The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(31)

Everything went quiet. All Morgan could hear was the sound of her breath rushing in and out and the blood pounding in her ears. Time flew away as she waited for something to happen…anything. Fear threatened to drive her mad.

A floorboard on the other side of the wall she was tucked against groaned.

They were out there. Barinov’s men. Looking for her.

Of course, she knew that they weren’t just going to come fire a storm of bullets through the window and then take off. These men had come with a job to do, and they weren’t going to leave until it was done.

Morgan bit hard into her lip as the bedroom door creaked. She heard a foot fall… and then another. A muffled whisper in a language that she didn’t understand.

Seconds ticked by. One after another.

Morgan’s eyes were fixed on Ty who was steady as a rock in his position in front of the door.

There was another whisper…another flurry of footsteps, retreating this time…

And then a blast ripped through the wood of the closet a foot above her head. Three more followed in quick succession.

Morgan fell over on her side, and pulled her knees in tight. In a million years, she would have never guessed this would be the way that she would go out—cowering naked on a hot guy’s closet floor.

She looked over at Ty. He hadn’t even flinched.

He stayed crouched like a cat, ready to pounce. What was he waiting for? Another volley of shots? Apparently three wasn’t enough to cause concern.

If bullets didn’t scare him, what the hell did?

Suddenly, the shaft of light from the door was blocked. Morgan’s eyes focused on a heavy black boot on the floor. She was too terrified to look up.

The hinges creaked as the door opened an inch.

That, apparently, was what Ty was waiting for.

There was a flash of brilliant light as he fired. The man outside the door immediately crumpled to the ground. Now, instead of boots, all Morgan saw was the small red dot in the center of his crisp white shirt.

Morgan covered her mouth. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she had the breath to scream.

Shouldn’t there be more blood, she thought.

Of course not.

His heart had to beat for him to bleed, and it already stopped. One well-trained shot from Ty, and the assassin was dead before he hit the floor.

Ty turned his head toward her.

“Stay here,” he said before leaping to his feet and rushing through the closet door.

Morgan nodded even though Ty was long gone. Where did he think she was going to go? By her count there was still at least one other gunman out there. But that didn’t mean that she was just going to curl up in the fetal position and wait for death to come to her.

Well…not anymore, at least.

Morgan forced herself up into a sitting position and looked around in the dim light of the tight space for something to defend herself with. There wasn’t much—a few pairs of shoes, a football, a suitcase. She spotted a wooden baseball bat in the corner.

She scooted over and grabbed it. She held it out in front of her like a club as she rose to her feet. Deep down, she knew the bat wouldn’t do her much good in a gunfight, but what the hell. Better to go out swinging than weeping.

The apartment was quiet again, and Morgan’s fingers started to tremble on the grip tape. She tightened her hold and waited. She kept her eyes focused on the bright slip of sunlight beyond the door and counted her breaths.

One…

Two…

Thr—

The sharp crack of gunfire filled the apartment.

One shot. Then nothing.

Morgan couldn’t breathe. Her lungs had stopped working. Had Ty shot the intruder, or had he been shot? There was no way of knowing. She listened for some kind of clue—Ty calling out to her, more Russian whispers, anything—but there was only silence.

What if Ty was out there, bleeding on the floor, needing her help? She couldn’t bear the thought.

Morgan lightly poked the closet door with the bat. It swung open another inch… then another.

She still didn’t hear anything.

She risked a step forward and peeked her head around the door.

The room was empty.

Well, except for the corpse on the floor.

Taking care not to look at his face, Morgan stepped over his limp legs and out into the room. She thought for a second about calling out Ty’s name, but stopped herself. On the off chance that Ty wasn’t the one who had taken the shot, it was probably better not to bring attention to herself.

She tiptoed toward the bedroom door. She was only a foot away when it flew open.

This time, Morgan did scream. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she lunged forward like a madwoman, the bat held high above her head.

She crashed hard into Ty’s body and he stumbled backwards, smashing into the wall. His arms wrapped around her middle, steadying her. Morgan instantly let go of the bat. It clattered on the floor behind her.

“Ty!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. She didn’t realize she was crying until she choked back the sobs trying to speak. “You’re alive.”

“And you’re not in the closet,” he said. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I heard the gunshot. I didn’t know if you were hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he said, smiling at her. He brought a hand to her face and wiped away her tears. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”