Sheltered. HelenKay DimonЧитать онлайн книгу.
until the walls pounded in on her.
He kicked off his shoes and stepped into the hallway. The floorboards creaked under his weight.
She thought about diving out the window but had no idea what lurked out there. Forcing her mind to focus, she grabbed for the nightstand drawer. Punched in the lock code and had the gun loaded and in her hand as she crept out behind Hank.
“I am not going to let you touch my girlfriend.” He kept his back against the wall as he slid farther down the hall toward the family room. “Leave now and this ends fine.”
My girlfriend? Her mind stuck there and refused to unstick. The most she could do was stand up and get to the bedroom doorway.
She stopped in time to see the collision. Hank took one more step and a body smashed into him. She aimed her gun, but only darkness greeted her. The two men were locked in battle, rolling like a ball across her floor. She heard grunts and saw arms rise and fall. One back thumped against the hallway wall, then another.
Lightning flashed and she saw blond hair and a dark jacket. She didn’t recognize the intruder. Only Hank. She could make him out as he landed punch after punch against the blond’s jaw.
Thunder boomed and then an eerie quiet fell over the back of the house. The men tumbled as they slipped out of sight. Something fell to the floor with a crash, but the usual buzz of the lights and hum of the refrigerator had stopped. She reached out and flicked the switch by her head, but nothing happened. Either the storm knocked out the power or a group of men outside her home did. She hated both options.
Gripping the gun, she stepped into the hall and tried to make out one figure from the other. She didn’t know Hank and didn’t owe him anything, but he could have dragged her outside and handed her to the blond. He hadn’t, and the confusion from that kept her from shooting him now.
But she could see shapes. Hank had the blond on the floor. Hank’s legs pinned the guy, and an arm hooked around his neck. Looked to her as though her make-believe boyfriend had this one won. Nothing about that realization had her relaxing.
The scuffle continued. The blond’s heels smacked against the floor. The battle seemed to be dying down until another figure stepped into the far end of the hall opposite her. Her insides chilled and her body shook hard enough for her teeth to rattle. She couldn’t make out his face but got the impression he was staring at her. Waiting.
One swing of his arm and he knocked Hank’s head into the wall. She aimed, ready to fire at anyone who came toward her. But the newest man reached down and dragged the blond to his feet. Then they were gone.
She stood there, unable to think. Unable to breathe.
“Lindsey?” Hank stumbled to his feet as he scooped his gun off the floor. “You okay?”
His voice snapped her out of her stupor. She reached inside her bedroom and ripped the emergency flashlight out of the socket, then grabbed the second one she kept just inside the bathroom door.
She fumbled to hold them both in one hand and aimed them in Hank’s direction. He blinked as he rubbed one hand over the back of his head. The other one, the one with the weapon, dropped to his side.
His gaze traveled over her, and then he frowned. “Where did you get a gun?”
Not exactly the response she’d expected, but until he asked she forgot she held it. “It’s mine.”
“Maybe you could lower it.”
She wanted to ask if he was okay. After all, unless he’d put on some great show, he’d just saved her from two intruders storming in and taking her away. But that wasn’t where her mind went. “Who are you?”
At first she didn’t think he heard her. He walked through the small house. Checked the front door. Looked outside.
He finally turned back to her. “You should think of me as Hank Fletcher. A handyman who blew into town looking for work. We met, started dating and now I’m at your house most nights.”
Wrong answer, and that was before she got to the boyfriend thing. She ignored that part completely. “But that’s not who you are.”
“No.”
At least he didn’t lie or try to shrug her off. But she still wanted an answer. “Tell me or the gun stays up.”
He leaned against the armrest of her couch. “Holt Kingston, undercover with the Corcoran Team, and right now the best hope you have of not being dragged up to the compound and questioned.”
She had no idea what any of that meant but grabbed on to the “undercover” part and hoped that stood for police or law enforcement. Really, anyone with a gun and some authority who could help.
Going further, the idea of trusting him even the slightest bit brought her common sense to a screeching halt. But as much as it grated, there was something about him. It had been that way from the beginning. She’d seen him in town and driving the New Foundations truck and she couldn’t stop watching. She chalked the reaction up to being cautious, but what she was thinking of doing right now, letting him in if only an inch, struck her as reckless.
Even now, standing there in his underwear, with this massive chest and...well, everything looked pretty big. Still, the fear that had gripped her body and held it to that spot in the hall eased away. Tension buzzed through the room, but the panic had subsided.
Ignoring the warning bells dinging in her head, she verbally reached out. “So, you know New Foundations is a cult.”
“Oh, Lindsey.” He shook his head. “It’s worse than that. So much more dangerous and threatening.”
At least he understood that much about the place that starred in her nightmares. That was more than her father ever understood. “Okay, then.”
His shoulders dropped a little, as if the tension stiffening them had ratcheted down. “So, we’re good?”
No way was she going that far. Not yet. Probably not ever. “Let’s just say I’m willing to hear you out.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
She let the hand with the gun drop to her side but didn’t let go. “Talk fast.”
Holt felt the tension ease from his shoulders the second she dropped the gun. The close call would teach him to break protocol. He’d overheard two New Foundations bruisers talking about grabbing Lindsey and snapped into action. Gone to her house and the rest was a combination of pure luck and timing.
Not that he usually dropped cover. He rescued for a living. That was what the Corcoran Team did. Worked undercover in off-the-books operations, preventing kidnappings before they happened and when called in too late, being the first to rush in and get victims out. Hired by governments and corporations, they performed work others couldn’t.
His three-man team moved constantly but reported back to the main office in Annapolis. Connor Bowen owned the company and ran the show, including the four agents who worked out of Maryland. Holt only had to check in with one person—Connor—and the boss would not like how this assignment had spun out.
Holt could hardly admit getting his head turned by a pretty woman. And Lindsey Pike definitely qualified as that. She possessed a girl-next-door prettiness. The shiny brown hair with streaks of blond. The big green eyes. The confident way she moved around the town of Justice, Oregon, the most ill-named town ever.
She’d intrigued him from day one, and hearing she was in trouble tonight got him moving.
Now he figured he had about ten seconds to convince her that he was one of the good guys or see her whip out that gun again. Actually, from the frown, maybe more like five.
“Tell me exactly why you’re here.” Her expression didn’t