“What the hell? Why doesn’t the phone work?”
Ryder takes the phone and does a couple of things trying to get it to turn back on but no, nada.
“Dead. All the damn phone calls you’ve been making, man. How the hell did you forget to charge the damn thing?”
“Doesn’t matter now. We have more phones.”
“She’s right. Let’s calm down. Get the lights back on. The generator should kick in…”
And that is where my plan turns the corner into chaos. This I definitely didn’t see coming.
Atlas’ words are cut off by a massive fireball and a gust of force that knocks out the kitchen windows.
The cabin rattles. Glass flies, the tiny knife-like fragments slice along my skin.
A scream slices through the night. I don’t realize it’s me doing the screaming until two hundred pounds of male lands on top of me and I go down to the carpet. I can’t tell which way is up for a second. Snow blasts through the busted-out windows. Flakes of ice meet the scorching hot pot of stew giving off a sizzling sound. It’s the only thing I hear outside the howling wind.
I stare at the windows for a long second wondering what the hell went wrong. Did someone forget to care for the generator, and it just exploded or what?
Yeah, I wish I hadn’t even thought of the question because I don’t like the answer.
I learn fast it’s nothing accidental, and we are not alone on our side of the lake.
Hailing bullets ricochet off the stainless-steel countertop and hanging cast iron skillets. Sharp brown eyes pierce mine and the second I turn to meet Atlas’s gaze I see the man turn into warrior mode.
Ryder and Brogan are already pulling on their pants. The glow of the fire is the only source of light we have and it’s fighting for its life in the whirling winds as much as we are.
Brogan tosses clothes at me, and I don’t ask where or how they got them. The dryer maybe? I just shove my feet into a pair of jeans and button up one of Brogan’s shirts. Forget a bra.
Beside me I find a pair of fuzzy slippers and put my toes into them. It’s fiercely cold and I blame that for why my fingers tremble over the buttons.
Atlas takes over and helps me after finding his own pants. None of them have shoes or shirts and there’s glass everywhere.
“This way,” he bellows over the rushing winds. Thinking we are all going to safety I follow. But the second I turn around I see I’m being pushed into a laundry room where without the fire it’s darker and colder.
Nah. This Texan chick doesn’t huddle and cower.
“Fuck you, Atlas. Give me a gun. You have my back. I have yours.”
Shadows hide his expression, but the silhouette of his locked stance can be seen just fine. He actually thinks he’s going to win this. I shove at him, and Ryder comes up from behind with weapons I never saw unloaded from the SUV in hand.
“Where did those come from?”
“Upstairs armory.”
Another wave of bullets and Atlas is moving me deeper inside the laundry room. I shove right back, take a Glock from Ryder, and check the clip for rounds. “I’m tired of running. Hiding. Looking scared. This ends tonight.”
Though I can’t see their eyes I can feel their shock. “Justice and her men take me to target practicing twice a month. They’ve taught me a few things.”
“Remind us to thank them.”
I know if he really wants, Atlas can lock me in this room and I’d never win a battle of strength. I guess I’m lucky enough to have men willing to listen to me.
“Keep the gun but stay here. You see anyone who isn’t us, shoot. Follow our instructions and you’ll be safe. We have to put out the fire before it spreads.”
“But make sure it’s not us.”
“Then don’t leave me alone and I won’t mistake you for someone else.”
Ryder chuckles a dark-sounding laugh. “Stay here. You’ll be safe. We’ll be right back.” And true to their nature, they slip soundlessly into the night.
I take stock of my surroundings. Something I should have done when I first arrived.
Flashlight. There’s nothing in the laundry room so I head to the kitchen.
“There you are, you whoring bitch. It didn’t take long to get them away from you. Pathetic.”
I whirl around to face someone just as they step into the kitchen. With no window in the frame reaching in and unlocking it was just a pesky nuisance.
I pull my gun, aim down the barrel. Only the snow in my eyes doesn’t let me get a good aim. Fake it till you make it. “I swear I will shoot you. Get away from me.” I pop off a warning shot. “The next one goes in your head.”
“Right. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. No way you’ll shoot me.”
The shadowed attacker lunges across the kitchen and I fling the boiling pot of soup in his face.
I look around for some source of light when I find a cell phone. My heart is in my throat and my fingers are near freezing. Asshole extraordinaire is screaming and on his knees. This is my only chance.
I flick on the screen and tap the flashlight app.
A blaze of white light fills the darkened kitchen and I turn it on the man.
“Oh my God!”
I stumble back and barely keep from dropping the phone and my gun.
“Mr. Mackay.”
Lips peel back in a grimace. “I told you I would keep you safe. Why did you have to go to that filthy place? All you needed was me.” He has a bottle of something with him and I immediately realize it’s gas. He starts flinging the flammable liquid all over the place.
My thudding heart rattles in my chest.
I try to piece together this man’s puzzle but I’m not connecting all the dots.
“What the hell are you talking about? You’re my driver? I’ve never shown interest in dating you. Never gave you any indication I even wanted to.”
“You left your phone in my car. I saw your dating profile. Who do you think you stood up, you stupid bitch? That’s when I knew you needed help.”
“Me? I’m not the one pouring gas all over a kitchen, you asshole!”
It all makes sense now.
“I’ve loved you since day one. I couldn’t let you meet anyone else. Why couldn’t you see that? Did I not get you food? Give you flowers?”
He stands and stumbles forward, but I duck around the kitchen island. “Stay the fuck away from me. You lay a finger on me; my men will kill you. Be warned.”
“You’re mine, bitch. It’s me or no one!” He lunges for me and I scream out in shock and fury when his fingers snag my necklace.
“Get the hell away from me. It was you who’s been scaring me? You attacked me? Hurt me? You don’t do that to people you say you love.” Venom pours from my words. “You should be in prison for what you’ve put me through.”
I don’t have time to try and talk him down from the mental ledge he’s perched on. I sprint toward the exit, but I’m forced back when a death grip tightens in my hair.
He throws me to the ground, and I crawl to the other side of the kitchen. Smoke fills the kitchen and I use it to my advantage. I stare around for my gun from where it clattered to the floor. Spotting it, I dive and snatch. Panic as much as disbelief fills me.
I raise the gun, aim down the barrel and pull the trigger. I don’t know if I hope to hit true or miss. My gut is in knots at both possibilities. I hear a grunt and make for the door again. This time I make it. I’ve never been so happy to be so damn cold.
The second my feet hit snow, all three men are right there. Soot covers their faces and hands. “He’s inside,” I shout over the wind. “I think I shot him.” Brogan and Atlas disappear into the smoke. Minutes later I can hear grunts and a body fly through the kitchen window. Atlas is out of the cabin first. Brogan on his heels. Mackay lunges to his feet and they go at it. Punches fly. Left hooks and uppercuts. But Atlas has years of Spec Op training under his belt, weight, and height on his side. Brogan and Ryder stand back, letting Atlas take the lead.
The flake of a man doesn’t stand a chance. Bitter cold settles deep in my bones and I am shivering but I can’t look away. I can’t run to find warmth when my men are out here fighting to protect me.
Atlas drives him to the ground and pins his arms behind him. Flashing lights roar up our snow-covered trail. It’s not even a driveway, really.
Three men I don’t recognize hop out of police cruisers and haul my attacker to his feet. “I see you’ve been keeping busy.”
They exchange words and Atlas nods. He is covered in smudges of soot and bare chested, but he doesn’t seem affected by the cold. One of the men I don’t recognize hands him a heavy coat and passes a few more to Brogan and Ryder. Even one for me.
“Thank you.” I hurriedly take it and moan. I guess that’s country living. You have everything for survival with you or else.
Atlas joins us and takes me in his arms. Brogan and Ryder huddle in on opposite sides. I’m cocooned in their warmth. “God I think I’m going to cry,” I stutter. “But I’m afraid my tears will freeze.”
Atlas tucks me beneath his chin, snow coming down in torrents around us. “Grant says we can use one of their cabins down by the lake for the night.”
“Grant?”
Atlas nods. “He and his brothers-in-arms share a wife a mile down the road. We have a lot to talk about, but the short version is we’ve been working with them to renovate their lodge cabins for a while now. They are also friends with Justice. You’ll love Mercy, their wife.”
High flames lick up the backside of the cabin and the ashes collide with snow. My heart breaks for the loss of such a beautiful night and location.
“Why the tears, butterfly?”
“I’m sad to lose this place and it’s not even mine. Justice will be so sorry to see it in ashes all because of me.”
“Should we tell her?”
Cops rush around us, directing the firefighters. Grant and his buddies pitch in.
“We have an early Christmas present for you.”
“Now?” My eyes widen in surprise. Could there be a worse time?
Atlas pins me against his chest. “We bought this place. Justice signed over the deed the night of our first date at Club Sin.”
I don’t know what to say for several seconds. When I do find my voice, I hurl myself into Atlas’ arms and they pass me around, each hugging me tight, whispered words of love and promises of forever.
“This doesn’t mean I’m marrying you, but you’re getting closer.”
I love teasing my men. Finding the joy of having their love shines a light on the darkness that tried to steal me away from them. Not only the stalker, but our parents too. Love like ours shouldn’t be extinguished all because someone else says it’s wrong. I slide my palms over Brogan’s and Atlas’.
“Let’s help these men save our home, boys.”
