Three fast hits that were all directed straight at the bed. Exactly where she’d been. Her hand flew up. The hand that now held her own gun. When she’d leapt from the bed, she’d grabbed the gun that she’d placed on the nightstand before settling in.
The shooter had now realized that she wasn’t in the bed. Missed your target, asshole. He was jerking his gun down, toward her, adjusting his aim.
“Stop!” Agnes yelled.
Nope, he was not stopping. He surged forward and?—
With zero hesitation, Agnes fired her gun.
She fired…even as Cass grabbed her hips and tried to spin her beneath him.
Her bullet slammed into the target. The intruder’s chest.
Cass’s fingers wrapped around her gun.
The man in the doorway tried to shoot again.
She and Cass fired once more. Together.
The bastard fell, slamming backwards and hitting the cement right outside of the motel room doorway.
Her breath heaved out. She stared at the door.
Cass lifted her up, then off him. She scrambled for the door.
Cass’s hands wrapped around her waist again and he picked her up. Way up so that her feet just sort of cycled in the air, and she didn’t go anywhere.
“Stay the fuck behind me,” Cass snarled.
“Let me the fuck go.”
He let her go, but only after he’d put her behind him. He went to the open doorway.
Someone was screaming from somewhere close by.
Cass had his own gun out. She wondered where he’d been hiding that thing. He’d yanked off his t-shirt and ditched his boots before bunking down on the floor. So he headed toward the perp wearing just his jeans with his back toward her. And she?—
She flipped on the lamp near the bed. Then she stopped dead.
Absolutely dead in her tracks.
Because…she’d made love with Cass all night long at his place. Not made love. Fucked. You fucked him all night long.
She’d…she’d seen so much of him. Touched so much. And the lights had been on but...
But she hadn’t seen his back.
The lights had been off the only time she’d kissed his back. The only time she’d…
Tattoos were on his back. A skull with fangs. A grim reaper. And…
A two-headed, snarling cobra.
Oh, my God.
The screaming outside abruptly stopped. Footsteps clattered. Wheels squeaked away.
“The maid is probably gonna call the cops,” Cass said as he knelt beside the attacker. He put his hand to the guy’s throat. “Still breathing.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Maybe not for long, though.”
