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Kain enters from the dining room, back to the wall, and sweeps the space with the barrel of the gun. Empty. He moves to the living room.
The living room feed shows a man in black clothing near the front door.
Kain crosses the room in three strides.
The man turns as Kain’s arm comes up, and the gun connects with the side of the intruder’s head. The man drops.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Kain took the guy down.”
“Good job.” The sound of an engine comes from Rowan’s end of the line. “Stay put until backup arrives.”
On the monitor, Kain pins the intruder stomach-down with a knee in his back. His free hand cups his injured side for a second before he zip-ties the man’s wrists behind him and rises, gun sweeping the room.
Kain checks the front door, secures it, then turns back toward the hallway. Toward the safe room.
On the kitchen feed, a second figure rises from behind the counter.
I lunge for the monitor. “Kain!”
The second man hits Kain from behind, driving him into the wall. Kain’s injured side takes the impact, and his body goes rigid. The gun clatters to the floor.
“No!”
“Reef, what’s happening?” Rowan demands.
My mouth works, but I can’t speak as I watch in horror.
The second man is bigger. Heavier. He wrenches Kain’s arms behind his back and secures them with another zip tie, then drags him toward the living room.
On the living room feed, the first intruder struggles to his knees, shaking his head. The second man shoves Kain down onto the couch and turns to free his partner.
The first man stands, rubbing his temple, and his face contorts. He crosses to Kain and hits him hard across the jaw.
Kain’s head snaps to the side, and blood sprays from his lip.
“Reef,” Rowan snaps through the speaker. “Talk to me.”
“They have him,” I whisper. “Two of them. They zip-tied him. One just hit him.”
“Stay in the safe room.” Rowan’s engine revs in the background. “We’re six minutes out. Do not open the door.”
On the monitor, Kain spits blood and lifts his head. His eyes find the camera mounted in the ceiling corner, and he holds my gaze through the lens.
He mouths two words.
Stay there.
I rest my forehead on the cool metal of the desk and watch my mate bleed.
23
Rowan’s voice keeps buzzing through the speaker, but I can’t process what he’s saying. The monitors hold me captive, where Kain sits slumped forward, blood darkening the split in his lip and running a thin line down his chin.
The lead intruder had moved Kain to one of our dining chairs, his arms behind his back zip-tied to the rungs.
The man is methodical, unhurried, his movements calm. Not someone who panics. The kind of man who’s done this before and knows exactly how long he has.
Kain’s head hangs forward, hair obscuring his features as his chest rises and falls in shallow hitches. Not unconscious yet.
