“Let her go, Mac,” Jethro said in a dangerous voice, his hands locking on Mac’s wrists. “God damn it, you’re hurting her. Let her go.”
He was thrown back as Jethro moved between him and his wife.
“Get the f**k out of my way.” He went to push past his friend, to get to his wife, to make certain she was alive even if he was madder than hell.
He had never been so furious in his life. Never so terrified as he was at the thought that that bastard had slipped upstairs and nearly caught her undefended.
“Not until you calm down!” Jethro yelled back at him. “She’s f**king terrified. Don’t make it worse.”
“I nearly f**king killed her.” He pushed Jethro back, then stared at Keiley’s crumpled form.
“God. Kei. Baby.”
She was sobbing silently against the wall, her face pressed into it her hands, her shoulders hunched against the force of the violence raging through her room.
Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to him gently. So gently. His hands touched her hair, her shoulders, his arms contracting around her as he closed his eyes against the moisture suddenly filling them.
“Kei, baby,” he whispered at her ear. “I’m sorry. Ah, God. Sweetheart. I almost killed you, Kei. I would have died. Do you know that?” He pressed his lips to her brow as she shook in his arms, sobs tearing through her. “Keiley, I would have died. I couldn’t live, baby. I couldn’t live—” He couldn’t live without her.
Her arms latched around his neck, holding tight as the sobs became louder, as the shaking became worse.
“I have you.” He bent over her, sheltering her, aware of Jethro moving closer, his hands touching her back, pressing her closer to Mac as he sheltered her from behind. She was surrounded. No one could touch her now. Nothing could touch her.
But something, someone nearly had.
“I’m sorry!” she cried out. “I heard the motor racing away. Heard the shots. I was scared, Mac. So scared—”
“Never, ever again, Keiley,” he ordered, his voice rough, shaking with fear and pain. “Swear to me. Never again. You hide. You don’t face anything. Especially not me without warning. Never again, Keiley.”
“Never.” Her head shook, her body trembled. “Oh God, Mac. What’s happening? What’s going on?”
Lifting his head, he looked over her shoulder to Jethro. His friend lifted his hand, and between his fingers were the white lace panties that had been missing from the living room.
Beneath the balcony, Jethro mouthed.
“I don’t know yet, honey,” he answered Keiley, flicking Jethro a hard look as he tucked the material out of sight.
Easing her back, he stared into her pale face, his gaze going over her quickly, searching for injuries.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sniffed, her hands going over his shoulders, his chest, and his abdomen, obviously ascertaining that he was just as fine. “Just terrified. Mac, who would be that stupid?”
“I don’t know yet.” He drew her back into his arms, watching as Jethro moved back into the living room and stood staring around. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
12
Her home was a damned crime scene. She wasn’t allowed in past the living room door. She was to stay out of the way, but she was to stay close, and she was more terrified than she had ever been in her life.
Keiley sat on the stairs, the boxed pizza sitting untouched beside her, a half-empty glass of wine clutched in her hands as Jethro and Mac dusted the living room for fingerprints. They hadn’t called the sheriff. They had called Jethro’s boss, then began investigating.
She had no idea Mac had kept all the equipment he had from his time in the Bureau. But he had. Stored in a large duffel bag in the attic had been stuff she hadn’t even recognized and hadn’t understood as he tried to explain some of it. All she did understand was that it seemed to be connected to an old case of Mac’s.
Finally, she had taken her wine and moved to the stairs, where Mac had sat the pizza after collecting it from the delivery boy. A boy who hadn’t even gotten out of his truck. Mac had met him in the driveway with the money and sent him on his way before striding into the house, ordering her to eat, then joining Jethro back in the living room.
She could hear their voices and had managed to catch part of the conversation. Something about her panties under the balcony. Someone had stolen her panties.
She pushed her fingers through her hair, took another sip of the wine and rose to her feet. She moved cautiously back to the doorway, aware of the wary looks Mac and Jethro were casting her as she watched them.