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But the house had been silent.
There was no beeping.
The alarm hadn’t sounded.
So, either someone had figured out the code—a feat the expert who’d installed the system assured us was damn near impossible.
Or…
Or someone had let them in.
If Claire had made her way all the way into the kitchen without encountering someone else, then there likely weren’t any other guards around.
Except, of course, ours.
Mine.
A growl escaped me.
And, suddenly, I was moving.
Half crawling, half dragging myself across the kitchen, then down the hall.
Sweat beaded my brow, poured down my back, yet I felt almost intolerably cold as I threw myself in front of Judah’s closed door, hearing the comforting—given the situation—sound of his cries within, knowing there was no way in.
Unless someone went through me.
With what little strength I seemed to have left in me, I raised my arm and forced my finger back to the trigger on the gun in my hand.
And waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Thank God.
Because I was pretty sure I didn’t have long left, not with the way my pulse felt hard, yet slow. With the way my mind was going all foggy.
But I heard the steady footsteps.
And there he was.
Our guard.
My man.
I wondered, a bit fleetingly, how much his betrayal had cost.
Not that it mattered.
Because he hadn’t been expecting me.
The second he saw me there, the gun raised, his face fell.
“You don’t understand,” he rushed to insist, trying to raise his hands.
Oh, I understood, alright.
He betrayed the Family, me, and worst of all, Claire and Judah.
