a T-shirt to his side. With the other he again pushed her to sit, then gently cupped her chin.
“I need you to stay down, babe. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
What? “Wait!”
“Not now, Cat.” With one hard look, he repeated, “Stay down.” The order given, he retrieved something from the nightstand, then went back to the downed men. While constantly searching out the now-broken door, he disarmed them both, tossing multiple weapons onto the bed. He checked each for a pulse, bound their hands and feet together, then glanced back at her and reiterated, “Do. Not. Move.”
Numb, Cat nodded.
He stepped over the men and disappeared into the hall.
Oh my God. Alert, terrified, she listened but couldn’t hear a thing. Thirty seconds aged her like thirty years as she stared at that door, aware of the unmoving men, the smell of gunfire still in the air, the proof of her own incompetence before her.
She badly wanted to trail Leese, but she didn’t want to get in his way. Staying silent, her fingers in a white-knuckled grip on the bedding, she waited in agony until he stepped back in.
The blood now darkened his hip and much of a thigh, making her throat close up in horror.
“I think it’s clear. I relocked the front door. No one else is in the penthouse.” He strode back to her and urged her toward the bathroom. “Stay there.” He retrieved the phone. “Sahara?”
So that’s who he’d called?
Her knees went weak and she sank to the floor.
Leese said, “Shit,” only a second before she heard the new commotion.
Renewed fear didn’t have a chance to take hold before she heard Sahara shout, “Leese? Answer me, damn you!”
Thank God. She put her head on her knees.
“We’re okay,” he called out. “Two men down. Check the building for any others.”
Bleeding, but still issuing orders. God almighty, he was an impressive man.
Cat tried to fill her lungs and retched instead.
“Hey.” Coming to his knees beside her, Leese stroked her head. “You did great, honey.”
She gave a shaky, half-sick laugh.
Justice made it into the room first, Sahara behind him. Their gazes went everywhere, skimmed over the now stirring men, then zeroed in on Leese, naked and bleeding.
“Do I wanna know?” Justice asked.
Sahara just raised a brow.
Grabbing for a towel, Leese explained, “I was showering when they got in.” He wrapped it around himself. “No time to get dressed.”
With a confusing lack of alarm, Justice asked, “You got hit?”
“A flesh wound.” Disgusted, Leese said, “I’ll be fine, but I don’t know about those two. Did you send men to search the rest of the agency? There could be others.”
“She did.” Justice nudged Sahara with an elbow, and almost knocked her off her heels. “I haven’t seen her shook up before, but taking that call from you, she was squealing like a little girl ready to burst into tears and—”
“You’re bleeding a lot,” Sahara interrupted.
That snapped Cat out of her trauma. She looked at Leese’s side, just above his hip bone, and saw the awful damage done to his flesh. The bullet appeared to have torn across him, leaving a three-inch-long furrow, blackened around the edges, constantly oozing blood. Already his skin started to bruise.
“Oh my God, Leese,” she whispered. “You were shot.”