Undercover Texas - By Robin Perini Page 0,7

to his feet, blocking the shot, and Terence shoved the guy into Clay and fired.

Clay spun to the side, shaking off the kid, then dove at Terence’s weapon. They grappled for his gun and it went off again.

The shot slammed into the wood near Erin’s head.

She screamed and ducked down, holding her son tight. Her briefcase and diaper bag slid to the floor. Dragging them, Erin scooted backward toward the door. She had to get Brandon out of here. They needed help. Maybe someone had heard the shots and had already called the police.

Blood spattered the floor where she had just been sitting. She flinched as Clay slammed his fist into Terence’s face for what was obviously not the first time. Blood spewed from man’s mouth and he growled like a feral animal, his eyes wild and insane.

He gripped Clay’s shirt in bloody hands and yanked Clay forward into a brutal head butt. Clay’s head snapped back. He grunted, then twisted his body, grasped the madman’s arms and flipped the guy over onto his back. The floorboards shook from the impact. Clay tried to pin Terence, but he kept fighting.

The younger man, dazed and wobbly, rose to his knees and started scrounging for his loose gun on the floor.

“Clay,” Erin shouted. “Watch out!”

Unable to break away from Terence, Clay kicked the other man’s gun away, “Get my backup weapon from my ankle holster and cover him.”

Still holding the screaming baby, Erin scrambled to her feet, dashed over to Clay and yanked a small pistol from its holster.

The distraction gave Terence the advantage. “Fool, she’s your weakness. It’s every man for himself.” He slammed his fist into Clay’s kidney. He doubled up, and the thug pinned him to the floor. A second later, Clay retaliated, breaking the hold.

Erin caught movement from the corner of her eye and whipped the gun toward the smaller assailant. “Don’t move,” she warned him, flipping off the safety. “I’ll shoot.”

The young man looked at her shaking hands and sneered. “You don’t have the guts.”

He aimed the gun at Clay and Erin squeezed the trigger. A vase just left of the guy’s head shattered. The kid dropped his gun, “Holy hell—” He thrust his hands into the air.

“Get down,” she shouted. Brandon, hysterical now, screamed nonstop. She tugged him close, even as her finger twitched on the trigger.

Clay finally pinned Terence and jammed a forearm against the idiot’s windpipe. “Who sent you?”

A small ding sounded on the guy’s watch. He smiled. “Don’t matter. You should’ve killed me and run. The house is rigged to explode in forty-five seconds.”

Clay punched Terence and shoved him aside, then swept up Erin, the baby and her laptop and yanked them to the doorway. “Go! Go! Go!”

Still cradling Brandon, Erin stumbled through the door and took off across the lawn, her purse smacking off her legs. Clay was behind her, urging her to head left, toward her neighbor’s property. Once they rounded the low hedge, she glanced back.

The smaller masked gunman staggered out, holding his crotch and breaking into a panicked run.

Terence followed, blood coursing down his battered face. “You’re dead!” He bolted across the lawn, his gun raised.

Clay dragged Erin behind a huge Hummer in her neighbor’s driveway and yanked the backseat door open. “Get in!”

She ducked her head as he shoved her inside, then crawled over her into the driver’s seat. Bullets ricocheted off the vehicle and windshield. The Hummer had bulletproof glass? She hunkered down against the floorboards, clutching the terrified baby, when a huge explosion rocked the car. Bricks, boards and flaming debris rained down on the lawn and the vehicle.

Dear God, her house had erupted in a fireball, flames licking the darkening sky like crazy, writhing snakes. The two men attacking them had been slammed to the ground. The psycho, his sleeve on fire, stumbled to his feet and raised his weapon again.

She bent down, sheltering Brandon.

Clay rammed the Hummer into gear and careened into the street. The car skidded and swerved, throwing Erin back against the bottom of the backseat. Her laptop and the contents of her purse scattered. She hugged her son to her chest, struggling for balance.

Clay gunned the engine and the Hummer lurched forward, speeding away in a squeal of tires. He careened around several corners, driving like a NASCAR racer until he finally slowed a bit. “You okay?”

“Not even close.” Erin shook uncontrollably as the adrenaline drop racked her system. “Clay...who were those men? Why were they trying to kidnap me?”

He glanced

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