Jo needed. For now.
The front door rattled as another blow rocked it.
One hinge was barely hanging in there.
“Away from the door, now,” Elias barked.
“Do it,” Jo said from right behind him.
Why hadn’t he told her about the Kevlar? None of them were wearing body armor.
“They found us. How did they find us?” Isaac wailed.
“Go get your shit. Now,” Jo ordered.
Isaac glanced between them. Elias noted the man didn’t have a weapon.
Another blow set the top hinge flying.
Whoever was on the other side of the door wasn’t terribly strong. That, or they didn’t have experience breaking into places.
Jo stared at the door with a coldness that was familiar to Elias, then raised her gun, aiming it at the door.
“You can’t shoot through it,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Everything in this condo is reinforced.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
Elias reached down and drew his gun. He’d kept his practice up, though it wasn’t something he enjoyed. Hell, the last time he’d aimed a weapon at a human was before the accident.
Cold sweat broke out along his spine.
He would protect Jo. He’d stand at her side, facing down the threat.
“Does Isaac have a gun?” he asked.
“Yes.” Jo turned her head, watching the hall. “You think he suspects us?”
“I think these people couldn’t have found us without some help.” He’d have to think through their next moves if they believed Isaac was working against them. They could always use that to their advantage, but it had to be done with purpose.
“Come on, Isaac,” she snapped.
“Are you a fucking fed?” Isaac’s voice vibrated. Was that fear, anger, a combination or something else?
Jo coolly glanced at the man. “Now isn’t the time to discuss that. You know I’m not.”
The door rattled and someone called out something from the hall.
“I don’t know anything,” Isaac said.
This was going south fast. If Isaac was armed and suspected them, their flank was vulnerable.
Elias would have to do something.
“Get down!” Jo lunged for Isaac, tackling him to the floor.
The front door banged open, halfway falling off the hinges.
Elias fired. He couldn’t let these assholes get to Jo. It was his job to watch her back. He squeezed the trigger again, his eyes aimed at the figure in black standing in the hall. The man pitched backward while another stepped into sight. Elias ducked behind the kitchen counter to regroup.
“Get me out of here, man,” a frantic male voice said in the hallway.
“Elias,” Jo snapped.
He moved, understanding her order without words. She had her eyes on Isaac, making sure he didn’t attack from behind. But they still needed to deal with the threat at their door.
Elias crouched, crossing to the entry.
Blood smeared the wall and pooled on the floor. Two figures were making a hasty retreat toward the elevator.
“Let them go or go after them?” His voice sounded so unusual, almost as if it were far away.
“Let them go,” Jo said. “We have bigger fish to fry. They probably just wanted to eliminate the competition.”
Elias grit his teeth. Yeah, he was going to hear about this from his boss. The condo hadn’t been officially broken in and already there would be repairs.
“We need to move. Now. They’ll be back,” he said over his shoulder.
“What the hell?” Isaac bellowed.
“I was protecting you, dumbass,” Jo bit back.
Elias backed away from the door and glanced at Isaac now sitting on the hardwood scowling at Jo. His bag was on the ground and a holstered weapon in his hand. Was he trying to protect himself? Or had he been about to attack them? It was hard to say. Isaac didn’t seem like a man of action, at least not the shooting and killing variety.
They’d have to keep a close eye on him.
“You good?” Elias aimed the question at Jo.
“Yeah.” She shoved her weapon into her holster. “We need to get out of here. Get our shit and go.”
“I’m on it.”
Elias turned. He could feel the icy protective layer thawing and inside he was close to shaking apart.
He’d shot at another person today.
The shakes in his hands didn’t start until he was back in the bedroom.
Elias couldn’t say what it was, exactly, that had stuck with him from the accident. But something had happened to his subconscious that altered how he reacted under stress. Which was why he’d focused on jobs that kept him behind the scenes and insulated from direct danger. But once again Christmas had brought disaster.
Once in the bedroom he holstered his weapon. Bracing his hands on the dresser, he let his head drop forward and blew out a