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He was still reeling from the decision he never thought he’d get to make when he heard it.
The ping of an alarm sensor going off and then the automated voice alerting him that an intruder had made it onto the grounds.
Maker eased out from under Lizzie, tagged his phone from the nightstand, and went into the closet, hitting a panel that was hidden behind some of his shirts.
A secret door opened, and Maker stepped into the safe room that was about the same size as the walk-in closet.
A muffled gasp made him turn around.
Lizzie stood in the doorway, hand over her mouth and eyes wide.
“What’s this?” she whispered.
Maker imagined what it would look like to someone who didn’t know who he really was. And what he could really do.
“This is the safe room. Nobody can get into the house, but if shit ever goes down outside, and I’m not here, this is where you wait for me.”
Lizzie nodded, eyes still roaming the room, “Okay.”
“Now, close the door and come here.”
Maker sat at the command center console in an oversized chair with video monitors taking up half of the wall in front of him.
Fingers flying over the keyboard, he snagged snapshots from the video feed and sent them to Stash and Rooster over in Savannah.
Lizzie stepped up beside him, and Maker rolled the chair and pulled her into his lap, her ass snuggled into his hips.
Looking over her shoulder, he reached around her and went back to work on the keyboard.
Lizzie pointed to a monitor, “Who’s that?”
Maker kept with the snapping images and sending.
“Not sure yet.”
He nudged his phone, “Go into my contacts and call Gate.”
Lizzie picked up the phone and swiped the screen. “You don’t have a lock on your phone?”
“Getting into my phone won’t do anybody any good. Now call Gate for me.”
Lizzie pressed for the call and then speaker and held the phone where Maker could see it and the monitors too.
The phone rang twice and then Gate’s growl came over the line, “Since it’s the middle of the fucking night, I assume this isn’t a social call.”
“Got men, counting three so far, trying to get inside my house.”
“You kill em’?”
“Lizzie’s here.”
“Gotcha,” Gate said. “Axe’s spot’s still empty. Somebody trying to take you out and make a play for it?”
“Not sure yet,” Maker answered. “I sent some surveillance footage to Stash and Rooster. They’ll be quicker than me if you don’t mind extending the help.”
“Not at all. Keep your girl safe. And if you need a place, for either of you, you know you’ve got one.”
“Thanks, brother,” Make said and ended the call.
