Who would be at her door at this time of night?
Her heart raced as she stared at the door. There was silence. Had she imagined it in her post-sleep haze? She took a deep breath and expelled it, trying to calm her ragged nerves. She needed to go to bed and sleep.
Chloe turned toward her bedroom. As she did, there was a loud crack, like wood splintering. She spun to face her front door as it flew open. Two masked men rushed inside. She didn’t have time to react as one of them grabbed her, pulling her to him and wrapping her in his arms.
She thought of that night at the museum. These men were dressed like the ones who had invaded the night of the gala.
“I’ll hold her. Ye look for it,” he said.
The second man went directly to her bedroom. Her heart rammed hard in her chest as she stood there, shivering with fear. Sounds of things hitting the floor and drawers opening came from her room while the first man held her clutched against hisheated body. His shallow breathing shuddered in and out, as if nervous and on edge.
The second man came out of the bedroom, halting in the doorway and something about the way he stood there holding his head sent a shudder of familiarity through her. He turned his head in the light in a way that she got a glimpse of his bright, piercing blue eyes.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Bruce?” His name quivered from her.
Across from her, he stiffened. His entire body went rigid.
Behind her the man holding her barked, “Keep looking.”
“It’s not here,” the other replied.
As soon as he spoke, she knew she was right.
“Bruce, why?” was all she could think to say.
He stood motionless for a heartbeat, then reached up and pulled off the mask, revealing his familiar face. Those piercing blue eyes met hers and her heart sank to her shoes.
Evie had sensed something about him, something she didn’t like. She had tried to tell Chloe but she wouldn’t listen. She had thought she was in love with him. She had thought he might be the one. Now she knew he wasn’t.
He was the one who had stolen the bag off her coffee table. He was the one who had hidden it in his glove box. Was he also the one who had chased Evie up the museum steps that night?
“I know it’s here, lass,” Bruce said.
She didn’t know what he meant but she had a sudden suspicion he was looking for the stone. The one Moira gave her. The one clutched in her hand, the jagged edges biting her palm.
“What are you talking about?” She tried to play dumb.
The man holding her twisted then. He looked down at the table and saw the other blue velvet bag. “There’s the bag.” He turned back to Bruce. “Find it.”
“I don’t have to. She has it.” His gaze flickered to her clenched hand by her side.
Hot, wild fear pumped through her as she stared at the man she had thought she loved. He took two steps, closing the distance between them.
“Let her go,” he said to the one holding her.
He didn’t ease up on his grasp. “Are you mad? If I let her go, she’ll bolt.”
“She’s not going to,” Bruce said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Are you, Chloe?”
She decided there was only one way out of this and that was to comply. Moira had told her, though, to never let the stone out of her sight.
There are those who would kill for it.
Her words rang back to her. But if she didn’t comply, was she risking her life? She didn’t think Bruce would hurt her, but now she wasn’t sure.
“No,” she finally said, her voice weak and rough.
