Page 39 of When The Dust Settles

“Well, I’m gonna put a bullet in her head if she don’t stop.”

Reaching the open doorway of Stef’s office, I leaned out into the short hall that connected it to the second small sitting room. Moving quickly, I slipped into that room and climbed on top of the couch, onto the coffee table, and then walked along the chaise to the wall. I’d learned early in an old house with wood floors that the best way to not make noise was to get on top of things already sitting heavy on the boards.

Leaning only inches out that door into the living room, I could see reflections in the glass of the grandfather clock against the wall to my right. When I turned my head back and forth, I could see everyone.

They were all clustered more toward the back of the house, almost to the kitchen, which made sense. Whoever these people were—burglars, kidnappers, God knew—they’d invaded the home and were smart enough to want Stef away from the front porch where they’d thought anyone driving up would have seen him. It was also why they hadn’t seen me on horseback coming up the drive. The issue was, there was no regular traffic on the road to the house, no one to notice them. No one but me.

“Mr. Joss, I’m so sorry,” Button-down lamented, trying to take a step forward, but the girl yanked on his arm. “I’m so stupid.”

“You ain’t stupid,” Straw Hat told him. “You went along ’cause you knew nobody would get hurt.” He turned back to Stef. “And nobody will as long as you listen and do exactly what we say.”

“Just shoot him and take the baby,” Daisy Dukes said flatly.

“No!” Button-down was aghast.

“Not kill him, honey, just shoot him in the leg so we can take the boy. That’ll be a lot easier and we can keep him quiet real easy.”

Stef clutched Wyatt tight, and I reached behind me and took hold of the antique fireplace poker standing in the holder beside the leather tufted chair near a decorative antique writing desk that as far as I’d ever seen, no one used. The house had been built pre-central heat and air, and since Rand had never converted it, there was a fireplace in every room but the kitchen and dining room downstairs, and the master upstairs. It was a sweet house full of quaint charm that Stef balked at updating, keeping Rand’s plans for an open-flow renovation on ice. So at the moment, it was still a box inside with smaller rooms and lots of walls to hide behind. Since the setup was serving me well at the moment, I was thankful for Stef’s sense of tradition.

“I think we should all go into the kitchen,” Baseball Cap commented. “I want us right at the back door in case we have to make a run for it.”

“All right,” Straw Hat agreed.

“What is this room over here? Did you check all these when we came in?” Baseball Cap asked as I retreated a bit, seeing him coming my way.

When he walked around the corner, I swung the poker at the back of his head, caught him in the neck, and he tripped forward noisily into the room, screaming for help before falling over the couch that matched the chaise and clunking his head hard on the coffee table.

I scrambled for the gun he dropped, but Straw Hat was there, jumping me from behind and driving us both out into the living room into another wall.

“Stef, get to the kitchen and let Bella in!” I yelled.

He bolted by me, Daisy Dukes right on his heels, with Button-down bringing up the rear. I tripped him, even though I was grappling with Straw Hat, who then caught me in the shoulder with a knife I didn’t know he had.

“You fuck!” I swore at him, enraged. It was a nine-inch switchblade, not legal at all, and I was thankful it was buried in my rotator cuff instead of my heart.

I swung with my still-good right arm, caught him in the jaw with my fist, and when he stumbled back, I kicked him in the knee and saw it bend the other way, hearing the pop at the same time. His scream was deafening in the small space, and I left him writhing on the floor.

I knew the gun was somewhere in the sitting room, but I also knew that Baseball Cap was out like a light and Straw Hat was in way too much howling pain to go looking for it, so I bolted after Stef, moving fast down the hall, made it to the kitchen, and was there greeted with the lovely sight of Daisy Dukes, standing next to Button-down beside the counter with her hands up. Both were there, frozen, not moving as a very pissed off Bella stood in front of them, snarling, hackles raised and head down, ears back, and lips curled up so teeth and gums were visible. She was not fucking around.

“Good girl,” I said as I staggered in, seeing Stef on the phone as Wyatt lifted his head, blinking and bleary.

“Ungen,” Wyatt said when he saw me, smiling big and leaning out a little for me to take him. Ungen was me: uncle and Glenn without the L the sweet little boy had trouble pronouncing.

I wanted to grab him but I couldn’t; my left arm had stopped working. I couldn’t lift it at all, but more troubling was all the blood. Grabbing a dish towel from the handle of the oven, I pressed it above my heart and leaned on the counter to steady myself.

“Can you call off the dog?” Button-down said. “She’s freaking us out.”

“No,” I snapped. He’d tried to kidnap a baby but the dog was being a psycho? Jesus.

“Is my boyfriend okay?” Daisy Dukes asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “Did you kill him?”

“I’m your boyfriend!” Button-down gasped.

Poor bastard. He’d been so used.

“Mr. Holloway?” she prodded.

How did she—ah… it took me a second in all the excitement. “I’m not Rand Holloway.”