I shook my head, firm. "Not even close," I lied. "Maybe I thought I was once, but I was so wrong. I could never love someone as cruel and heartless as you." My chin was trembling now, so I shoved out of my chair and past him before he could see the lie written all over my face.
Ruth was just coming back into the room, and she paused in her tracks when she saw my face.
"I'm quite tired," I told her with a plea in my eyes. "Do you mind if I just go to sleep?"
Her brows hiked up, and she sent a warning glare past me to Dylan before nodding. "Of course, sweetheart. Third door on the left upstairs, it's all set up for you."
"Thank you," I said with utter sincerity, wrapping my arms around myself as I hurried past her.
I knew full well Dylan wouldn't let me leave it at that, but maybe, just maybe, he'd give me some space to process for a few hours. Then in the morning, I could let Ruth toss him out on his ass.
20
Through some miracle of exhaustion or hormones, I actually fell asleep in Ruth's pretty guest room. I couldn't have slept for long, though, because the room was still pitch black when I woke with a startled gasp and a heavy hand over my mouth.
Fear choked me for a second, until I recognized Dylan's fresh, woodsy scent.
"Shh," he breathed, his lips right beside my face. "Stay quiet. We're under attack."
What?
Sure enough, a second later I heard more than one scuff from downstairs, and I scrambled into sitting position, pushing Dylan's hand away from my face.
“Who would be attacking us?” I gasped, feeling around for the pants that I'd taken off earlier. But Dylan already had them and slipped them into my hands.
"I don't know, Brooke, but there're a lot of them. I called in Delta backup, but with the storm, I don't think they'll get here in time."
Shit shit shit shit.
"Dylan, have you told Ruth?" I asked, reaching for his arm.
"No, I came straight for you. Ruth should be fine if they're after you or me."
They had to be. Dylan was a billionaire, so clearly worth a fuckton of money if kidnapped, and I had a deranged brother out there lying about me. It could be either of us.
Dylan turned away, listening closer, and no doubt cataloguing the noises coming from downstairs. They were almost silent now, and I was sure that didn't mean good things. "They're professionals," he murmured, confirming my worry. "Get under the bed, Brooke. Don't come out until I tell you to."
I wanted to protest. I really fucking didn't like the thought of cowering under my bed while Dylan fought them off, but there was a possibility I had another life to protect inside of me. A life that I had to fight for.
"Okay," I whispered as a creak of the stairs told me they were close.
Carefully, I eased myself down under the side of the bed and slid all the way back against the wall. From here, there was only a sliver of light visible under the door, but otherwise everything was dark. Outside, the wind blew hard, the dominant sound, making it easier for those bastards to sneak in.
Dylan's legs disappeared from where he'd been standing, and like a ghost, he blended into the night, preparing for the attack. Closing my eyes I prayed they didn't get to Ruth first and that the kindness this woman had shown a stranger wouldn't cost her her life.
Not like I was a big believer in prayer or God, my parents had never even taken us to a church service as kids, but for Ruth, I was going to give this prayer thing a shot. And not just for Ruth but also Dylan andour baby.
So many lives on the line, and once again, I was helpless.
I was so tense that I almost screamed when the door to my room cracked open, slowly moving inward. The illumination in here grew brighter than the single light Ruth had left on to help me find the bathroom. No one entered straight away, and if they were professionals, as Dylan suspected, they’d be assessing the risks. I inwardly cursed when I remembered my unmade bed. Would they think I was gone and leave?
I was surprised when a few sets of feet moved forward, three people walking in formation. I trembled on the freezing ground, preparing myself for what was about to happen. As they got closer, I heard the muffled sound of a radio, like they wore ear buds to receive their commands. Most definitely professionals.
Should I scream? Would that help Dylan or make things worse?
I mean, I knew he was good at what he did, but knowing what plants to eat wasn't exactly the same as fighting against trained goons.
Just as I had that thought, there was a thud, and then the closest feet to me disappeared. In about the same instant, a body dropped right on the edge of the bed, unseeing eyes staring straight at me.
