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The door suddenly slammed open and Rich stood in the doorway, a frantic look on his face. “Someone’s at the door.”

Hope rose within Blake but she kept her expression impassive. “Expecting company, Suzanne?”

“It’s Amber. Get it right,” Rich snapped, glaring at his wife. “And yeah, expecting company, honey?”

“No.” She looked at Blake. “Who could it be?”

Blake knew exactly who it could be. “I have no clue. Why don’t you answer the door?”

“Hell, no. The guy beat on it like he wanted to break it down.” Rich ran a hand through his hair and she noticed his shaking fingers. Reaching behind him, he pulled the large handgun from beneath his waistband and held it in front of him.

Blake drew in a harsh breath. Did he plan on using it on Mason? God, she hoped not. She knew he wore his protection vest when they were in DC and he’d worn it when they first arrived on island. But he’d become lazy, hadn’t donned it in weeks. There’d been no need to.

Or so he thought.

“Where is he now?” Suzanne asked.

“I don’t know. He knocked, I didn’t answer, and he stopped. I checked outside the window, hoping to get a look at him, but I saw no one. Not even a car. And it’s raining like a bitch outside.” Rich started toward the window, staring out at the flooding backyard. “There’s nowhere for him to hide. I need to find the son of a bitch.”

“Maybe he left.” Suzanne smiled, trying to encourage him, Blake could tell. “I’m sure it was nothing. Just someone at the wrong house or something. Don’t worry about it.”

“I should go and check.” He looked like the last thing he wanted was to go outside. The rain would soak him in two seconds flat. “Make sure everything is in the clear.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Suzanne started but he silenced her with a quick slap of his fingers against her cheek. The loud smack sounded in the room, followed by her startled gasp and she fell back on the bed, grasping her cheek.

Blake sat on the edge of the bed, wide-eyed with shock. He pointed the gun at her, waving it haphazardly and she swallowed hard. She’d been so worried about Mason getting shot she didn’t think this bozo would turn the gun on her.

“You backtalk me, you’re next. Got it?”

Blake nodded. “Got it,” she whispered.

“Good. I’m going outside. If either of you try to sneak out, I’m shooting first and asking questions later.” He exited the room, slamming the door behind him and Blake bent forward, released a shuddering breath. She covered her face with her hands but refused to cry.

She felt utterly helpless, worried where Mason was, praying he wouldn’t get shot. Hoping he was safe.

“We should try and leave,” Suzanne said, startling Blake.

Blake stared at her, her gaze lingering on the red mark across Suzanne’s face and she shook her head in disbelief. “Are you crazy? Did you hear what he said?”

Suzanne shrugged and stood, going to the small closet. “I have nothing to lose. I’ve already died once. If I die again, at least I tried to get away. I can’t imagine what my life will be like if I’m forced to spend it with him.”

“Why can’t you get away? Does he have that much of a hold on you?”

“It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand.” She grabbed a jacket from the closet and shrugged it on, flipping her long, dark hair over the collar. “I have to try and get out of here. If you want to stay, have at it. But I’m leaving.”

Blake stood and went to block the door. “What you’re suggesting is insane. You can’t go out there. He has a gun. And he seems more than ready to use it. You don’t want to get shot, do you?”

Suzanne’s lips thinned and she nodded toward the door. “Get out of the way, Blake. I want out.”

“He’ll hurt you.” Blake scrambled, desperate to say more and keep Suzanne there. She wonde

red why the threat of a gun wasn’t enough of a deterrent.

“He’s hurt me for years. I can’t take it anymore.” She shoved Blake out of the way and went for the handle, throwing the door open. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess. I hope you can forgive me.”

Suzanne exited the room and started down the hall, didn’t even bother looking back but kept her head held high, her strides careful. Blake peeked around the edge of the bedroom door, watched as Suzanne entered the living room, her steps cautious, her head constantly flicking this way and that.

Blake swallowed hard. Where was Rich? Had he gone outside? Out back or out front? And where the hell would Suzanne go?


Tags: Karen Erickson Protect and Defend Romance