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“Alex . . . ”
“Move!”
Adrenaline surged through him as he heard Natches screaming, “Get her out. Get her out. ”
He pushed her through the door, the cat tearing at his arm as he heard a window shatter. Then all hell exploded around them.
He felt the force of the blast shake the apartment as the cat jumped from his arm with a squall. Janey screamed as he threw her to the floor.
Searing, brilliant pain lanced his shoulder as he landed on top of her, dragging her beneath his crawling body, fighting to get her to safety as lights flickered, shattered, and the apartment went dark.
He still gripped his cell phone in his hand. He could hear Natches screaming. Blood was gushing down his arm, but Janey was alive.
The living room window had shattered. He had a second. Only a second. He had lifted her and thrown her into the kitchen doorway, to the other side of the wall, when another explosion shook the apartment.
Shrapnel exploded through the wall overhead as he protected her with his own body, curling around her as she screamed his name. He felt something else bury in his shoulder and gritted his teeth against the pain.
Hell, it was Iraq all over again. The explosions, the sound of nails and glass exploding around him, as sirens wailed in the distance.
“Safe,” he yelled into the cell phone, Natches’s screaming voice still echoing from the connection. “What the fuck is going on? I need the outside secured before the son of a bitch throws something through the fucking kitchen window. ”
He dragged Janey across the room and jerked open the pantry closet beside the refrigerator, before shoving her into the narrow entrance and hunkering down beside her. He jerked the fridge door open, sheltering them with the heavier metal barrier rather than the thin wood of the pantry closet door.
“We’re coming. We’re coming. ” Natches was yelling into the phone. “Zeke and the police are on their way. Chaya called from her cell. Fuck. Fuck. Alex, is she okay?”
“Alive,” Alex snapped. “Get me some fucking backup. I’m not taking her out without it and we’re too vulnerable here. ”
He was bleeding like a stuck pig. Alex could feel the blood pouring from the sharp objects buried in the shoulder that he kept turned carefully from Janey’s huddled form.
“Is Janey wounded?” Natches was screaming.
“Negative. ” God, he wished he had a weapon on him. “Natches, get here now. ”
There was silence.
“You’re wounded. ” Natches’s voice was lower. The other man was an asshole when he wanted to be, but he was sharp.
“Confirmed,” Alex breathed out roughly. “Get here, man. I’m unarmed. All weapons are in other areas.
We’re shielded in the pantry closet with no more than the fridge door. I hear sirens approaching, but we don’t know who the hell or what the hell. ”
As he spoke, the back door shattered. Alex braced himself for more trouble. He disconnected the call and waited.
“Major. You in here?” Mark Lessing’s voice sounded from outside the door.
He remained silent, pressing a hand back to Janey in warning. He trusted his men with his own life. He didn’t trust anyone but himself and the Mackay cousins with Janey’s.
“Major, I’m sliding a weapon through. It will move beneath the refrigerator door. ” Mark stayed in place, his voice military cold and efficient. “Clip is loaded. Tyrell and I have the door covered. Here it comes. ”
He waited. A second later the Glock slid to his feet. Alex picked it up carefully, checked the clip.
“Did you catch the bastard?” he called back.
“Negative. We gave chase, but he got away. We came back in case we were needed here. ”
“Mackays are on their way,” Alex told him. “Tyrell, cover the stairs. I’m not moving her until I have clear protection on all sides. ”
The sirens were getting closer. Alex could hear Janey behind him, her breathing erratic. He knew she wasn’t wounded; he’d checked as he held her beneath him and again as he threw her into the closet.
