I need to know how many are inside.
The front hall is dim, the lights flickering because someone has hit the house power but not fully killed the emergency system. The front door is closed. One body near it. Nick’s security. Dead. Another near the side table. One of my people.
Andrew.
For one second, everything in me stops.
Andrew is on his back, blood dark across his shirt, eyes half open.
My jaw locks.
No.
Grieve later.
I move to him, crouch, check.
There’s a pulse. Weak, fluttering. Alive but barely.
“Boss,” he breathes.
“Don’t talk.”
“At least… dozen,” he forces out. “Jammer… van… east service road.”
That explains the phones.
His hand twitches toward his weapon.
I press it back to his chest, then I drag him across the entrance hall and to the closet. I grab a sweater from one of the hangers—from the feel of it, it’s definitely expensive—and press it against his wound hard.
He hisses.
“You have to keep the pressure on. Can you do that?” I ask.
He nods and puts his hand over mine.
“Stay alive.” I close the door of the closet behind me.
A dozen.
I put down two, and I know a few more have been taken out. But I don’t know how many are left. I don’t know if there are more inside.
I need those damn cameras. And I need to take out that jammer van.
I need too many things at once.
A floorboard creaks above me.
I look up.
Someone on the second floor. Someone who came here with the intent to kill Caterina and her family.
Hardening myself to the pain and feelings, I move toward the stairs.
Chapter Thirty Two
Caterina
