Hunter knew something was wrong the instant he pulled into the driveway.
No SUV. No work truck. No vehicles at all.
He pulled the parking brake but didn’t cut the engine.
“What’s wrong?” said Kate.
“No cars.”
They’d pulled off the highway to put the top back on the jeep, and just now, the interior of the car was ice cold.
He didn’t think it was him this time.
The longer they waited here, the more he was going to feel like a sitting duck. His father’s lessons were rattling around in his head, telling him he should have parked somewhere else and approached the house under cover.
Kate’s breath was fogging on the window.
Hunter yanked the keys out of the ignition and unlocked the glove box.
Kate’s eyes went wide when she saw the gun. “You’ve been armed this whole time?”
He gave her a look. “Tell me you’re not.”
“I don’t have a gun.”
“What do you have?”
“Maybe you can find out later.” Then she turned and slid out of the jeep.
God, she was killing him.
Nothing was amiss in the yard, but he felt too exposed on the walk to the front door. Especially when they found it unlocked.
No, not just unlocked. Slightly ajar.
Hunter paused there on the front porch and opened his senses, asking the elements for information. The power to the house had been turned off: either someone had thrown the master breaker in the basement, or the power had been cut. He didn’t sense any electricity. Just quiet air that carried no malice.
He had the gun in his hand anyway.
His back was to the house, so he could see as much of the yard as possible. Nothing moved.
But he couldn’t shake this feeling of wrongness, and it seemed foolish to walk straight into a house left this way.
Casper was alert and silent by his side, waiting for a command.
“Go ahead,” said Kate. Her voice was a bare breath of sound. “I’ll cover you.”
Well. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having an ally.
He slipped through the door, all the while hearing his father’s voice in his head.
Shadow shadow shadow shadow.
He wondered what his father would think of his activities in this exact moment.
The main level was unoccupied. Kate was a shadow herself, moving so silently that he could almost forget she was there—hell, Casper’s nails made more sound on the tiled entryway. He’d never worked with someone like this, someone who knew how to move, who could fall back on training and use it to her advantage.
The kitchen was clean, no food left on the counters.
But no sign of struggle or distress, either.
Then again, the cars were gone and the power dead. The Merricks weren’t here, but he had no idea whether they’d left voluntarily.
Kate pointed to the refrigerator.
Hunter eased it open.
Empty. Completely empty.
The breath left his chest in a whoosh.
Empty. If they’d been chased from the house, or kidnapped, or whatever, they wouldn’t have emptied the refrigerator.
Hunter was completely unprepared for the crushing weight of disappointment and loss. It socked him in the gut and made it hard to breathe. He’d known they were planning on leaving—had actually counted on it—but he hadn’t expected them truly just to ditch him here without a word.
He dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and rubbed his hands over his face.
“There’s no one here,” he said. “They left.”
God, he sounded pathetic.
Kate dropped into the chair beside him. She didn’t say anything.
She was probably thinking he was such an idiot for trusting them. Or maybe he was the one thinking that.
He wondered if they’d been planning this all along. Throw a party, distract him, get him to hook up with Kate—
Wait. It had been his idea to leave.
For god’s sake, though, he’d stood outside and listened to Michael’s bullshit last night, and they’d been planning to walk out on him.
He’d felt guilty about the fight with Gabriel. About letting Nick down.
He wanted to put his fist through this table. Casper thrust his nose into Hunter’s hand, and he patted the dog absently.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said quietly.
He lifted his eyes to find hers. “I knew it was coming.”
She inhaled like she was going to say something—but must have thought better of it.
Instead, she reached out and put her hand over his.
And that meant more than any other way she’d touched him.
He turned his hand and caught her fingers, then squeezed.
Her phone beeped, and she jumped.
“Silver?” he said.
She glanced at the screen and shoved it back in her pocket. “No. Battery died. All that Internet searching.”