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Before I can back out of the closet, she smashes her palms against my cheeks and pulls my head down until my lips collide with hers. The kiss is short, but hard, with a hint of desperation.
“Please be careful,” she whispers against my lips. “You better come back to me in one piece with not even a scratch, or I’m going to kick your ass.”
If the situation were different, I might have smiled at her demand. But since it isn’t, I drop a peck on her lips. “You got it, baby.” I step back and close the closet door.
When I hear Cat lock the door, I silently move across the bedroom floor and grab a t-shirt from the hamper. It’s still dark outside, but my eyes have long since adjusted. The door, which is mostly closed, doesn’t so much as creak as I pull it open and peer out into the hall. With the alarm blaring, I can’t hear shit, so I rely on sight as I move down the hall. The doors to the kids’ rooms are still closed, so I move past them and check the spare bath, the linen closet, and the guest bedroom. I pause at the top of the stairs for a moment before I slowly take them one at a time.
The entryway to the front door is only a few feet away from the bottom of the stairs, so I go there first to shut the alarm off. The sudden silence is deafening. I hold still for a moment, listening intently for any sounds that don’t belong. The only sound I hear is the whirl of the ceiling fan in the living room and the low hum of electricity.
Instinct tells me that Cat and I are the only ones in the house, but I still check every room and every window with the gun loaded and ready to shoot any fucker I see. Nothing is out of place.
Frustration slides through my limbs as I make my way back through the house toward the stairs. As I reach the bottom one, there’s a loud knock on the door. I peer through the peephole, not surprised to see two uniformed officers on the other side. Flipping the safety back on my gun, I slip it into the waistband of my jeans before pulling the door open.
“Hello, officers,” I say.
I recognize Officer Spiel from my few visits to the police department. The other, who looks too young to be wearing a badge, I’ve never met before.
“Good morning, Mr. St. James. I’m Officer Spiel and this is Officer Lanson. We’re here as a courtesy visit. Monroe Security said the alarm at this address went off and when they tried to call to inquire about it, there was no answer. They notified us immediately.”
I lost faith in the River Heights Police Department when they failed to inform me of Henry Stephens’s release. Seeing them on my doorstep right now doesn’t help my opinion, but at least they’re doing something right.
Even though I don’t want them in my house, I still step back and gesture with my arm, “Come inside.”
Officer Spiel looks around as I lead them into the living room, his eyes alert. “Did the alarm trip by accident or was there an intruder?” he inquires. Based on the way he stands and the tenseness of his body, I can tell he’s ready to act if necessary.
“I don’t know if someone was in the house or not, but there was at least an attempt to come inside. My wife and I were asleep when the alarm went off, so it wasn’t accidentally tripped.” Spiel stiffens, his eyes darting around the room. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I left my wife in our bedroom closet while I looked around. I need to let her know everything is okay. I’ve checked each room and nothing seems to be missing or disturbed, but you’re more than welcome to check yourself.”
While I’m confident that if there was a person in the house, they’re not anymore. The sooner the police check it themselves, the easier it will be to get rid of them.
I take the stairs two at a time and walk swiftly down the hall to the master bedroom. My knuckles rap against the door of the closet. “Cat, it’s me.”
The words barely leave my lips before the door is thrown open and Cat is throwing herself into my arms, shoving her face into my chest. My grip on her is just as tight.
“Did you find anything?” she asks, pulling back to look up at me.
“No. But the police are here. The alarm company called them when I didn’t answer my phone.” I look across the room to the nightstand, where my phone still sits.
Her head jerks up and down as she exhales a shaky breath. It is astounding how much this woman can endure and still remain sound of mind.
As much as I hate to bring up a subject that could upset her, the incident tonight proves I need to address it. It’s something we need to discuss. For her safety, I have to take the chance and believe she can handle what I throw at her. She needs to understand the extent of the danger she’s in.
But that can come later. Right now, we need to get back downstairs.
I dip my head and press a kiss against her lips. “Put some clothes on, baby.”
As she does that, I grab my phone and check the screen, seeing two missed calls from Monroe Security. I pocket the device and wait by the door for Cat. A few minutes later, we walk out together. As we pass Ryder’s room, Cat stops. I turn to her, seeing a frown forming on her face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Hesitantly, her hand lifts and she sets her palm on the white door. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right,” she answers so quietly I barely hear her words. “Something isn’t right behind this door.”
I stiffen, and the hand I have wrapped around hers impulsively pulls Cat until she’s behind me. The only two rooms I didn’t check were this one and Eliana’s. Considering how close they are to our bedroom, an intruder would be foolish to hide there. Besides, if anyone did come into the house, they didn’t have time to make it up the stairs and into one of the rooms before the alarm went off, and I was out of the master bedroom checking the house.
As I open the door, my other hand moves to my back to grip the gun, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice. A sudden rush of cold air hits me, sending a chill running down my spine. My eyes move to the window when the red and blue Captain America curtains billow.
The fucking window is open. Cat doesn’t come in here, so I know it wasn’t her who opened it. We’re on the second floor, and there aren’t any trees close enough to the window that someone could climb up or down. There’s no way someone could have broken into the house, made it up to this room, opened the window, and made it back down the stairs before I left the bedroom. The only logical explanation—and this shit has my blood boiling—is that they disarmed the alarm when they broke in, stayed in the house doing God knows what, while we slept, and then purposefully set off the alarm when they left.
Motherfucking hell.
