Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(35)

The noise had definitely come from the storeroom, an interior room with only one obvious entry and exit. Jack knew of another, a throwback to the days of Prohibition. A feral grin curled his lips as he slipped into mission mode. He had a decided tactical advantage: he knew the layout, had a hidden entry/exit point, and years of SEAL training and combat experience. The bastard intruder didn’t stand a chance.

And if he’d dared harm a hair on his croie’s head, his death would be excruciatingly slow and painful instead of quick and efficient.

Jack tucked the fear away, a cold, practiced calm settling over him. This was what he knew, what he did best.

He crouched down and moved down the length of the bar until he came to the far end of the shelving, feeling along the wall for the release. When found it, he pressed down. The hidden pocket door slid noiselessly aside, revealing the secret passage.

Blade in hand and at the ready, Jack crept silently down the small corridor toward the entrance to the storeroom. The closer he got, the more clearly he heard someone moving around. Heavy feet shuffled across the dirty floor. A few mutters and grunts preceded the sound of a box hitting the floor, followed by muffled thumps and breaking glass.

The bastard was destroying everything in the store room as well!

Jack stayed low, entering the room in silence and shadow. A large flashlight sat on top of an empty keg barrel, providing the only illumination in the room. A dark mass wrestled with another large box atop a stack of others, cursing.

And, thank God, there was no sign of Kathleen.

“Stupid old man... Thinks he can get away with this... Should have been mine...” Another box fell heavily to the floor. The dark figure stumbled, then howled when some of the contents landed on his foot.

The voice was vaguely familiar; Jack struggled to place it. He knew for certain he’d heard it before, but not often enough to immediately recognize. The words were slurred, as if whoever spoke them had not only been wrecking the inventory, but indulging in it as well.

With a twinge of irritation, Jack realized he wouldn’t be able to kill the intruder in good conscience if he was drunk, but a painful disable was definitely on the agenda.

The dark, shadowy figure moved into his line of sight, little more than a black silhouette. Jack was just standing up to end the guy’s trashing spree and get some answers when another sound had him freezing.

“Don’t move, or I’ll blow yer feckin’ head off.”

Kathleen! Jack’s gaze snapped to the doorway across from the hidden entrance. The glow of the outside streetlamps outlined her wee form; the illumination of the flashlight cast her features in relief. Hair tussled and free, wearing nothing but Jack’s shirt, and levelling a gun at the intruder (his Glock?), she looked like a fierce, avenging angel.

Jack had never seen her look more beautiful. Or been more terrified. He was going to put her over his knee for being so reckless. Right after he held her in his arms and told her how much he fucking loved her.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy demanded.

“I’m the owner,” she said clearly. “And you’re trespassing.”

Pride welled up in Jack’s chest at her words, right along with anger that she’d be foolish enough to take on an attacker by herself, and stark terror that she’d be hurt.

“You’re the owner?” the man asked in disbelief. He scratched his head as if trying to work through that.

Jack could only see his dark silhouette, but it was enough to recognize the shape of the crowbar in the hand not currently raised. From her position at the door, Kathleen wouldn’t see it.

Calling upon his years of training, Jack forced his fear for Kathleen down once again and assessed the situation. Nearly the entire length of the narrow room separated him from his bride. The intruder stood between them with a weapon, within lunging distance. Toppled boxes and broken bottles littered the floor, making stealth difficult.

There was no way for Jack to get around him without making his presence known, but if Kathleen kept the guy’s attention, he could conceivably get close enough to disarm and subdue. Willing her to not do anything stupid, he moved forward with extreme caution.

“Yes, I am,” she answered.

“I thought Jack Callaghan bought this place.”

“Jack Callaghan is my husband.”

Jack’s heart swelled at the way Kathleen spoke those words, with such clarity and conviction. Under other circumstances, he’d be tempted to beat his chest. He was going to show her how much he appreciated that, but it would have to wait until after he took care of this trash.

“And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop your vandalizing,” Kathleen continued. Jack took another careful step, crouching behind the stacks of boxes the bastard hadn’t yet smashed. One more would put him out in the open.

The intruder laughed, a barking, ugly sound that echoed in the small space. “Or what?”

Kathleen didn’t hesitate. “Or I’ll shoot you where you stand and leave you for the paramedics to sort out.”

Shite! Jack wanted her to distract him, not antagonize him. He needed to be just a little closer...

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

The wail of sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder with each breath.

“You called the cops?” the man growled at Kathleen.