could be wrong but— Michael started to say something that night before those men came back from the basement.”
“What did he say?” Lijah deliberately kept his voice level and calm so as not to alarm her.
She gave a shake of her head. “I’ve tried so hard to forget that night, but those three names…” She looked up at Lijah. “Michael told me to keep calm, to just do what the man said, and I would be safe. Then he said— I thought he said ‘get that bastard to stop,’ but I realize now it could also have been—”
“Have been what, Callie?” he prompted sharply.
“Shh.” She tensed, turning toward the back door. “Did you hear that?” she hissed in a whisper, eyes wide.
“Hear what? Look—” Lijah broke off as he heard what Callie must have heard. The noise was barely audible, but there was definitely something or someone moving around at the back of the house.
“A cat, do you think?” Callie looked at him hopefully as she continued to keep her voice to a whisper.
If it was, then Lijah hoped it still had at least one of its nine lives left as he slipped his hand under a pile of the papers and pulled out the .44 Magnum.
“You had it with you all the time.” Callie stared accusingly as she saw the gun in Lijah’s hand.
“And it’s loaded,” he confirmed grimly, the gun feeling so easy in his hand, it was like a part of his body. “Here, take this.” He reached down for the smaller gun he kept in his boot.
There was the sound of something falling with a crash outside. One of the huge pots of flowers on the patio? Probably. And Lijah very much doubted a cat was strong enough to knock one of those over.
Not a cat, then. Which could only mean that some one was out there. Someone who knew that he and Callie were inside? If so, they weren’t being very subtle in their approach.
Maybe they didn’t need to be? If there were more than a couple of them, then they might just hope to overwhelm Lijah with numbers before he had the chance to take them all out.
“Move out into the cupboard under the stairs,” he instructed Callie softly. “And whatever happens, don’t show yourself until I come and get you.” He moved stealthily across the kitchen to press back against the wall beside the door, gun raised in readiness.
Her eyes were huge pits of fear in the pallor of her face as she stood slowly to do as he instructed. So maybe he hadn’t blown it completely earlier with his caveman behavior? “What about you?”
“Never mind me— Get down!” Lijah warned her harshly as the back door suddenly swung open, his gun raised as a shadow loomed darkly in the doorway before staggering into the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Callie screamed as her father pitched forward, his legs collapsing beneath him as he fell and then rolled onto his back on the kitchen floor, an ominous dark stain visible on the front of his shirt.
Chapter 8
Callie dropped the gun to rush across the kitchen and fall onto her knees beside her father. “Daddy! Oh God, Daddy!” She sobbed as she desperately grabbed hold of one of his hands.
“Callie?” He gave a pained groan as he stared up at her in disbelief, his face ashen beneath the several days of stubble that darkened his jaw. “Is that really you?”
“She’s here with me, Peter.” Lijah picked up and replaced the gun in his boot before moving down onto his knees on the other side of the older man, taking in and assessing Peter’s condition at a glance.
Wound to the chest. Left side. Several days old, going by the darkness of the bloodstain on the other man’s shirt.
So not good.
Peter looked at him blankly for several seconds, as if he wasn’t sure who Lijah was or what he was doing here. Then his brow cleared. “Clever, Callie,” he breathed softly, smiling through his pain. “You went to Dair Grayson, just like I told you to.”
“Just like you told me to.” She gripped his hand tightly in both of hers now. A hand that was stained with the same
“What did he say?” Lijah deliberately kept his voice level and calm so as not to alarm her.
She gave a shake of her head. “I’ve tried so hard to forget that night, but those three names…” She looked up at Lijah. “Michael told me to keep calm, to just do what the man said, and I would be safe. Then he said— I thought he said ‘get that bastard to stop,’ but I realize now it could also have been—”
“Have been what, Callie?” he prompted sharply.
“Shh.” She tensed, turning toward the back door. “Did you hear that?” she hissed in a whisper, eyes wide.
“Hear what? Look—” Lijah broke off as he heard what Callie must have heard. The noise was barely audible, but there was definitely something or someone moving around at the back of the house.
“A cat, do you think?” Callie looked at him hopefully as she continued to keep her voice to a whisper.
If it was, then Lijah hoped it still had at least one of its nine lives left as he slipped his hand under a pile of the papers and pulled out the .44 Magnum.
“You had it with you all the time.” Callie stared accusingly as she saw the gun in Lijah’s hand.
“And it’s loaded,” he confirmed grimly, the gun feeling so easy in his hand, it was like a part of his body. “Here, take this.” He reached down for the smaller gun he kept in his boot.
There was the sound of something falling with a crash outside. One of the huge pots of flowers on the patio? Probably. And Lijah very much doubted a cat was strong enough to knock one of those over.
Not a cat, then. Which could only mean that some one was out there. Someone who knew that he and Callie were inside? If so, they weren’t being very subtle in their approach.
Maybe they didn’t need to be? If there were more than a couple of them, then they might just hope to overwhelm Lijah with numbers before he had the chance to take them all out.
“Move out into the cupboard under the stairs,” he instructed Callie softly. “And whatever happens, don’t show yourself until I come and get you.” He moved stealthily across the kitchen to press back against the wall beside the door, gun raised in readiness.
Her eyes were huge pits of fear in the pallor of her face as she stood slowly to do as he instructed. So maybe he hadn’t blown it completely earlier with his caveman behavior? “What about you?”
“Never mind me— Get down!” Lijah warned her harshly as the back door suddenly swung open, his gun raised as a shadow loomed darkly in the doorway before staggering into the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Callie screamed as her father pitched forward, his legs collapsing beneath him as he fell and then rolled onto his back on the kitchen floor, an ominous dark stain visible on the front of his shirt.
Chapter 8
Callie dropped the gun to rush across the kitchen and fall onto her knees beside her father. “Daddy! Oh God, Daddy!” She sobbed as she desperately grabbed hold of one of his hands.
“Callie?” He gave a pained groan as he stared up at her in disbelief, his face ashen beneath the several days of stubble that darkened his jaw. “Is that really you?”
“She’s here with me, Peter.” Lijah picked up and replaced the gun in his boot before moving down onto his knees on the other side of the older man, taking in and assessing Peter’s condition at a glance.
Wound to the chest. Left side. Several days old, going by the darkness of the bloodstain on the other man’s shirt.
So not good.
Peter looked at him blankly for several seconds, as if he wasn’t sure who Lijah was or what he was doing here. Then his brow cleared. “Clever, Callie,” he breathed softly, smiling through his pain. “You went to Dair Grayson, just like I told you to.”
“Just like you told me to.” She gripped his hand tightly in both of hers now. A hand that was stained with the same
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