A hoot of laughter echoed around the hall. It was caustic, hitting Mason’s ears like acid. Before he could blink, the evil black eye of the assault rifle slid from his chest to aim into the room behind him.
He heard Alex gasp like she’d been slapped. All the blood drained from his head, leaving him dizzy, because…
Game over.
He’d never had an Achilles’ heel before.
He had one now.
Her name was Alexandra Merriweather. And despite all the reasons why she shouldn’t, she loved him. He’d never be able to live with himself if something happened to her on his watch.
With a harshly whispered “Fuck!” he lowered the AR-15 to the wood-plank floor.
The prick whose finger he broke snatched it up. Using his good hand, the man awkwardly aimed it at Mason’s head, the barrel weaving and swaying.
“Careful,” Mason warned the guy. “Wouldn’t want that to go off.” He glanced from one masked man to the next. “I’m assuming you want me alive or else I’d already be dead.”
“You are not ours to kill,” Shadow Man growled.
“Oh, goody.” Mason’s tone was bored and sarcastic, but his mind was a hurricane, swirling with a million and one thoughts. The topmost being Can I reach my Colt? Probably not before I take a round, he decided.
If it were just him, he’d risk it. But it wasn’t just him.
“Get dressed, woman,” the man in the hall snarled. “Then come with us.”
Mason bent to grab the tank top and pajama shorts she’d worn to his room, and Shadow Man barked, “Do not move!”
He slowly lifted his chin. His eyes were mere slits, but he hoped the asshat could read the truth in them. “You’ll hafta kill me before I’ll letcha make her get dressed in front of you.”
For a couple of seconds, silence reigned. He could tell both men would’ve liked nothing better than to take him up on his challenge. Eventually, however, Shadow Man dipped his chin and Mason tossed Alex her clothes.
She caught them one-handed, using her other hand to keep the sheet pulled up to her chin. Her gaze never left his. Her eyes were pie-plate round, and the skin over her cheeks was so tight he could see the blue of her veins snaking beneath.
“It’s okay, babe.” He infused his voice with more certainty than he felt.
He’d do anything to take away even a fraction of her terror. And given the chance, he was going to kill both balaclava-clad bastards for making her suffer one moment of fear. Well, he’d kill them for that and for whatever they’d done to his friends.
Devastating grief threatened to wash over him like a tidal wave. So he pushed the thought to the back of his head.
Mourning was something a man did after the danger passed and the innocents were safe. Until then, he had to keep his head in the game, his eye on the prize, and wait for an opening that would allow him to gain the upper hand.
It probably wasn’t the smartest move, but he kept his back to the intruders while Alex dressed. Partly because he wanted to make sure she could wrestle into her sleepwear while staying concealed beneath the sheet. The idea of anyone, but especially these cocksuckers, seeing her intimate flesh filled him with a fury so hot it made his lungs burn. But mostly because she seemed to need the reassurance in his eyes.
“Quickly!” Shadow Man shouted impatiently.
“I’m done!” Alex scooted from beneath the covers, and then stood demurely beside the bed, chin down, hands clasped behind her back.
“Come forward!” the man commanded from the hall. Obviously, he was the one in charge. Mason filed that bit of information away for future use.
Alex did as instructed, stopping only when she pulled even with Mason. He turned so they both faced their assailants, and the move had his arm brushing hers.
It broke his heart to find her skin clammy and cold, to feel her fingers stiff with fear when she clasped his hand to…
Those aren’t her fingers, he realized with a start as she stealthily transferred the KA-BAR knife he kept on his nightstand into his hand.
She must’ve palmed it while she was holding up the sheet to get dressed. Trust her to keep her head about her even with a full-auto pointed her way.
Beautiful, brilliant woman, he thought, pride filling his chest.
If he wasn’t in love with her before, he fell a little in love with her right then and there.
“Come out!” Shadow Man commanded. “Slowly. No sudden moves.”
Mason concealed the KA-BAR knife along the length of his forearm by cupping the hilt in the tips of his fingers. He kept his entire arm pressed close to his side, hoping their attackers would mistake his stiffness for fear.
When they made it into the dark hall and down the stairs without the balaclava twins spying his weapon, he heaved a sigh of relief. Shuffling onto the porch, glad to hear Meat still going crazy somewhere close because it meant that his dog was alive and kicking, he watched and waited for one of his enemies to make a false move.
There was a saying in the spec-ops community. The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in combat. He wasn’t as good as Wolf when it came to knife play. But after hundreds of hours of practice, he could certainly hold his own. All he needed was—
The thought screeched to a halt when they were escorted down the front steps and the scene by the hammock met his eyes.
Now he knew what had happened to Uncle John and Chrissy. Two men had taken them hostage. They were on their knees in the sand, arms dangling at their sides, eyes round and reflecting the moonlight as they stared at him in fear.
A thin line of blood trickled from a cut on Uncle John’s forehead.
“Y’okay?” Mason asked, any optimism he’d harbored that he could single-handedly take out their assailants slowly leaking from his ass.
Two against one was doable. But four against one?
He’d spent most of his life weighing the risks and playing the odds. Which meant he knew both were stacked against him. Way against him.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here, he thought, the grip of the KA-BAR no longer a comfort in his hand.
“Gettin’ dumped out of the hammock and held at gunpoint isn’t my favorite way to wake up,” Uncle John said. “But, yeah. I’m fine.”
Mason turned his gaze to Chrissy. All she seemed to be able to manage was a jerky nod.
Alive and mostly unharmed. That’s something.
“On your knees!” Shadow Man ordered, jabbing the end of his rifle hard into Mason’s kidney. Beside him, Alex squeaked when the same was done to her. Mason would swear red edged into his vision.