A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(75)

The last few shots had been in the den, close to the back of the house. She told herself they had come from Grey’s weapon and that he was still alive, that he was okay. He had to be. Grey Justice was invincible. She had never known a cooler head or a better shot.

A noise hit her ears. Footsteps. Heavy-footed ones, their owner trying to be quiet and not succeeding, so she knew they didn’t belong to Grey, who could be as silent as a panther. Scooting on her butt to the edge of the counter, she peered around the corner. Light from a flashlight appeared at the door. Irelyn didn’t wait to see a face. She fired three rounds, heard a pained grunt and then a loud crash as a big body collapsed. She winced, knowing the statue of the goddess Diana that she’d purchased in Greece a few years back hadn’t survived.

Again, there was only silence. She wouldn’t wait much longer. She tried to reassure herself that Grey was okay, but an image of him bloodied and injured kept flashing through her mind. She needed to find him.

Long ago, she’d learned to block out physical pain, and it angered her that she had to grit her teeth to do so now. This was nothing compared to what she had endured in the past. Holding on to that anger, she got to her feet and crept toward the door leading to the dining room. Holding her breath, she stopped and listened intently. Other than the sound of the wind blowing through the broken windows, she heard nothing. She waited a few more seconds and then peeked out.

Death and destruction were all around. One man, dressed in black, lay facedown on the dining room table. Blondish hair stuck out of the end of his skullcap, reassuring her the man wasn’t Grey. Another body lay crossway on the floor between the dining room and a small parlor. He was also dressed in black, but looked to be a mammoth size with a gut to match. Definitely not Grey.

Staying low, she ran to the next doorway, stopped, and listened. Still no human sounds. She looked around the door and jumped back. A man was rounding the corner. The barrel of his gun appeared first. Not one she recognized. She fired a shot. Missed. Rapid fire commenced.

Backing away, she ran back into the kitchen. Standing on the other side of the fridge, she weighed her options. She had four rounds left and then would resort to her secondary weapon, which had fifteen. Once they were gone, it was hand-to-hand with her knife until she could get back to the sanctuary and reload her weapons.

“Irelyn!”

Grey. A lump clogged her throat, and her eyes blurred. He was alive! And from the sound of his voice, he was also royally pissed.

“Yes?”

“You okay?”

“Yes. You?”

Instead of telling her he was okay, he shouted, “I have a question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Marry me?”



Hidden in an alcove beside a bookshelf in the living room, Grey held his breath as he waited for the answer to the most important question he’d ever asked in his life. Proposing in the midst of a gun battle was not the most romantic way to go about such things, but for them, for who they were, this worked perfectly. He and Irelyn were the least traditional people he knew.

He should have asked her long ago and had no good excuse for not making that last permanent commitment. They might have started in darkness, might have spent years fighting their way free of the pain, but she had brought light to his life, warmth to his soul. He could not imagine his life without her. If she said yes, he would spend the rest of his life making sure she knew that.

“Are you crazy?”

Her response was exactly what he’d wanted, with just the right amount of surprise, outrage, and laughter.

“Only about you.”

Another bit of laughter for his cheesy answer, and then she shouted, “Are you all right? You didn’t get hit in the head or something?”

He laughed. Only this woman could make him laugh in the midst of blood and death.

“No. I’m finally thinking straight. So what do you say?”

He held his breath, knowing she was probably both confused and scared. In all their time together, they had never talked marriage. Which was damn crazy. He had never wanted anyone but Irelyn.

“Irelyn?”

“You’re sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything.”

“Then, yes!”

Grinning like an idiot, Grey leaned against the wall and assessed his chances of getting out of here alive so he could marry his woman. He had disposed of seven intruders. By his count, there were at least two more in the house. One was upstairs, stomping around in a guest bedroom. As he’d hoped, the other one was now headed Grey’s way. It would be the man’s last mistake.

Footsteps above him indicated the other guy had heard him, too. One more check of his gun showed him what he already knew. Three rounds left. He’d gotten into a one-on-one with one of the assholes and had dropped one of his weapons. Once he was out of ammo, the Ka-Bar knife would have to do the rest.

He glanced down at the blood soaked cloth he’d wrapped around his hand. Another casualty from the hand-to-hand battle. The guy had managed to slice open his palm. The pain was secondary to the aggravation of not being able to shoot with his dominant hand. He would make do but he was furious all the same. No way in hell were these bastards going to win.

He stood on the other side of the entertainment center. The instant the man entered, he'd be able to see him immediately. Grey leaned forward just a bit. Ah yes, he was coming and quite rapidly. One bullet should do the job. A grizzled-looking face appeared at the doorway. Grey took the shot but the guy ducked at the last second. Grey fired again, winged him on the shoulder but the guy kept coming. Firing his last shot, a hole appeared in the center of his forehead. He was dead before he hit the floor.