Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(81)

Knowing Enoch would be back any minute with the pastries, she decided to hurry Leese along. She wanted him to see the kitchen all spiffed up before she got it messy with crumbs.

She started down the hall and a noise at the door made her pause.

Not the intercom, and not a knock. Curious, she looked toward the door, listening.

The doorknob moved.

Instincts rioted but, undecided, she took one step toward the door. It was probably Enoch, probably fine.

She was still safe.

No.

No, she wouldn’t take that chance. Not with Leese in the shower, naked, unprepared...

With fear steadily building, she back-stepped, one foot behind the other, until the door started to open. Alarm bells clanged in her brain and, breathless, she turned to run silently for the bedroom. Her sock-covered feet didn’t make a sound, and she didn’t call out.

Timing was everything, she knew that.

She needed a weapon, and she needed to alert Leese.

Slipping into the bedroom and slowly closing the door, trying to lock it without the ridiculously loud click, she secured them the best she could. Next she dived for the nightstand and her gun.

Thank God she kept it fully loaded.

In a few long strides, she opened the bathroom door, strode to the shower and turned off the water.

Leese took one look at her face, then at the gun she held, and without a sound he comprehended it all. Wasting no time, he stepped out of the shower. Bypassing the towel, he grabbed her arm and drew her back into the bedroom, pushing her down beside the bed to keep her concealed. As hushed whispers came down the hall, he snatched his own gun off the nightstand, but also his cell.

Sliding his thumb across the screen, he unlocked it, pressed a button and handed it to her. With a finger to his mouth, he warned her to silence.

Cat saw that the phone was dialing, but who? The building was all but empty. Even Enoch was off buying treats.

Crouched there on the floor, her heart in her throat, Cat set the phone aside and braced her gun over the bed.

She was as ready as she could be, but the dreaded moment—a moment she’d prepared for the best she could—rattled her even more than she’d ever expected.

When Leese shifted, her gaze went to him. Naked, water trickling down his powerful body, he seemed rock-steady, determined to defend her against unknown threats.

Dear God, have I waited too long to tell him everything?

Giving her a silent order, he pressed down on her head, wanting her to stay entirely hidden, then he moved around the bed and silently positioned himself behind the door. Unlike her, he held the gun only in his right hand, lowered to his side with the barrel aimed at the floor.

He didn’t look at her again, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from him.

Hurting in her heart, Cat prayed they’d make it through this.

Someone tried the doorknob, and when it didn’t open, a laugh sounded.

“You can lock the door, girl, but we’re coming in anyway.”

Both she and Leese stayed silent, her shaking with fear, him loose and prepared as the door exploded, kicked open with a lot of force.

Cat got one look at a big man, grinning with sick delight as he stepped into the room...

Then with double the force, Leese kicked the door back into his face. Blood spurted from his crushed nose, and the man staggered until he hit the hallway wall hard and slumped to the floor.

Barking a foul curse, a second man lifted his gun. Leese caught his wrist quickly, and keeping the man’s gun aimed at the ceiling, jerked him into the room and against the door to close it. The guy fired off several shots before Leese snapped his wrist and the gun fell.

The noise was deafening—gunshots, shouts of pain, the cracking of bone.

Leese didn’t stop with mangling the man’s arm. He punched him hard in the throat, kneed him in the groin, then kicked his knee. The man’s leg buckled backward and he went down, his face blue, his eyes bulging, his body distorted.

No longer a threat.

The gruesome damage made Cat’s stomach pitch. So much violence, happening so quickly and effortlessly on Leese’s part. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe past the noise and motion and the fear, so much thick, consuming fear.

Her heart punched frantically with the need to somehow help, but at the same time, she saw him handling things with frightening efficiency.

He’d completely disabled the first man without firing a single shot—but not in enough time to completely protect himself.

The man with the smashed nose dived back into the room, already firing his gun before he’d landed. The shot hit Leese in the side, knocking him back, and Cat watched in horror as blood splattered on the wall, bloomed from the wound and snaked down his side.

The cry of outrage strangled in her throat. She didn’t recall standing, didn’t realize that she’d taken aim until she fired.

Not once, not twice, but over and over. Driven by pure reaction, she squeezed the trigger until she ran out of bullets and heard only empty clicks.

“Cat, it’s okay.” Leese’s hand, warm and firm, curled around her wrist. “He’s done. Let up now.”

She stared ahead, seeing the carnage, the motionless bodies of the men who’d attacked. So much blood, so many bullet holes...

“Baby, it’s okay.”

She sucked in air on a sob. “I killed him?”

“No. You shot him in the shoulder and then I took him out. The rest of the bullets hit the wall.”