She sprinted toward the hall—toward Parker. Blind panic pushing her forward.
A hard tug on her long strands yanked her backward. Her feet flew out from under her and she landed hard on the tile floor.
A masked man stood over her, blood gushing down his leg. “You’re going to pay for that.”
Celine opened her mouth and screamed.
3
Anxiety rippled along Lane’s skin like a strong current. He sat in his truck and stared at the house in front of him. Moonlight shone down, only revealing Celine’s new place to him through partial shadows.
Thirty feet.
That’s all that separated him from the bomb he knew waited for him. He’d had a couple hours to wrap his mind around being a father, and he was just as confused as when he’d laid eyes on the little boy. A conversation with Celine wouldn’t change that, but it was a start.
Lead weighed down each step as he climbed out of his truck and walked up the brick sidewalk to the front door.
A bone-chilling scream poured from the house, setting his heart into a gallop. He leapt up the porch steps and found the door unlatched. Shoving it open, he catapulted into the house. “Celine!”
A quick survey showed an empty living room, so he kept moving, noting the light on in the next room.
“Celine, where are you?” he yelled and turned the corner into the kitchen.
If he was afraid before, a terror like he’d never known boiled his blood. Celine lay on the floor with a man standing over her. With the rage of a bull, he charged forward, circling his arms around her attacker and shoving him to the ground.
Whimpering, Celine pedaled her feet against the floor until her back hit a wall.
He wanted to tell her to get to the baby but didn’t want to waste time. He needed to get this asshole away from her—make sure he couldn’t hurt her or his son.
With the man bucking below him, Lane pulled back his fist and smashed it into the man’s mask-covered face. Blood squirted from the nose hole in the mask, and his head jolted back, hitting the ground.
Celine scrambled to her feet and ran across the room to the butcher block holding the knives on the counter.
Lane gripped the neck of the man’s shirt to punch him again, but the intruder smashed a fist into his gut.
Pain erupted inside him, stealing his breath. But he didn’t loosen his grip. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back his fist.
Celine grabbed a knife and spun back toward him. “Lane, watch out!”
Before he could react, a sharp stab sliced through his side. Instinct relaxed his grip, and the man shoved him off and clambered to his feet before sprinting out the back door.
Rolling onto his back, he pressed his palm to the wound.
“Oh my God, Lane,” Celine rushed to him and dropped to her knees. “He stabbed you. You need an ambulance.”
Groaning, he forced himself to sit and peel back his T-shirt. Blood oozed from a small gash right above his hip bone. “He didn’t get me good. Just enough to throw me off guard so the bastard could get away. We need to call the sheriff.”
Her eyes were wide, her hands shaky and the shock of what just happened clear on her face. “I…I don’t…I mean.”
He smoothed a palm along her jawline and forced her to focus on him. “Celine, I’m fine. You’re fine. But we have to call the police, okay? Get someone here to track that guy down and make sure he doesn’t come back.”
“Okay. You’re right.” She swallowed hard and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Alarm stretched the lines of her face, and she pressed her device in his hand before jumping to her feet. “Parker. I have to check on Parker.”
Her concern for their son tightened his chest in a way he didn’t understand—or expect.
“Go get him. I’ll make the call.” With her phone unlocked, he dialed 911.
The operator answered in two quick rings. “911, what’s your emergency?”
