If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

his hands and that was when she saw his phone. “The cavalry will be here soon.”
    She swallowed. Okay. Could they stay alive, though? Then she wanted to kick herself. Hell, yes, they’d stay alive. She hadn’t made it through all of this, found the bastard who’d killed her cousin, found
Law
 … to die
now
. None of them had come through this hell to die
now
.
    Backing away, she retraced her path into the living room. She kept low to the floor, scuttling along on her hands and knees. Seeing her bag there was a beautiful sight. Unzipping it, she reached inside, pulled out her gun.
    The solid, heavy feel of it in her hand was reassuring and she let herself breathe just a little easier. She wasn’t helpless—had never been helpless. He was a fool beyond measure if he thought she would go down easy. Taking one more, deep, steadying breath, she looked up and met Hope’s gaze, then shifted her attention to Lena.
    The two of them were crouched on the floor by the couch, Puck standing guard.
    “Law’s alive. The bullet hit him in the leg.” She looked at Hope, saw her pale face. “I opened the door for them to come in, but as soon as I did, the bastard shot at the door—they try to come in, they’ll get shot—at least that’s the message I got.”
    Hope whimpered and then clamped a hand over her mouth.
    Lena swallowed. “And the deputy?”
    “I didn’t see him.” She glanced toward the window, hidden by the shades and the curtains. “Remy wants us to stay together and hide. He’s already called for help. Now we just hide until help gets here. It’s your house, Lena. Where do we hide?”
    Law gritted his teeth against the pain, telling himself he wasn’t going to break down and whimper like a girl. And hell, if any of the women in the house heard that? They’d smack him. Yeah—that’s it, focus on anythingbesides the fact that his leg was screaming like a bitch, anything besides the blood that was still oozing out despite the makeshift tourniquet Remy had made of his tie.
    Panting, he looked at Remy. “You need to get in there with them.”
    Remy shot a glance at the door, then toward the trees. “Any time I try, he sends a nice loud message.”
    Yeah. Law had heard those messages, all four of them. Lena’s house was getting fucked up, big time. With a scowl, he said, “I don’t
care
—Nia’s in there. Hope. Lena. You think he’s cutting us off for jollies?”
    “No.” Remy looked down the porch. In a low voice, he called out, “Keith?”
    “I’m down here.” The whisper was practically lost in the night, it was so quiet.
    “You hurt?”
    “No.”
    Crouched in the dirt, his body hidden by the porch, Keith Jennings held his service revolver and stared into the night. He hadn’t been entirely honest. The shooter—and he had to assume it was Carter—had laid down a line of fire and Keith had taken a graze to his left arm, but it wasn’t anything that would slow him down.
    Remy’s voice floated to him again. “We need somebody in the house and I can’t—I move and he starts shooting again.”
    Yeah. Keith had noticed that. The shooter wouldn’t do it forever, though. He couldn’t, because
he
had plans to get in the house. And unless Keith was seriously mistaken, he’d already started to move.
    Still—going inside when he had a wounded man just a few feet away …
    His radio crackled. “Dispatch, come in. Son of a bitch, we’ve got a mess—”
    Swearing silently, he clamped a hand over it to mufflethe sound as he fought to turn it off. Another thunderous crack tore through the night. Something stung his face. Looking up, he squinted at the painted wood of the porch post.
    The light was dim, but he was pretty certain there was some damage to it—a bullet.
    The shooter had heard Keith’s radio.
    And judging by the angle, he was definitely moving through the woods. Circling around, heading to the back of the house. Damn it … “Are you two okay?”
    Law’s laugh was wracked with pain. “Oh, I’m just peachy, Deputy. Now would you get your ass in the house? He can’t
see
you.”
    Keith doubted the shooter would have been able to see the other two after another minute, but he didn’t point that out. He wanted those two out of the danger zone and if the shooter was heading around to the back, then the front was the safer place. “Remy?”
    “I’m fine,” he bit off. “Shit, I don’t think he wants to shoot me. If he did, I’d already be dead.”
    Yeah.