The door exploded inward with a sharp crack.
Dan didn’t hesitate. He swung with everything he had at the man charging through the doorway, a gun clutched in his hand. The first strike connected with the man’s raised forearm, knocking the weapon loose. It clattered across the floor, out of reach. Dan followed through immediately, the second blow landing square across the man’s face. The impact snapped his head to the side, and he dropped hard, crumpling in the doorway.
Dan held his position, breath coming fast, listening for movement beyond the threshold. Nothing came. No footsteps, no voices—only Jinx’s barking echoing off the walls.
After a few seconds, he stepped forward and crouched, reaching toward the downed man to check for another weapon.
A sharp crack exploded at his temple.
Pain flared white-hot, stealing his balance before he could react. The room tilted, then droppedout from under him. He collapsed forward, landing hard on top of the man he’d just taken down.
Somewhere nearby, Jinx let out a sharp, distressed yelp as everything went dark.
Ignoring the unconscious men and the soft whine of the dog nudging at its fallen owner, Kellerman stepped over the bodies and swept his gaze across the small apartment. Nothing of interest in the main room. His attention landed on a closed door off the living room—likely the bedroom.
He moved toward it with purpose. The knob didn’t budge when he tried it.
This time, he didn’t bother to pick it. He stepped back and drove his heel into the door. The frame splintered as the door flew inward. He shifted immediately to the side, keeping his body out of the opening as he brought his weapon up, ready in case whoever was inside decided to fire.
Silence.
After a few heartbeats, he leaned in enough to look around the jamb but not put himself in the line of fire.
There she was.
Moriah Jensen sat on the far side of the bed, eyes wet, hands wrapped around a revolver. The weapon wavered as she tried to keep it trained on him, the tremor in her arms impossible to miss.
A low laugh slipped out before he could stop it. “Come on out, Ms. Jensen. I just want to talk to you.”
He waited, watching her. She didn’t move.
His patience wore thin, and he let out a long, exaggerated breath. “You’re only making this harder on yourself. All I want is the money and the gun. Once I get what I want, you can walk away from this.”
“You’ll never let me live!”
Irritation flickered through him. He lifted his weapon, the suppressor extending the barrel. He couldn’t kill her—not yet. Not until she told him where the bag was. For now, he would only wound her.
Pivoting on his feet, he prepared to enter the room, keeping the muzzle angled toward where she knelt behind the bed.
He never saw the black Labrador moving in from across the room.
As Kellerman lifted his right foot to step inside, the dog lunged and sank his teeth into his left thigh.
From her position behind the bed, Moriah kept the revolver trained on the doorway, her focus locked on the opening where he stood just out of sight. His voice still echoed in her ears, the threat beneath his words turning her stomach.
Then, suddenly, he stumbled into view with a shout of pain and Jinx clamped onto his leg. The dog’s growl had turned vicious, his body twisting and pulling as he fought to bring the intruder down. The man lurched forward, struggling to stay upright against the dog’s weight, his movements jerky and uncontrolled.
His hand clenched around the gun.
The weapon discharged.
The crack was deafening in the small room as the bullet slammed into the ceiling above her. Plaster dust rained down, and Moriah flinched, her pulse spiking hard enough to make her vision blur.
Focus.
She dragged in a breath, then let it out slowly, as KC had taught her. The world narrowed to the man in the doorway, his body pitching as Jinx fought him.
She didn’t have time to think.
