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To gain a semblance of calm, she closed her eyes and drew in steady breaths, hoping to get her system under control.

Thea’s hand squeezed hers, and she opened her eyes. Better. “What should we do to help?”

Thea shrugged, eyes dark with worry. “No idea. I’ve texted Marcus to tell him about the shots and the neighbors to alert them to stay inside.”

Panic had Jolie’s heart thumping again. “Hemsworth? Did he get inside?”

Thea’s eyes widened. “I don’t think so. They raced off toward the driveway and I haven’t seen them since.”

Jolie forced down her panic for the dogs. She shoved to her feet, glad to find her legs would hold her. “Do you know if either Ford or Knox has another gun? We could grab them to help.”

“You can shoot?”

Jolie shrugged. “No idea, but if it’ll help protect us all, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Jolie gathered up her wetsuit and crept into the nearest room to get it out of the way. She didn’t want it to trip any of them up, so she set it and her headlamp on the closest couch.

She returned to the hallway, still working to control her breathing and her fear. Were Ford and Knox okay? There hadn’t been anymore shots, which had to be good news, but she kept her voice low. “We have to help. We need weapons we’re comfortable using. And we need to hide Cyril.”

She’d hadn’t had the bandwidth to do anything other than run. How had Ford lifted her and had his weapon up to protect her while holding Cyril? Was it in the duffle he’d carried? “Where’s the cylinder?”

The bag wasn’t in the hallway, so she crouched down and moved to peek through the swinging door back into the kitchen. Sure enough, Ford’s duffle sat on the floor.

Staying as low as she could, she darted in, grabbed it, and returned to the hallway, heart thumping.

A quick peek inside showed Cyril nestled up with Ford’s clothes. “It’s so much smaller than I originally thought.”

The cylinder wasn’t even two feet long, maybe eight inches in diameter. Metallic with a seam near the top, showing it was a lid. Should she hide Cyril or carry the duffle so she didn’t lose it?

She returned Cyril to the duffel and slipped the handles over her shoulders so she could carry it like a backpack until they found a good hiding space. Thea nodded at her. “What do you think we should do?”

“I’m not sure, but waiting sucks. I want to know what’s happening and how we can help, but I don’t want to get in the way either.”

Thea nodded. “They’re trained for this, but I don’t like hiding without a way to help.”

“Me neither.”

They hadn’t heard anything more, so they walked to the end of the hall, near the front door of the farmhouse and the exterior door they never used as they always came in through the kitchen. No people were visible outside, but she felt like a target. “There aren’t any curtains, so I don’t think we should go this way.”

Thea agreed. “The room with Jay’s recliner has curtains and faces the side yard. Why don’t we start there? At the very least, we can look outside to see if the shooter is on that side.”

That view showed them nothing, and they’d seen no sign of Ford or Knox. “Do you think the guys went upstairs for a better view? Should we head up so that we’re not as easy to spot? Or should we stay down here where we don’t get trapped?”

Thea sighed. “I don’t know. Both options sound just as smart.”

“And they both sound just as stupid, too. I hate this.” Jolie sighed. “I want to peek out the back window. See if we can check on Hemsworth and Fox at least.”

Thea nodded, and they crept back to the kitchen, which would have the best view. They were almost there when another shot rang out. Glass shattered and the back door leading to the kitchen crashed open.

Taking Thea’s hand, she turned and ran, heading back to the far side of the house.

Ford cursed when he heard the shot and the glass shatter. The assholes had broken in the back door. Close to where he’d left Jolie and Thea.

Knox had taken the main level while Ford had raced up the stairs to get a view from the high ground. Not that he’d been able to spot anyone. Not with the number of trees on the ground and the overgrown gardens and bushes providing options for cover. He’d tried every window, but none had a good view.

He crept down the stairs, gun out and ready. He avoided the squeaky stairs and descended as quickly and silently as he could manage.

At the bottom, he waited for some clue to give him a direction. After the noise in the kitchen, he’d heard only silence. Did Knox have the women with him? Or were they on their own?