Home front, p.10
Home Front, page 10
It took a moment but finally she whispered, “Yes.”
She might have agreed, but she didn’t move. He still heard her breathing quick and shallow behind him.
“Luna. Do it now, please.”
“What are you going to do?” she breathed.
If he told her what he was going to do, she wouldn’t like it, so all he said was, “I’m going to keep you safe. Go on. Get to the bathroom. Remember to lock the door.”
This time she did leave.
He waited until he heard the door close before he turned and sprinted for his room. He snapped the gun in his hand back in place beneath his pants leg. Then he pulled on his bullet proof vest and swung his gun belt around his hips.
Overkill? Maybe. But no man ever died from being overprepared.
He shoved extra clips in his many pockets then headed out of his bedroom, straight for the windows on the other side of the house by the back door.
The element of surprise was on his side as long as whoever was outside didn’t realize they’d been spotted.
If they were still on the slope side of the house, he could sneak out the door on the driveway side, circle around and get the jump on them.
He didn’t love leaving the house, or Luna alone inside. But he hated the idea of not catching whoever was out there even more.
The coast seemed to be clear for his exit, so he shoved the house key into his pocket so he could lock her inside, and then eased the door open.
Overgrown bushes near entries to a home were usually a security risk. Ask any cop or home security company and they’d say the same.
An overabundance of landscaping, though perhaps attractive, made it easy for criminals to hide from view while they picked a lock or slipped through a window. But it worked both ways.
In this situation, the extra cover helped Kyle sneak out of the door unseen.
He slipped outside into the cool night air and secured the door behind him. Then he froze in place. Not moving. Barely breathing. Simply listening. Tuning in to the natural sounds of the night and searching for any that didn’t belong.
There it was. A noise that was out of place.
Amid the rustle of wind through trees was the steady cadence of footsteps hitting the ground. Crunching on fallen pinecones and needles.
And the sound was getting closer. Coming around the house. Toward him.
Hoping, praying, that Luna would do as told and stay locked in the bathroom so he could do his job, Kyle pressed against the building.
Hidden in the shadow behind the bushes, he’d let the target come to him.
Then he’d put the guy in a head lock and demand an explanation. Or maybe choke him out, zip-tie his hands, then question him when he came to. He hadn’t decided on the exact details yet.
And what if it were someone who was supposed to be here, like a maintenance man or security guard? Easy. He’d apologize, go back inside and text Rudnick that he might be getting an excessive force complaint lodged against him.
If GAPS really was a security company manned by nothing but SEALs, as Blessing had said, it probably wouldn’t be the first time one of them got overzealous on the job.
Better to be wrong by erring on the side of caution than the opposite. In his job, giving unknowns the benefit of the doubt could cost lives.
Luna’s safety was the priority. Rudnick would agree and understand. Not that Kyle cared if he did or not. Let them fire him. This was a temporary assignment. But damn did it feel good to be back in action.
Hell, he hadn’t even felt the slightest twinge in his ankle since seeing that movement in the woods. He might pay for it later and be hurting bad, but right now it was as if he was healed.
Adrenaline was a miracle drug. Too bad it was so damned addictive. He’d missed this rush.
Kyle felt the buzz of it surging through his veins now as the sound of the footsteps got danger close.
Time slowed. His breathing slowed. He didn’t have to think what to do. After years of experience and countless hours of training muscle memory took over. His body moved independent of his conscious thoughts.
When the figure crept around the bush, Kyle reacted. He had the man in a headlock before the yip of surprise escaped him.
He was shorter than Kyle. Heavy but soft. No muscle tone. He was a man who didn’t work with his hands or work out.
A man with no fight in him either. The moment he was captured, he went limp.
“Why are you here?” Kyle demanded close to the man’s ear.
“I—I just want a picture.”
Paparazzi.
He noticed the camera in the man’s hand.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was here for Luna, but just in case, he asked, “A picture of who?”
“Luna—Luna Blue.”
Fuck. That confirmed it. They’d been compromised. But how?
He was about to find out.
Without giving anything away, Kyle asked, “What makes you think Luna Blue is here?”
“Besides the fucking professional hired muscle guarding an off-season ski rental in the middle of nowhere, you mean?”
Smart ass.
“Yeah. Besides that.” Kyle tightened his hold just a bit to show this man who was in control and that it would be best if he kept his smart mouth in check and answered the damn question.
“I got an anonymous tip she was here,” the guy wheezed out as Kyle continued to keep a tight hold on him.
“That she was here on the mountain? Or here in this particular house?” he hissed.
“Got the exact address. Look, buddy. I’m sorry, but I think your girl’s got a leak in her organization.”
He hated to admit it, but this guy might be right.
“So, you, ah, wanna let me go or what?” the bastard photographer asked.
The last thing he wanted to do was let this son of a bitch off scot-free. “I don’t know. I might keep hold of you for a bit. Until I decide if I wanna call security. Or maybe the police.”
The bastard had the gall to snort out a laugh. “Go ahead. Call. I booked a room here. I’m a guest just like you are. I have every right to take a moonlight stroll if I want to.”
“You don’t have a right to take pictures through other guests’ windows,” Kyle responded, barely holding on to his cool.
“What pictures? I got no pictures. Cops can check my memory card if they want to.”
The good news was, Kyle had gotten him before he’d taken any shots of Luna. The bad news was, he had nothing on the guy. The weasel was going to get away with this.
Kyle drew in a breath then released his hold. “You’re leaving. Now. And you’re not coming back near here again, because I don’t really care if you’re allowed to be here or not. I don’t work for the resort. I don’t work for the police. Their rules don’t apply to me.”
The guy spun to face Kyle. His gaze dropped to the gun holster, after skipping past the body armor.
He audibly swallowed as he raised his hands in the air. “You’ll get no argument from me. I’ll, uh, just head back to the city in the morning. You and Luna have a good night.”
With that parting shot, the bastard stepped away, slithering back into the shadows from where he came.
Bullshit he would leave for the city tomorrow now that he knew Luna was here.
Kyle figured the guy wasn’t going to leave until he got a shot of her that he could sell to pay for his trip. Which left the question, how was he going to get Luna out of here without being seen or followed? And there was no doubt in his mind, he was getting her out of here.
Someone had leaked her location. Whether it came from within her own organization or somewhere else, in spite of their precautions, her whereabouts were out.
It wasn’t safe here any longer. He didn’t have the kind of equipment he needed to secure this giant house of glass. He wasn’t sure he could keep her safe. Like it or not, he would have to sleep occasionally. He needed back-up.
He’d have to update Rudnick on this new development. He needed an exfil plan and he needed it now. But that was just the beginning.
Once he got her out of this house and off this mountain—unseen by any lurking paparazzi because who knew how many more there were—he needed someplace to take her.
But before all that, he needed to tell Luna.
fifteen
Luna frantically searched the bathroom. What could she use as a weapon if she needed one?
If something happened to Kyle, if whoever was out there in those woods got inside the house—inside this room—how could she defend herself?
Her gaze hit upon the lid on the back of the toilet tank.
Shaking, she tried lifting it. It was heavy. Too heavy. But she was desperate. She had to adjust her grip to pick it up.
Not the ideal weapon, but it was all she could find. Whacking the intruder with a rolled bath towel wouldn’t do much good. Neither would threatening him with her lady razor.
She eyed the door. It opened in. If the intruder came through it, where should she and her big unwieldy weapon be standing?
Would it be better for her to be on the opening side? That seemed too exposed. How could she hide from view there, especially with the big white toilet tank lid in her hands?
Behind the door provided her with more cover and a chance to sneak up behind the intruder. But if they kicked in the door and she were behind it, it would hit her. Hard. Smashing her between the door and the wall. Possibly injuring her and definitely breaking her porcelain weapon. Then what?
Dammit. These were the things she didn’t know, and that ignorance could cost her life.
Forget cooking. Kyle needed to teach her how to protect herself. How to think like he did. She could order in food or pay a cook, but self-defense—that was a skill worth having.
Maybe she should hide in the shower? But shower stalls made her twitchy ever since the incident in the hotel in Albany.
Scenes from every horror movie she’d ever seen flew through her head. How she’d watch the characters make one wrong decision after another.
It was easy to know the right thing to do as an observer sitting safely on the sofa. But now, in the midst of the real-life action, she was the stupid girl who did all the wrong things and ended up dead.
“Luna.”
She jumped at the sound of Kyle saying her name. She’d never been so happy to hear his voice.
Reluctant to put down her only weapon, she leaned closer to the locked door. “Is it safe?”
“Yeah. Open up.”
She hesitated. What if the intruder had a gun to Kyle’s head and was making him say the coast was clear?
“How can I be sure it’s okay?” she asked.
He laughed at her question. “Uh, because I told you?”
Okay. He probably wouldn’t be laughing if there was a gun to his head. And that laugh had sounded real. She’d heard him laugh at her enough to know.
“Fine.” She plunked the lid down on the long vanity and cringed when she realized it could have broken.
After flipping the lock, she eased open the door.
Kyle stood there, brows raised as he took in the scene. Her, half hiding behind the door as she opened it. The misplaced tank lid next to the sink.
“Doing some plumbing in there?” he asked, amused.
“I was going to hit anyone who came in with it.”
He bobbed his head, actually looking impressed. “Good plan.”
She was just feeling good about herself while basking in the compliment when her gaze hit on the accessories he’d donned. The bullet-proof vest that made him look like he’d stepped right off the set of a police procedural. The gun at his waist.
It was a very real reminder that the guy who’d been cooking and cleaning for her the past couple of weeks had been hired for a very different purpose.
“What happened outside?” she asked. “Was it an animal?”
“I’ll tell you later. I gotta make a couple of calls,” he said before spinning away from her.
“Wait. What should I do?” She followed him down the staircase, still concerned. He hadn’t given her any answers.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned to glance back at her. “Pack your bag.”
Her eyes widened at his order. She scurried after him as he spun and headed across the room. “Pack? Why?”
“We’re leaving first thing in the morning,” he said as he continued through the dark living room, making his way toward the bedroom he’d chosen to occupy on the first floor.
“Why?” She followed, flipping on the living room lights as she passed the wall switch.
Stopping, he spun to face her. “Lights off, Luna.”
She reached back and flipped the light off, terrified all over again. “Kyle, what’s happening?”
“We’ve been compromised.”
“What does that even mean?” she whispered, close to tears.
“The person I found outside. He was a photographer.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How did they find me here? We were careful.”
“He said he got an anonymous tip.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know. That’s what we need to figure out. But until we do, we’re not staying here.”
She had to agree. Before this, the location had felt safe. Secure. Obviously, that had been a false sense of security.
Now, being so isolated, so remote, frightened her.
She turned toward the stairs, about to head up to her own bedroom, when she stopped. Pivoting back to face him, she said, “I’m afraid to be in my room alone.”
“Okay. We’ll stay together.” Kyle moved toward where she stood. “Come on. You pack first while I make a couple of calls.”
“But it’s so late.” What time was it? She didn’t know, but it had to be the middle of the night.
“This can’t wait.” His decisiveness should have been comforting.
Instead, it only drove home exactly how much danger she must be in if it had sent Kyle into warrior mode.
She finally turned and started up the staircase that led to her bedroom.
After taking two steps, she glanced back to make sure he was following. He was there, just a couple of stairs behind her. The display of the phone in his hand illuminated his features. His jaw was set. His eyes were determined.
He glanced up and saw her watching him. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just… I’m grateful you’re here,” she admitted.
He tipped his head once in a single nod. “So am I.”
sixteen
“What’s wrong?” Kurt answered the call without the usual greeting of hello.
Kyle couldn’t blame his brother for that. Calls that came in the middle of the night were generally not casual social calls. Booty calls, maybe. Bail calls. Birth calls. Death calls. But definitely not social calls.
And thank God Kurt had answered because Rudnick had not. That call had gone to voicemail and—call him paranoid—Kyle couldn’t bring himself to leave this on a message.
He’d been depending on Rudnick for instructions and back up. He wasn’t gonna get it. At least not tonight.
So who do you turn to when the special operator in charge of the PMC that hired you wasn’t available?
Family. That’s who. God help him.
“I need your help,” Kyle said.
“What do you need?” Kurt asked.
And this was why, even with as annoying as Kurt could be sometimes, Kyle had to love his brother.
Kurt was there for him, no questions asked, just like his teammates would have been—if he weren’t half a world away from the team.
Maybe he could survive if he got kicked out of the SEALs. It wouldn’t mean he was alone. He’d still have family. But his future, his career, was a worry for another day. His immediate concern—his only concern—was Luna.
He opened his mouth to explain and then a thought hit him. What if there was a bug in here somewhere? Or a GPS tracker. Or both.
That could explain how someone knew exactly where Luna was.
It would have been easy enough to slip a tracking or a listening device into her luggage at the hotel. The damn bags had been on the bellman’s cart and out of his sight for long enough someone with bad intentions could have done any number of things with her luggage and he’d never know.
Shit. He should have carried everything down. Put it all right in the trunk of the limo himself. Never let it out of his sight.
Too late now. But at least he could protect his newest plan to get her out of there and to a new safe—and more importantly secret—location.
“Hang on a sec,” he told Kurt, then he moved toward the bathroom attached to Luna’s bedroom.
She paused in her packing and stared at him. There was no guarantee he’d find a device if it were hidden well enough. And he didn’t have time to check right now anyway.
Best to be cautious. “I’m gonna be right in here for just a minute.”
She looked confused, and a little scared, but she nodded.
He moved into her bathroom and closed the door most of the way, leaving it open just a crack so he could still see her. Then he flipped on the water in the shower and let the sound of the hard spray striking the tile drown out his discussion.
“I need you and Dad to get in one of the work trucks at first light tomorrow, drive here to meet me and then play handymen.”
“Uh. All right. Do you have a problem you need fixed? What tools should we bring?” Kurt asked.
“You’re not really here to fix anything. You’re just going to pretend you are,” Kyle explained.
“Okay,” Kurt said, stretching the word out. “And what are we really there to do?”
“Smuggle out my client without anyone seeing her.”
“Her? It’s a woman. Interesting.”
“Kurt…” Kyle hoped his brother heard the warning in his tone.
“All right. All right. We’ll circle back to your female client you don’t want to discuss later. After we get her out. So how exactly do you propose we do that?”
He’d given that a lot of thought and he didn’t love any of the options, but he didn’t have a lot of choices here.
