Chapter 2 #4
Draco dove after them, grabbed the man, spun him around and slammed his fist up under the man’s jaw with everything he had. The impact sent pain traveling from Draco’s knuckles up his arm into his shoulder.
The man shoved Draco back into the room so hard Draco fell backward.
Before the brute could turn back to Cate, Draco swept his legs out from under him. He toppled, his head hitting the wall inside the bedroom. He rolled to his side and back onto his feet.
Draco scrambled up, but not in time to stop the man from making a run for it. Instead of heading for the door and Cate, the man bolted for the window and ducked through the opening onto the fire escape.
Before Draco could draw his weapon, the man was gone.
Draco raced to the window.
Boots clanged against the metal as he descended two steps at a time, then vaulted over the rail near the bottom, dropped to the ground, rolled and took off running.
For a second, Draco considered going after him. After weighing the odds—the shaky fire escape, wet cobblestone and the man’s lead on him—the one concern that trumped them all overturned his desire to find the bastard and pummel him into the ground.
He couldn’t leave Cate alone.
It was a no-brainer decision.
He pulled back from the window and turned toward Cate.
She’d come in from the hallway and stood in the middle of the disaster of her room, pressing a hand to her throat, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded.
She shook her head. “No,” she answered, her voice shaky. “He didn’t get me. You didn’t let him.”
Not taking her word for it, Draco closed the distance between them, clasped her cheeks between his palms and tilted her head up to the ceiling light.
His gaze swept her face and her temples, and his hands tested the back of her head for lumps.
His pulse thundered so loudly against his eardrums he could barely hear himself think.
She reached up and curled her fingers around the hand that cupped her cheek. “Draco, I’m all right.”
He pulled in a breath and let it out slowly, willing his heart to quit racing. He leaned his forehead against hers for a second. Then he stepped back, pulled his phone from his pocket and called Hammer.
The leader of the Brotherhood Protectors International answered before the first ring ended. “What’s happened?”
Draco gave him the details in short sentences as his gaze canvassed the room, cataloging everything. Drawers dumped, mattress flipped, pockets turned inside out, closet emptied. He strode into the adjoining bathroom. The lid on the toilet had been removed. “He was looking for something.”
“You sure it wasn’t a random robbery?” Hammer asked.
“No. he was searching for something.” Draco stepped back into the bedroom.
“Need me to send the team?”
“No,” Draco said. “He left. It’s just Cate and me now.”
“Call me any hour,” Hammer said. “I can have people there within minutes.”
“We’re okay for now.” Draco stared across at Cate. “I’ll keep you up to date.”
“Copy that,” Hammer said. “Out here.”
Draco ended the call and glanced around the room.
“This is how Dana’s house looked,” Cate said, staring at the disaster, unmoving. “Like whoever was searching was willing to turn it upside down to find something.” Her gaze suddenly snapped to a stop. She clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened.
Her face drained of color as she stared at the floor by the bed.
“Cate?” he went to her, his gaze following hers to the source of her consternation.
A dark baseball cap lay on the floor next to the upended nightstand.
“What is it?” Draco asked gently.
“That cap.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen it before at Dana’s house in Virginia. A man was wearing it as he stood across the street from her house. I could see him from the upstairs window. He was there, and then he was gone. I didn’t think it meant anything.”
Draco stood still, studying the cap, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure it was the same hat? Anyone can own a plain black ball cap.”
“I swear it’s the same one. Even though I only saw the man for a moment, I recognize that cap. It’s not the usual ball cap. It’s different enough to stand out.”
Draco snagged a tissue from the box in the bathroom and lifted the cap from the floor, studying it. It was a little different, the bowl more cylindrical, rising straight up rather than curving toward the center on a gentle slope.
A heavy weight settled in Draco’s gut. “If this belongs to the same man, it means they didn’t find you in London, and the call wasn’t the only thing that led them to zero in on you. They’ve been on you since you visited Dana’s house in Virginia.”
Cate’s chin lifted. Though her hands shook, her voice stayed steady. “Then they know I’m not going home.”
Draco shoved his pistol into the holster and pulled Cate into his arms.
She didn’t argue or pull away. Her fists bunched in this shirt, keeping him close.
He pressed his lips to her hair. “They don’t know who they’re messing with. From here on out, they’ll have to go through me to reach you.”