But Houston didn’t really believe that.
Something was wrong.
He stepped into the hall and waited until Gabrielle had locked the door before he started for his office. It wasn’t far, just six rooms away, but it suddenly felt as if he had miles to go. He grabbed a small marble statue from the hall table. Not that it would be much of a weapon against an armed intruder, but it was better than nothing.
Houston hurried but he didn’t run. He didn’t want the sound of his own footsteps drowning out anyone who might be close. Unfortunately, close could be many different places, because the U-shaped hall meant someone could be on the other side, making their way toward him. He hoped he would run into whoever this was, because it was better than the alternative—the guy sneaking up the stairs to Houston’s suite where Gabrielle and Lucas were.
He paused when he got to the back of the hall and glanced around the corner. Empty.
Thank God.
He glanced back at his suite, knowing that once he rounded the corner, it would be out of sight. That’s why he had to make every second count.
Houston took a deep breath, raced up the back of the hall and practically dove across the space and into his open office door. But he didn’t go all the way into the room. He turned on the lights and listened to make sure he had the place to himself. It was hard to hear over the buzz of the security system. The buzz was like white noise, muting everything else around him.
Like the rest of the house, his office had a lot of hiding
spaces, and he didn’t want to be ambushed. Gabrielle, Lily Rose and Lucas needed him to get back to them safely.
When he was satisfied that no one was going to jump out at him, Houston went to his desk and took out the handgun he kept there. He scooped up some extra ammunition and stuffed it into his pockets. He hoped like hell he wouldn’t need it.
Houston used the security system panel in his office to turn off the annoying alarm buzz. The silence was instant, practically closing in around him. And it was because of the silence that he heard the sound.
He’d already started for the office door, but he stopped, wondering if it was a sound he could dismiss. Even if it wasn’t, he had to get moving. He had to get back to Gabrielle.
Houston glanced out the doorway of his office. This part of the hall was still empty, so he headed out, trying to keep watch. Trying to listen. And most of all, trying to hurry.
He heard the sound again. A thump, as if someone had bashed into something. It hadn’t come from the front of the house, or even near his office. The sound had come from the direction of his suite.
Oh, hell.
Houston raced toward the sound, and he prayed that nothing was wrong. That it was just the wind.
But it wasn’t. He heard something that turned his blood to ice. Gabrielle screamed out his name.
Gabrielle barely had time to boot up Houston’s laptop when she heard the doorknob rattle. For such a small movement, it did huge things to her. Her breath and her thoughts began to race.
“Houston?” she softly called out. Nothing.
But she assured herself that it was possible he hadn’t heard her over the buzzing sound of the security alarm.
Gabrielle picked up the gun from where she’d placed it on the desk, and she tiptoed toward the door. She only made it two steps when the alarm stopped. Just like that, it was quiet again, and she started to believe that she hadn’t heard the doorknob after all.
She waited, listening. Or rather, trying to listen over the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears. But the only thing she heard were the soft cooings that Lucas was making in the bathroom. Her son was obviously in a playful mood, and she couldn’t be with him because there might be a threat.
“Houston?” she tried again, keeping her voice barely above a whisper.
She didn’t want to alert Lily Rose. Or give away her
location if there was indeed the threat that her body was bracing itself for. Still nothing.
She turned to go back to the laptop, but the doorknob rattled again. This time she knew it wasn’t her imagination. Someone was on the other side.
“Who is it?” she called out, her voice louder now.
The person still didn’t answer, but the doorknob shook almost violently.
Oh, God.
Was someone trying to break in?
A second later, Gabrielle got the answer to that question when there was a loud bash. Someone had rammed hard into the door.
She barely choked back a gasp, and she aimed the gun at the door.
“Who’s out there?” she demanded.
Lucas stopped cooing, and she no longer heard Lily Rose’s soft murmurings, which were no doubt meant to keep Lucas entertained and calm. Everything seemed to freeze.
Until the person bashed against the door again. Whoever it was, they were trying to break it down, and they weren’t giving up.
“I have a gun,” Gabrielle managed to say.
And she would use it. There was no way she would let the danger get to her son.
The next bash was harder and louder, and the wood around the jamb seemed to groan when it gave way. The door practically burst right at her and hit her. It slammed her into the wall, throwing her off-balance.
She didn’t fire right away. She couldn’t. The gun
slipped in her hand, and she had to reposition it before she could take aim. Besides, Gabrielle wanted to make sure it wasn’t Houston, though she couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t have answered her when she called out, and he almost certainly wouldn’t have broken down the door.
She caught just a glimpse of someone wearing dark clothes and a ski mask, and then the gloved hand reached out and slapped off the lights, plunging them into darkness.
It wasn’t Houston. The person dove right at her. And Gabrielle heard herself scream.
She called out Houston’s name. But it was already too late. She couldn’t get the gun ready and aimed before the person slammed right into her. Unlike the door, this jolt was hard because it hit her directly in the chest, and it knocked the breath right out of her.
Gabrielle dropped to the floor because she had no choice. The person’s momentum caused her to fall, and her head smacked into a chair. It was nearly impossible to see because of the darkness, and that didn’t help.
Her vision blurred. She fought with her breath, trying to gather enough air into her lungs so she could do something about this attack. But the person didn’t give her a chance to get her bearings. He was on her before she could do anything.
And it was a
he.
There was no doubt about that. Gabrielle felt the corded muscles on his chest.
“Are you okay?” Lily Rose called out.
Gabrielle wanted the nanny to stay quiet, but it was probably a normal reaction. After all, Lily Rose had heard her scream.
The man hauled Gabrielle off the floor and shoved her in front of him. She still couldn’t catch her breath—still couldn’t see. But she could certainly feel. His rough grip on her shoulder and arm was bruising, and he wasn’t gentle, either, when he jammed the gun against her right temple.
Oh, mercy.
Was she about to be executed? She thought of Lucas. If she died, then that only left Houston to protect him. Could he get there in time? Or had he even heard her? Her heart broke at the thought of this monster with the gun getting anywhere near her son.
But anger soon replaced that feeling of heartbreak. Neither Lucas nor she had done anything wrong, and they didn’t deserve this.
Gabrielle nursed that anger, and she let it fuel her while she gathered the breath and strength she needed for a fight. She couldn’t wait for Houston or anyone to save her. She might be the only thing standing between this man and her son.
Knowing it was a risk, she drew back her elbow so she could try to ram it into his stomach. But she stopped when she heard the footsteps in the hall, just outside the door.
Houston!
With his gun aimed, Houston stepped into the doorway. Even though it was dark, she could still see his intense expression. He glanced around the room, probably to make sure Lucas wasn’t anywhere in the line of fire.
“Drop your gun,” Houston ordered her attacker.
Gabrielle braced herself for the man to shoot her. But
he didn’t. He also didn’t respond to Houston’s demand, other than to shove her forward several inches. What was he doing? Better yet, who
was
he?
All of their suspects were male, all about the same height, so she had no idea if this was Mack, Dale, Salvador Franks or Harlan Cordell. Or her brother.
But Gabrielle didn’t want to believe that Jay would be willing to take things this far.
“You don’t have to do this,” Houston called out. “Just let Gabrielle go and tell me what you want. If it’s money, I’ll get it for you.”
Still no verbal response.
But the man muscled her forward until she was only about five feet away from Houston. Part of her was glad they might be getting out of the suite. The more space between Lucas and the guns, the better. However, she did want to know what this man intended to do with Houston and her.
Gabrielle looked Houston straight in the eyes. “If he shoots, kill him,” she instructed.
Houston’s jaw muscles turned to iron. He didn’t want her to die, but he probably realized he might not have a say in that matter. After all, she had a gun pointed directly at her head. At point-blank range, she wasn’t likely to survive. But Houston would. And without her in the way, he would have a clean shot. A shot that Gabrielle wanted him to take.
“Let…her…go,” Houston said, turning that icy stare to her attacker.
However, instead of doing that, the man pushed her forward even more. He dug the barrel of the gun even harder into her skin, but he let go of her arm. Gabrielle
started to bolt forward, but the man turned the gun…on Houston.
She froze, waiting to see what he intended to do. But he didn’t shoot. He took something from his pocket and thrust it forward. When Houston didn’t take it, the man threw it at him. Houston dodged it, and she saw the folded sheet of paper flutter to the floor.
The man put the gun back to her head, and he curved his arm around her waist. Houston didn’t take his gaze off her, and he didn’t lower his gun when he bent down and picked up the paper. He glanced at it, his attention volleying between it and her as he scanned over whatever was written there.
Houston crammed the paper into his front jeans pocket. “No deal,” he told the man.
Oh, God. What did that mean?
What had the man asked Houston to do? Judging from the fire that shot through Houston’s eyes, it had something to do with Lucas.
The man’s grip on her tightened, and he used that grip to maneuver her closer to Houston, inch by inch. Because Gabrielle didn’t know what he had in mind, she struggled, trying to hold her ground, but it didn’t do any good. They moved so close to Houston that he had to back up.
“I’ll give you what you want now,” Houston said. “But Gabrielle doesn’t leave. She stays here.”
The man didn’t answer, but Gabrielle could feel his muscles tighten, and he was breathing way too fast. She hoped he was on the verge of hyperventilating, but she doubted they’d get that lucky.
Houston backed up more, probably because he knew each step would take them away from Lucas.
Gabrielle kept eye contact with Houston and tried to focus on each step and each little movement. All she needed was a distraction or something, and she might be able to break free.
Houston moved to the side when the man started down the stairs with her. Her captor turned, keeping her in front of them, while they walked backwards. That way, he could keep the gun on her while watching Houston, to make sure he didn’t launch himself at them.
She wobbled, testing her balance and the man’s reaction, but he only jammed the gun even harder against her skin. She glanced over her shoulder, behind them, and saw there were only about six more steps to go. Time was running out.
Once they reached the last step—which wasn’t far away at all—Gabrielle figured that would be her best chance. She certainly didn’t want to risk him getting her out of the house and into a vehicle. If that happened, God knows where he’d take her. Or what he would do to her.
Was this about Lucas? Or was did it have to do with what had happened at the Cryogen Clinic? If she could just get a look at her captor’s face, then she would likely know the answer to that.
She counted each step until they reached the bottom one. And she knew it was time. Gabrielle took a deep breath and tried to convey to Houston what she was about to do. Not that it would help. He already had his gun aimed, and he’d bracketed his right wrist with his left hand.
If he got a shot, he would take it.
Gabrielle moved with the man when he stepped down onto the foyer floor, and she tried to give no indication to him as to what she was about to do. She said a quick prayer.
And threw all her weight backwards. She rammed right into him. At best, she was hoping to put him off-balance long enough for her to get away. But the
at best
didn’t happen. Gabrielle felt herself falling backwards.
Just as the shot blasted from the man’s gun.
H
OUSTON DOVE TO THE SIDE,
though he didn’t have much room to dodge the bullet. His brain barely had time to register that the guy had missed when Houston saw him take aim again. At Gabrielle.
She fell to the floor, just barely out of the way, and definitely not out of the line of fire. Houston had to do something to get the shooter’s attention off her and onto him.
Houston jumped over the side of the banister and landed on his feet on the marble floor. He pivoted so he could take aim at their attacker, but the guy ducked down and tried to grab on to Gabrielle. She kicked at him and tried to get away, and by doing so, she blocked the path so that Houston couldn’t get a clean shot. He couldn’t risk firing, because he might hit Gabrielle.
She got to her feet and ran into a formal sitting room. No lights were on in that particular room, but Houston didn’t need the lights to see that she was about to be shot.
With Gabrielle out of the way, Houston fired at the man. He missed. The bullet left Houston’s gun at
the exact second the man bolted into the room after Gabrielle.
There was another shot. Houston cursed because the shot had come from the gunman. The SOB had no doubt fired at Gabrielle.
Leaving the meager cover of the stair banister, Houston went after them, but he knew he couldn’t just fire at random. Lily Rose and Lucas were just one floor above, and he had no idea if the ceilings would be able to block bullets. And he couldn’t risk it.
With his gun ready, Houston paused at the arched opening of the sitting room, and he peered around the corner. He didn’t see anyone, but there was a lot of bulky furniture for someone to hide behind. He hoped that’s exactly what Gabrielle was doing—hiding. He needed her in as safe a place as she could manage, so he could go after this goon who was attacking them in Houston’s own home.
One way or another, the guy would pay for that, especially if that bullet had hit her.
Just the thought of that put Houston’s heart in his throat. She could be hurt. She could be dying. And this SOB might be responsible.
He had to tamp down his rage and fear. He wouldn’t be any good to them if he went after this guy with guns blazing.
Houston heard the movement in the far corner near a massive antique hutch, but he couldn’t tell if Gabrielle had made the sound or if it’d come from their attacker. So he waited and tried to figure out exactly where she was. Each second seemed like an hour.
“Gabrielle?” he softly called out.
She didn’t answer, but he heard the movement again.
Houston stayed positioned on the side of the archway, but he reached inside the room and grabbed a small onyx figurine from the table. He remembered something about it being extremely valuable, but right now its only value to him was that it could cause the distraction he needed.
Houston hurled it, not at the hutch where he’d heard the earlier movement, but at the center coffee table that was decorated with a glass bowl of crystal balls. The onyx piece slammed into all that glass, creating the loud noise that he’d hoped for.
He saw Gabrielle then. She darted out from the hutch and raced into the adjoining formal dining room.
Houston saw the gunman, too. He came up from behind the sofa and took aim at Gabrielle.
“Over here!” Houston shouted.
His shout worked, because the gunman swiveled in Houston’s direction and fired. Houston fired, too, though he kept his shot low and aimed at the floor. He then turned and ran to the back of the foyer so he could try to intercept Gabrielle. If she continued to run through the maze of rooms, she’d eventually make it to the kitchen.
And so would the gunman.
There was no ideal place for a shootout in the house, but if Houston could just get to Gabrielle before the gunman did, he might be able to use the granite and stone counters to protect her from any bullets. Plus, once he had her semisafe, he could go after the gunman and take him off the face of the earth.