Page 84 of The Woman with the Warning

“Is he okay?” Claire asked, peeking in the bedroom door.

I gave her a nod, but pressed my finger to my lips. Just in case.

Her eyes widened, but I reached into the hall for her, pulling her into the room, then motioned for her to stay as I went back to the door.

I was trying to convince myself that I was being overprotective, a little paranoid.

But there was no denying the pit in my stomach, the sick sensation moving up my throat, the way my spine was so tense it felt brittle.

Sometimes, you just had a feeling. And it was never a good idea to second-guess your instincts.

In the best case, I was just jumping at shadows. I could laugh it off and go back to bed with Claire.

In the worst, though, this was giving me a chance to catch an intruder unaware. To take them out before they could get anywhere near Claire and Judah.

I winced as one of the floorboards in the hall creaked under my step, cursing myself for not paying attention to shit like that, getting to know the quirks of the house.

I’d been too busy with Claire and Judah to remember that something as small as a squeaky floorboard or a cracked window could be the difference between life and death.

Stop.

I needed to stop.

All I could do now was focus.

And hopefully laugh at myself in a few minutes when it turned out to be nothing.

I made my way past the bathroom, reminding myself that the alarm was set, and there was no beep that said someone had broken a window or picked a lock.

If there even was a threat, it was still outside.

Somehow, though, my anxiety only managed to ratchet up as I ducked down below the open curtains in the dining room, creeping my way toward the kitchen.

Almost done.

Once the inside was gone over, I could call the guard to see if he could do a perimeter sweep.

Then this would all be fucking ov—

My heart surged up into my throat as I rounded the kitchen.

Because there was the sound of footsteps.

I had the home field advantage here. I could move more smoothly in the dark.

But with a gun, my shot would be inaccurate.

Taking a deep breath, I shifted behind the fridge, grabbing the door handle with one hand to pull back for a small bit of cover, then using my other arm to push on the switch, bathing the room in light.

I had to blink at the change in brightness before I leaned out from behind the fridge door, taking aim, and shooting.

Three men.

There were three men in the house.

Were there more?

I could take down three.

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