When I extracted my teeth and fell back to the bed, Jack collapsed down on top of me, burying his face in my neck. I stroked my hand over his sweaty back as I worked on regaining precious air in my lungs.
I smiled when I felt him kiss the side of my neck. "I love you, too, Jack."
Chapter Eleven
My eyes snapped open and I reared back when I felt something cover my mouth. Ice-cold dread flooded me until I saw Jack leaning over me. I frowned up at him. What in the hell was he doing? If he wanted to scare me, this was the way to do it.
Jack held his finger to his lips.
Well, that wasn't good.
"Someone is in the house," he mouthed. "Get dressed."
I was assuming he meant someone who wasn't supposed to be in the house.
I rolled to the side of the bed as soon as he let me go and reached for my clothes. I wasn't thrilled I was going to face whatever was going on in pajama pants and a T-shirt, but it was all that I had and I didn't think Jack was going to let me stop and ask Ian for more.
Ian!
Before I could pull my pants up my legs, I contacted Ian. "Ian!"
"Dude!" Ian snapped. "I'm sleeping here."
"Jack says we have intruders."
"Crap!"
"Let Hank know."
"Hank already knows," Ian replied. "He's gearing up right now."
"Got any jogging pants?"
Hey, it was worth a shot.
"Yeah, I'll grab something. Meet you in the hallway."
"We need to let the others know what's going on," I reminded Ian. "Abe needs to get Danny to the bunker."
"I'm sure he already knows."
Considering who Abe used to work with, I imagined he did.
"Stay frosty."
I pulled on my T-shirt before walking to the door. I cracked it open and peeked out. When I didn't see anyone, I opened the door a little more. I started to step out of the room when I saw a shadow coming up the stairs. I quickly closed the door and stepped back, then turned and hurried to my pajamas pants. Damn the jogging pants. I needed something to cover up all my bits and pieces.
"Jack," I whispered as I yanked my pants up my legs. I pointed to the door. "Someone is coming up the stairs." I was pretty sure it wasn't Hank or one of the others. They didn't tend to carry around AK-47s.
Jack's gaze snapped to the door. He slowly pulled the hammer back on his pistol—muffling the sound with his hand—then moved toward the door. He tilted his head toward the door, his brow furrowing as if he was trying to figure out what he was hearing.
"Get down!" Jack shouted as he dove toward me.
I didn't question it. I dropped to the floor and covered my head. I grunted when something heavy landed on top of me. My discomfort was a small price to pay when bullets ripped into the wall. The walls were pretty thick so none of them got through that way, but the door seemed paper thin. They came right through the door, shot over my head, then slammed into the far wall, and the bed, the dresser, and basically anything in their path.
"Shift, baby," Jack whispered into my ear. "Shift and get under the bed."
I knew Jack wanted me safe, but I wanted him safe just as much. I turned my head far enough to see his eyes. "You stay safe. You belong to me now."
