Chapter 7 #2
He dipped down and captured her mouth, sliding one hand to the back of her head as he gathered her hair and deepened the kiss. Saylor barely gave him enough time to suck in a breath before she tugged his head down — claimed his mouth like she had in his bathroom.
Her chest heaved against his when they finally parted, foreheads touching, their breath mixing.
She smiled, and everything stopped. The wind, the rain, the roar of the ocean.
Gone. Just the two of them standing in front of her door, the promise of more hanging between them like the fog clinging to the trees.
He thought about spinning — pinning her to the wall as she rode his leg — until he remembered her reaction. One he feared had nothing to do with her experience aboard the doomed vessel but something closer to home.
She palmed his cheek, leaning against him. “Is that a yes?”
“I guess that depends.”
She played along. “On what?”
“On whether I get to make you breakfast in the morning.”
“You can bring it to me in bed.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “Then, why are we still standing out in the rain?”
She laughed, backed up the two steps to her door, then turned. “Zain.”
He frowned, moving in beside her. The door sat slightly ajar, a wedge of light illuminating the floor. “Are you sure you locked it? The wind could have blown it open.”
She scoffed. “You insisted on personally installing a security system after all that shit went down with Striker. Do you really think I’d insult you by not ensuring it was armed, every day? Besides, you’re not the only one with trust issues.”
Zain had his Sig in one hand, his cell in the other a second later — had Chase on speed dial.
Chase answered on the second ring. “Are you calling because she invited you in or because she didn’t?”
“Door’s ajar. Any chance Greer checked up here and forgot to lock it?”
“Shit.” Something rustled on the other end for a moment. “You’re on speaker, and Greer just pulled up. Hold on a second.”
Foster yelled something in the distance before a huff echoed over the line.
“Zain?” Greer, and she sounded exhausted. “What’s this about Saylor’s door being ajar?”
“We just rolled up, and her front door’s cracked open. Any chance that was you?”
“I didn’t go upstairs. Just did a tour of her office and the boathouse. And I armed the system when I left.”
“Figured as much.”
“Brother?” Chase, again. “Do you want backup?”
“We’ll check it out, first. If I don’t ring you back in five, come running.”
“Fuck that. Keep us on speaker.”
“I can’t sweep the place and hold the phone.”
“Then, put it in your damn pocket.”
“Fine. Hang tight. I’ll come back on once it’s clear.”
Zain slipped the phone into his inside breast pocket, then nodded at Saylor. “I’ll go, first. You sweep behind me.”
She nodded, waving her fingers at him. “I’ll need one of your spares.”
“Where’s your Beretta?”
“In a hidden lockbox on my boat where I keep it. And Atticus still has my spare, so…”
Zain removed a pistol from his right ankle holster and handed it to her. She cleared the chamber and checked the mag, then chambered a round. He grinned. The girl had skills.
He showed the countdown on his hand, then shoved open the door, already working on how he’d grab her and launch them both back out if he heard even the suggestion of an IED.
Having the door swing inward without so much as a creak started them off on a good note. Taking a couple steps inside and not getting pelted with automatic fire, even better. Saylor swept in behind him, gun at the ready, gaze scanning the shadows. All the places he’d checked.
The room had been gutted, all the furniture either ripped apart or tossed aside. Books and foam covered the floor, the photos she’d hung now in pieces on the ground.
He made a few hand signals, then quickstepped across the open area and over to the kitchen. He cleared any space large enough to hide an armed tango, then moved on to the short hallway.
Saylor stayed on his six, constantly looking behind them, as he crept down the corridor. He checked the bathroom, then moved on, stopping at the door to her bedroom.
She tapped him on the shoulder and leaned in close. “I never close the door.”
He nodded, palmed the handle — turned it — when the floor creaked beyond the door.
Zain spun, taking her with him as he dove for the bathroom, hitting the tile floor as bullets cut through the air, punching through the wooden door and into the far wall.
Footsteps pounded the hallway, a dark figure racing toward them.
Zain rose enough to lay down some cover fire — send the asshole scrambling toward the front entrance — before giving Saylor a quick once-over, then racing after the guy. Chase’s voice sounded above the other noise, not that Zain made out any of the words.
More gunfire ate through the walls and furniture as Zain stayed low, stopping at the corner before darting out.
He fired and hit the bastard square in the back of his body armor.
The impact launched the guy into the railing, nearly sending him over when a few pieces of wood cracked before he recovered.
He unleashed another spray of bullets, then booked it out of sight.
Zain cursed and took off, sprinting for the doorway. He only paused long enough to check for a sniper, then raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. A lone figure ran along the dock and into the parking lot, turning to fire, again, before picking up speed.
Saylor shadowed Zain as he took cover, then darted out, working to close some of the distance.
He lined up the asshole, knocked him down with another hit to his vest. An engine growled in the distance followed by tires skidding around a corner.
A black SUV roared into sight a second later, bouncing down the road at some insane speed.
A hulking tango leaned out the open window, AR-15 notched into his shoulder.
Zain slowed and grabbed Saylor, shoving her beneath him a second before the asshole opened fire, pinging bullets off the pavement as muzzle flashes illuminated the fog.
A door slammed nearby, then the SUV spun a full one-eighty, kicking up water as the tires slipped along the wet surface before finally gaining traction.
Smoke poured out from beneath the rubber, more gunfire drowning out the growling engine as it leaped forward, swerving around the corner, then onto the road.
Zain eased up, shaking his head as he helped Saylor to her feet. “Shit, are you okay?”
She brushed off the clothes he’d lent her, glancing at the street. “Considering some asshole just shot up my house and my business, I’m handling it all pretty damn well.”
He ran his hands along her arms, checking for blood. “All that can be fixed. As long as you didn’t get hit. Again.”
“Not sure how anyone could’ve hit me with you acting as my human shield, but no, I’m good.”
“You know I’m protective by nature. When it comes to you…” There wasn’t a sacrifice he wouldn’t make. A price he wouldn’t pay.
Her gaze softened. “You’re lucky I find that trait mostly endearing.” She sighed when sirens wailed in the distance, quickly drawing closer. “Just when I thought I’d avoided the crime scene tape.”
Zain huffed. “They can hang it like streamers for all it matters because there’s not a chance in hell you’re staying here tonight.”
“You think they’ll come back, don’t you?”
“It depends on whether or not they found what they were looking for.”
“I don’t have anything worth stealing other than my boats. ”
“For all we know, you pissed off those pirates enough they’re gunning for you simply as payback. But, until we have some answers, you’re with me. Because this doesn’t feel as if it’s anywhere close to over.”