22 Austin
Austin
As sappy as it was, I sat on the couch, my hand in Ford’s like we were teenage lovers.
I didn’t hate it.
My body was turned to face him, my knee resting on the couch and head tilted against the back cushion. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Currently, my focus was on his lips as he told me about his horrible dating history.
I hated every single minute of it, but I’d asked for this, so I very well couldn’t change my mind and tell him to stop. I knew what jealousy looked like, and I didn’t want to be that person.
Ford wasn’t mine.
I wasn’t his.
I didn’t even know that I could feel like this until three days ago. I didn’t want to question it too much, at least not yet. For now, I wanted to enjoy this, whatever the hell this was.
Ford and me.
Just… Ford and me.
Nothing to think too deeply into. Nothing to get caught up in. I told myself not to make it complicated, though I knew that wasn’t going to be something I could do for long.
“It was a disaster,” he said, pulling me back in the moment.
Right, he was talking about a date he had with this guy he’d run into at the grocery store and how the man had flirted with him right there in front of the oatmeal. Which, I’d just learned, was the very thing Ford ate for breakfast nearly every morning— oatmeal, not random grocery store guys.
“I don’t know why I even agreed to go out with him,” he said, rolling his eyes, mostly at himself, I figured.
Because you secretly have a soft spot and didn’t want to hurt his feelings,I thought.
Hard to hate the date for that reason alone.
“That was my last attempt at dating.” His smile dimmed.
I wanted to make the smile come back to his face but I didn’t think pointing out how my last relationship had ended would have helped the situation. Besides, it still ached too much. I might not have loved Tessa like a boyfriend should, but I did love her. I cared about her. That love was there in the memories of her that haunted me nearly every day. Same as the guilt. After all, I was the one who brought her into a monster’s home and let her get trapped by him.
“Hey,” he said softly.
I blinked back into focus, finding his face inches from mine. His brow had a deep crease in the middle and his brown eyes were full of concern.
“Sorry,” I said, fighting against the natural instinct to want to pull away. It was woven in my bones to keep distance between people and myself, both physically and emotionally. But I didn’t want to do that with Ford. I didn’t want to pull away. “Dating seems like a nightmare.”
“It can be.” He gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “But it can also be fun.”
He leaned in another inch, his lips so close to mine. I didn’t hesitate to close the small distance between us and press my mouth against his. I could tell by the way his lips went soft and gentle against mine that this wasn’t going to be as heated as it had been before. This wasn’t like the pent-up barn kiss. Or the ones we shared with matching heat in our eyes and dirty thoughts running through our minds. This was saying we had time. Time to savor one another and whatever this was between us.
I pulled away, blinking my eyes open. The smile on my face was real and I didn’t try to hide it this time.
He wore a matching one that I couldn’t look away from. The light of the fire flickered and danced against his skin, making his stubble glow with hints of copper. I ran my thumb over it because it didn’t look real. And I wanted to feel it. A huff of a laugh slipped past my lips as his short hair tickled my skin.
“I normally don’t go this long without shaving,” he told me.
“Maybe you should start,” I teased, but was also being serious because I really liked how it felt.
And because I was a little drunk off of the kiss we’d just shared— and really, just the romantic moment we were sharing in general— I pulled his face closer so I could brush my lips along his stubble. His inhale was sharp, causing me to smirk against his skin. I liked bringing out these kinds of reactions from the stiff, stern agent man.
I kissed the corner of his mouth. His cheek. The curve of his jaw.
His free hand slid up the back of my neck, fingers carding through my hair as he cradled the back of my head.
There was something about this pace that felt right, felt almost freeing.
So I kissed his chin and worked my way around to the other side of his jaw, loving the way his stubble created a push and pull with its prickly sensation that also tickled.
“Austin.” I loved the breathy way my name spilled from his lips.
As a reward— for both him and myself— I brought my lips back to his, taking him in a long kiss that held more passion than anything I’d ever known before. It was slow and beautiful. All it did was make me crave more.
And it had me so lost that it took a long minute to register that something wasn’t right.
“What’s that noise?” Ford asked as he pulled away from my lips. His hands cupped my shoulders. Now he was holding onto me like he’d just realized we were on a sinking ship.
The alarm hit my ears, muted at first. Then it was slicing through my romantic daze at full blast, screaming at me to move.
“Fuck!” I barked as I jumped to my feet.
I fumbled for the remote, clicking on the TV the moment I had it steady in my hand.
The screen filled with different angles of the property.
“Oh, so that’s why you never watched anything on the TV,” Ford said, now standing beside me. I felt his energy change the moment he saw what I saw.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” I said as I counted the three SUVs barreling through the trail that led to the house. “Think they’re FBI?”
“Hmmm. I’ve got a feeling they aren’t.”
“Same,” I said the prickle of danger crawling up my spine. I rushed to the front door, checking the lock even though I knew it was already bolted. I shoved my feet into a pair of boots.
“How long until they get here?” he asked, eyes narrowed on the screen like he was trying to make out how many people were in the incoming SUVs.
“Five minutes,” I answered, hoping we had that much time.
“Got any weapons?”
“Yep,” I said moving to the bookshelves in the corner of the room.
Panic and lack of time had me carelessly shoving the one behind the stairs out of the way, causing trinkets and photo frames to rock and tip and crash to the ground. This wasn’t the time to cry over losing the things decorating the shelves. My fingers worked over the keypad on the wall, relieved when it beeped and the light turned green on the first try. I pressed my thumb against the scanner. The narrow door on the wall popped open, revealing an area the size of a small closet and a set of stairs leading down. To the left was a decent-sized arsenal. I grabbed two handguns, then slid new clips in before shoving them into my pants. Then I loaded my pockets up with extra ammo. Damn, today wasn’t the day for wearing jeans. If only I’d put on a pair of cargo work pants. I pulled a shotgun off the wall and managed to grab two knives with one hand.
“Take anything,” I told him, even knowing I wasn’t going to let him fight this fight. I had to get him in the room.
I stepped out to give him enough space to get what he needed. Blocking the doorway, I slid the knives into my boots, one in each shoe. Then I sent a text to Reed letting him know we had been compromised.
“It had to have been Violet,” I said, unhappy that I hadn’t seen this coming.
I turned to look at Ford when he didn’t say anything.
There was something on his face I couldn’t read.
“No,” he said with a shake of his head, then shoved a clip into the gun in his hand. “He didn’t give me up. If they found me, it’s because they were watching him closer than he thought.”
“Okay,” I said because there was no time to argue.
“What now?” Ford asked, staring at me as if he was waiting for me to tell him the plan.
I pointed to the set of concrete stairs behind him that led to my grandpa’s bunker and a secret passage to the barn.
When Ford raised a brow at me, I shook my head.
“Off limits,” I said as a joke. Mostly because there was no time to explain.
“Austin.” He tried to be serious as he turned to face me.
“Follow the yellow tunnel in the back. It will lead you to the barn where there’s a covered ATV. Key’s under the seat.” I grabbed his shirt and, in a dramatic fashion, pulled him in for a searing kiss. “Weave through the woods and head northwest. You’ll reach the river, where you should find a dock and a boat. Tell me you know how to operate a motorboat.”
“I do,” he said swallowing hard. “Do you not?”
“I do,” I said, sadness pulling down the corners of my lips. We were out of time. “Stay. Alive.”
“Austin,” he said as my words sunk in, and then his lips turned into a frown.
I pushed him away, watching with panicked eyes as he stumbled back a few steps and came close to tumbling down the stairs. Luckily, he caught himself at the last second. He looked ready to charge at me.
But it was too late.
I slammed the door closed, placing my thumb against the fingerprint reader and then hitting the lock button.
The muffled yell of my name had me nearly breaking down in tears.
With a shake of my head, I pushed the bookshelf back into place.
The front door burst in as I was headed to the front of the stairs.
I was completely fucked. Out in the open and alone.
They had helmets, body armor, and semi-automatics.
I had… the stuff you find when starting a survivalist video game.
Shit. I had shit.
The one advantage I had was I knew this house like the back of my hand and everything in it.
I barely had time to duck down behind the couch before the person in the doorway started spraying bullets. If I’d had a moment to think, I would have been super pissed that they fucked up the one place I had good memories from my childhood. It went silent, so I thought it was the perfect time to pop up from behind the couch and fire off a couple of shots.
Might have had ninety percent of their body covered, but not much is gonna help you if you get shot through the eye.
They dropped like a sack of potatoes and the next person walked right over them, handgun aimed right at me.
Duck and roll, that was about my only option. I had to keep them guessing if I wanted to stay alive.
Several sets of boots now pounded over the hardwood floor. They weren’t even trying to be stealthy. The moment I saw the butt of the handgun coming from the side of the couch, I used one hand to push the gun up. A shot fired into the ceiling, deafening me temporarily. We struggled until I had him backed into a wall. He let out a grunted noise as he attempted to get the upper hand.
Another shot went off, the wall to my left, shattering in a way that suggested someone behind me had a shotgun.
I grabbed the straps of his bulletproof vest and flipped us before he knew what was happening. Another shot went off, and with a wide-eyed, slacked-jawed look, he fell limp in my hands.
Dropping the dead body I’d just used as a shield, I ran at the man holding my damn shotgun, pissed that he thought it was okay to put his hands on my shit. I ducked low, using my weight to hit him in the stomach. He let out a breath of forced air as we went down, his head landing in the fireplace. The screams that soon followed weren’t ones I’d be able to get out of my head for a while. As he attempted to scramble out of the flames, forgetting that he was supposed to be fighting me, I took the opportunity to stand. It didn’t take much as I brought my foot down, snapping his neck against the brick surrounding the fireplace.
The prickle of danger tickled the back of my neck. I grabbed the iron fire poker as I whirled around. My head snapped to the side as I took a punch to the face.
“Fuck,” I spit out.
If I wasn’t mad before, I was now.
Then I reminded myself that I didn’t matter. As long as Ford made it out safe, then I’d take a few more punches.
I just wanted to make it out of this alive so I could know that he was okay.
With that on the forefront of my mind, I was willing to do anything I had to.
I slid to the side and swung the poker at his neck, stunning him enough for me to readjust my position. He swung at me again, and I ducked, taking the opening to thrust the poker into his armpit, getting a good two inches of it in before I had to let go. The man was swinging wildly, so I figured I’d help him out by grabbing the end of the poker and pulling it back. Now he was squirting blood while screaming like it was the end of the world.
I suppose it probably was for him. Think I might have hit an artery.
As he dropped to his knees, I reached down and pulled the handgun from his hip. He was gonna die, but it was likely going to take a few minutes until he bled out. So, I helped him out again by putting a bullet between his eyes.
This place was going to be a bitch to clean up.
Putting that thought out of my mind, I took one look at the four men who had stumbled into the house and ran for the kitchen. The door to the mud room burst open like a damn giant had plowed through it.
I hid against the wall, waiting for the first person who stepped into the kitchen. Once I saw the barrel of a gun, I knew there was an outstretched arm far behind. My hands went around the forearm, finding it much bigger than I had anticipated. This dude clearly didn’t skip arm day.
Acting quickly, I pulled, throwing the pile of muscle disguised as a man off balance. Then I twisted until his arm was behind him, bringing him to his knee with a pained grunt. I continued twisting his arm until I heard the sickening crack. I loosened my grip enough to swing his arm around the right way, then snapped it over my leg for good measure.
Fucker wouldn’t be shooting anyone any time soon.
I didn’t hesitate to rip the knife from my boot and slice his throat, the blade so sharp it nearly cut to the bone.
Let me rephrase that, fucker wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.
I looked up just in time to see the barrel of a gun as it flew at my face. One crack between my eyes and I was pretty sure my nose was broken. The river of blood I felt flowing down a second later told me I was likely right.
The world went woozy, or maybe that was my head. I blinked against fuzzy vision, then brought my knife down on the blurry figure dancing in front of me. Maybe they weren’t actually dancing, more like weaving and dodging. They grunted as I made contact near their collarbone right above where their protective vest rested. Someone got me from behind. An arm slipped around my neck and I was barely aware of it until I felt the strain of trying to pull in air. It was all over, though I kept fighting. Think I nailed someone in the stomach as I kicked my legs wildly.
Knife,my brain reminded me as my vision went black.
The arm around my neck wasn’t giving up and the solid form behind me didn’t even feel like it was struggling.
Using the last of my strength, I bent over, hauling the boulder of a man behind me up, all the while, wishing I would have bulked up like Dune instead of trying to keep a leaner frame so I could still fit into my favorite jeans. The tips of my tingling fingers brushed over the cool handle of my hunting knife. Thank fuck I stuffed one in each boot.
I couldn’t say what happened next. I was basically well on my way to passing out as I dumbly stabbed in the area of my neck, praying I hit something other than me.
The hold released on my neck and I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Even as my vision stayed black and I choked as I gasped for air, I vowed I wasn’t done.
No, I wouldn’t let this be the end.