“Stay silent!” Mac mouthed to Keiley, pointing to the corner of the room that would hide her from the doorway.
She eased back, her eyes widening with fear as a tremor shook her frame. They had discussed this, how if trouble ever came, she would make certain Mac wasn’t hindered by her inexperience.
Silently, he jerked a dresser drawer open as Jethro zipped up the jeans and pulled two Glocks free along with the extra clips. The third, a smaller version, he loaded quickly, and strode to where Keiley was hugging the wall. He pressed the weapon in her hand, pointed to the safety, then pointed to the floor. She flattened herself to the carpet.
Rounding back, Mac caught Jethro’s attention and pointed to the door. They moved from the room quickly, weapons at their shoulders, bodies prepared.
It had been three years since he had been with the Bureau, but Mac hadn’t forgotten the chill of danger that he felt racing up his spine.
Following Jethro’s hand signals, they moved to the stairs, Mac covering him as he started down the stairs. He couldn’t hear whatever Jethro had heard, but he could feel it. Someone had invaded his home.
Jethro held up a hand, a finger flicking to the living room where they had just given Keiley the pleasure he had dreamed of giving her.
Mac listened carefully, but all he heard was the ticking of the clock just inside the room and the silence of the dim house.
Jethro was tense, listening as he flattened himself against the wall. His finger curled toward the room, indicating he would go in low and fast. Bracing himself, Mac moved into place on the opposite side of the steps and nodded at Jethro’s quick glance.
Jethro moved fast, throwing himself into the living room before Mac ducked and rolled into the opposite side of the doorway. His weapon came up, his senses alive with the silence that filled the room.
There was nothing but silence. His gaze swept over the dimly lit room. At first, nothing seemed out of place until his gaze speared to the cushioned stool and chair where Keiley had lain.
It had been moved. Her clothes were inches from where they had been, and her panties were missing. White lace that had been wet with her sexy juices.
“Keiley,” he hissed, turning and racing back up the stairs.
His chest tightened with sudden terror, fear pumping through his mind as adrenaline raced through his body. He tore into the bedroom, coming to a hard, furious stop as he glimpsed Keiley. She stood in the corner, her back flat against the wall as she stared at the French doors that led onto the balcony.
She was out of line of a shot, but her weapon was held in a two-handed grip and pointing at the door latch. Ominously, with sinister intent, the brass door latch shifted.
Mac didn’t think first. He fired.
“Motherfucker!” he yelled, running to the shattered doors as Keiley screamed and Jethro threw himself through the glass.
Following, Mac came to a crouch, weapon raised as he heard Pappy’s furious barking below.
“Pappy, down!” he yelled as he gripped the railing and threw himself over the banister.
He hit the ground in a roll, coming up behind the heavy cement fountain that sat feet away. He was aware of Jethro rolling to the opposite side, taking cover behind the aging dogwood that grew alongside the house and led to the balcony.
A motorcycle roared to life from the front of the house, and even as Mac dug in his heels and raced for the front drive he knew he was too late.
“Bastard! You f**king bastard!” he snarled as he caught the receding lights of the dirt bike in the distance.
Aiming, he emptied the clip into the distance, rage beating through his blood as he heard Jethro cursing behind him.
“Son of a bitch!” His fist slammed into the side of his pickup. “You bastard!”
“Mac.” Jethro rushed to his side. “He’s gone, man.”
“Keiley.” Mac turned and rushed for the house, ready to kick in the front door rather than pausing to unlock it when it suddenly opened.
His weapon came up, pointing straight into Keiley’s horrified face as Jethro cursed violently behind him.
“God damn you! Damn you, I told you to stay put!” Mac yelled into her pale, tear-soaked face as he gripped her shoulders and pushed her into the house.
Fear was an entity possessing him. Rage beat at his brain as he pressed her against the wall, glaring into her wide, horrified eyes as he restrained himself from shaking her.
“What don’t you understand about staying put, Kei?” he yelled. “I could have blown your f**king head off!”