Harper heldher hand clutched to herheart as she watched Norman in her office. He was going through her drawers and grinned when he spotted the Scotch. He pulled it out and drank half the bottle before throwing it at the window into the hall. The glass shattered.
Ryker rose and moved to the back of the room, watching Eric at the elevator. He knew that look; he knew what Eric was about to do. Getting away from this bunch would be the hardest. He shook his head and grabbed his gun. He gestured toward the emergency stairs and followed behind his brother. They had work to do.
Harper glanced around the room.Her heart raced when she found Eric and Ryker gone. Aunt Betty held out her keys. “Use the chair.”
“What chair?”
Aunt Betty grinned. “You’ll see.”
“Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere,” Quinn growled. “If those two maniacs want to walk into danger, that’s one thing, but don’t think for a minute that I’m going to let you walk out that door.”
“I have to,” Harper said and took Aunt Betty’s gun in passing. “I can’t let them go to jail, or worse, die. They’ve been through enough.”
“You aren’t thinking clearly,” Carasaid, taking a step in Harper’s direction as the elevator door opened. “We’ll go with you. We’ll call the police.”
She shook her head and stepped into the elevator. “You have more than yourself to worry about, and it would kill me if something happened to the baby or you.” Harper hit the button to the ground floor and held her sister’s gaze as the door slid closed, cutting off her view.
Five minutes later,Harper pulled the door open to her building. She bypassed the elevator and took the stairs to camouflage her arrival. The stairwell lights illuminated her path as she climbed the stairs, letting adrenaline be her guiding force. She peered through the little window in the door to find the lights on her floor were off. Her heart raced as she held the gun steady. She reached for the door with shaky hands and eased it open. A single light was flashing from her office as Harper stepped forward. Her foot caught on something and she glanced down.
Grant was on the ground in a pool of blood that was soaking into the floor. She squatted, placing her fingers on his neck. A slight pulse.
Harper ducked into Quinn’s old officeand grabbed the phone from the desk before ducking behind it. She lifted the receiver and held it to her ear. No dial tone, no way to call for help.
Harper put the gun on the desk and eased back out into the hall. Slipping her hands beneath Grant’s arms, she eased him into Quinn’s office and out of view. Frantically she searched for something to stop the blood. Nothing.
She slipped her shirt off and pressed it to the open wound. Her only chance at getting help was in her office. She rose and grabbed the gun. Ducking beneath windows, she moved to where the light was. Straining to hear, she leaned against the wall, the gun held against her chest. Nothing.
She eased over the broken glass to peer inside the room. It was empty. She hurried inside, grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled the wordsCall 911, and held it up to the security camera. She hoped that her sisters were still watching.
She left it on the desk for her sisters and moved back outside the room. She quickly worked her way through the offices; not a single soul was in sight. The door to the roof stood open. Fear and desperation coursed through her veins as she eased up each step, trying not to make a sound. She strained to hear words, noises, anything that would tell herwhat was waiting. The door to the roof stood open. There was no noise, no sound, nothing. She eased outside, and her breath caught. Eric and Ryker were lying on the ground.
She dropped the gun by Eric’s prone body and felt for a pulse in his neck. He was still breathing. She quickly moved to Ryker, and he, too, was still alive; a tear slipped down her cheek. His eyes slid open, but his words were garbled. “He’s rigged the place to blow. You need to get out.”
Her body froze and tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t take the chance that Norman would wait until the office was full of people to hurt.
“I can’t.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and rose. Ryker caught her hand.
“Please,” he begged.
“Don’t you dare die on me. Help is coming. I have to warn them,” she whispered for the world to hear and slipped her fingers free. She jogged back to the steps and down them, back onto her office floor, the gun held tightly in her hands.
The energy in the building was worse than the feeling she had gotten when Ryker had mentioned a meeting in Mexico several days prior. This energy was worse than any energy she’d felt before. It was black and dark and suffocating. A ghostappeared in the hall, startling her. The Highlander with the red beard was donning his sword and pointing down the corridor.
“He’s down there?” she whispered, earning her a grin. Harper ran into her office, wrote the wordBOMBin big letters and held it up to the video. She let out a shaky breath and went in the one direction Ryker and her sisters would kill her for, if they knew. She was walking straight into harm’s way. She had no choice but to stop him before he blew the place up.
She eased down the corridor, the Highlander showing her the way. He drifted through the stairwell door that led to the basement. She eased it open, the gun pointed at the floor as she slowly descended the stairs. She didn’t have a plan. She hadn’t a clue what she was doing. She knew one thing. If this building collapsed, Ryker was going to die.
She stopped on the last step and heard a man whistling. She glanced around the corner and found Norman squatted down with his back to her. She couldn’t see what he was doing. She had no clue how to diffuse a bomb. She eased around the corner with the gun held in both hands. Her gaze darted around the room and landed on one of the old chairs they had stored just a week ago. AuntBetty’s words came rushing back.Use the chair.Why would she need to use a damn chair when she had a gun? Harper sidestepped around a chair and shoved the barrel up to his head. “Rise, nice and slow.”
The whistling ceased as the man rose. “Which one are you?”
“The one you pissed off.”
Norman raised his hands. Some type of device was clutched in his grasp as he turned to face her. “Harper.” His lips twisted in a smile.
“Where’s the bomb?” she demanded.
His smile grew. “If I push this button, the whole building blows.”
