Page 106 of Hidden Resolution

“Please tell me your purse is close by, with your gun in there,” he said.

“No.” She pushed against his dead weight to determine the problem.

He swore under his breath and rolled to free her. “Okay, plan B. You get the fuck out of here. I’m assuming you’re familiar with the layout of this place?”

“Yeah, familiar enough. Come on.” She rose in a half-crouch and attempted to drag him with her. His resistance was unexpected.

“You go,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you, love.”

The strained edge gave him away. His tight, pale features added to the tale.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly, kneeling to search for his wound. “Where were you hit?”

Mason caught the hands tugging at his clothes. “Shonda, you need to save yourself.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not without a weapon to protect yourself.”

“God, you’re fucking fierce. I was a fucking idiot not to tell you how much I adore you before now.” With a trembling hand, he brushed back the hair falling over her eyes. “But your remaining here is not up for debate, love. I don’t trust the lull.” With a pained grimace, he gently nudged her. “Escape while you can. Please.”

“Mason—” She swallowed down the fear and regret. There was nothing like a surprise assault to make you recognize the important things in life.

His soft smile was understanding. “Go.”

Shonda delivered a hard kiss, then dashed for the dining room, all the while praying she’d calculated properly. With luck, she’d have time to get to her gun safe before their assailant got to Mason. Yes, he’d intended for her to leave the house and go for help. But there was no fucking chance in hell she’d leave him at the mercy of a crazed shooter.

Tiptoeing, she crept into her bedroom. Every few feet, she listened for the telltale signs of an intruder. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she ventured forth into her closet.

The safe was a floor model. Opening it was a simple matter of pulling back the faux rug and punching in the code. With the gun’s safety in the off position, she returned to the kitchen.

The conversation stopped her in her tracks, and she ducked into the dining room to listen.

“You aren’t such a badass now, huh?”

A crack and a thud followed the taunt.

Mason grunted. “You know, Billy Boy, I’d make haste if I were you. Shonda already called the police. You’ve got a few minutes tops to make good your escape.”

It was difficult to hear over her pounding pulse.

Billy? He was the one shooting at them? Why trail them here? Why not simply disappear and start over elsewhere?

“Shut the fuck up and tell me where she went,” Billy snarled. “If you do, I’ll make your death as painless as possible.”

Terror ripped its way out through her chest, and her adrenaline spiked, making her tremble. She could scarcely draw a proper breath. Sweat dampened her skin, dripping down into her eyes. Shonda swiped it with the back of her wrist and shifted the gun to her opposite hand to rub her clammy palm on her jeans.

Breathe, Shonda. Just breathe.

Slow and steady pace. Too fast and she’d hyperventilate.

Mason scoffed. “You’ve obviously watched one too many movies.”

Damn, but he possessed balls of steel if he was able to taunt Billy in the midst of an attack. His careless attitude drove her to the brink. God, he was begging to be murdered! Not smart.

“Have it your way, asshole.”

Billy’s intent left no room for doubt, and Shonda didn’t hesitate. Acting on pure instinct, she swung into the room, aimed center mass, and pulled the trigger.

Two shots through the back, straight to the heart.