“I don’t like this,” Judson said under his breath. “If it’s two of them working together, one could be coming closer to the house while we’ve all got our attention on this one.”
Oh, God. Addie hadn’t considered that, but it was a strong possibility. A two-pronged attack to take care of the protectors inside and outside the house.
Judson stood, taking hold of her arm and pulling her from the window. “I’m going up to the roof. I can climb through that old attic door to get there.”
They were both very familiar with that spot. He’d climbed up there often as a kid just to look at the stars. Later on, when they were teenagers, she had joined him, and it had become one of their make-out spots. The roof had a panoramic view of the entire grounds.
And that barn.
It would also make Judson an easy target once he was up there. No place to duck and hide from a killer hell-bent on ending his life.
“I need to do this,” he insisted.
Yes, he did. But that didn’t make things easier. Addie had to force herself not to latch on to him and beg him to stay.
The kiss helped with that.
He lowered his mouth to hers, and along with robbing her of her breath, it nipped any objections she had in the bud.
“Go in the bathroom and stay put,” he ordered, giving her one more kiss before he rushed out.
Addie stood there just a moment, trying to force aside the sickening feeling that it would be their last kiss. The last time she laid eyes on Judson.
No.
This couldn’t be the last of anything but the danger. She refused to even consider a future without Judson, and she latched on to that thought—that hope—as she hurried toward the bathroom.
Addie had just reached for the doorknob when she heard the sound that she’d been dreading.
A gunshot.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Judson had just made it to the stairs when the gunshot blasted outside. And the sound punched him like a meaty fist.
Exactly where outside the sound had come from, he didn’t know, but he didn’t think the shot had hit the house. Still, he was ready to rush back to Addie’s bedroom when his phone vibrated with a text.
From Addie.
Hell. His first thought was that Etta Jean, the babies or she had been hurt, and he had to tamp down the panic racing through him. He forced himself to look at his phone screen.
Are you all right?Addie had texted.We’re okay here and staying down in the bathroom.
The relief shoved away the bulk of the panic, and he was able to reply with a thumbs-up emoji. A quick, way-too-light response that didn’t convey the emotions he was feeling, but it got the job done. He let her know he hadn’t been hurt, and now he knew that Addie, Etta Jean and the babies were safe.
Hopefully, they would stay that way if he managed to pinpoint the shooter and stop the attack from escalating. That reminder got him moving even faster up the stairs to the second floor.
Another shot came.
His muscles turned to iron, and his heartbeat began to thunder in his ears. But again, this bullet hadn’t seemed to hitthe house, and it made him wonder if the gunman was aiming for Calvin or Rory. If so, he didn’t want to text and possibly distract them when they were trying to stay alive.
Instead, Judson focused on getting to the center of the upstairs hallway and to the cord for the attic door. He gave it a hard yank, and the ladder unfolded as the door dropped open.
As he’d done countless times as a kid, he scrambled up the rungs, stepping into a massive space that was filled with an equally massive amount of stuff. Furniture that’d been able to fit through the door. Boxes, dozens and dozens of them, filled with all sorts of decorations for any occasion—birthdays, Christmas, Easter, swimming parties, homecoming and bon voyages.
Judson also knew there were thousands of photographs and old magazines, and he’d spent some time looking through those as a kid. The attic had become his sanctuary of sorts, and he was familiar with every inch of it.
Including the ceiling door that led to the roof.
