Sadie's Game (Ashby Crime Family)

“Thomas.”

Seconds later, his footsteps sounded on the steps, and he appeared, wearing black silk boxers, an automatic weapon in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He must have seen the lights as well.

“People.” I sucked in a breath at the sight of him. “If they trying to kill me, I might fuck you again.”

His lips kicked up into a crooked grin.

“When we obliterate these assholes, I might let you. Get dressed.”

Once again, I did as he commanded.

And it made me shiver.

Chapter Twenty

Sadie

Thomas held a finger to his lips while we stood in a dark corner of the room, both of us breathing slow and quiet and watched the handheld surveillance unit. Two, maybe three cars crept up the long and winding driveway that I didn’t remember because I was asleep when we got here.

“Any idea who it is?” I whispered the question even though whoever it was hadn’t reached the cabin yet.

“No fucking clue,” Thomas growled in response. “It could be rogue cops, but we would have gotten word from some of the uniforms on the payroll. I don’t know. Maybe some young fucks trying to make a name for themselves. You are a popular woman.”

“Shit.” I was afraid of that. An unknown enemy. “New enemies cropping up every fucking day.”

“That’s the life of a badass.” His feet were on the move, and Thomas nodded for me to follow him, which I did—again—without comment. He went back upstairs, moving quickly but carefully toward his bedroom. In the closet that held his perfectly tailored clothes, Thomas tapped a spot, and the wall slid back. It was a false wall and behind that wall, a trove of weapons. A fuck ton of weapons.

“Grab what you can use,” he ordered, his serious expression turning me on even as I recognized this was the worst possible moment to be turned on.

I stared at the security unit he’d built for a long time, thinking that I didn’t know as much about Thomas as I thought. “Who are you?”

He looked up with a smile. “I would say your knight in shining armor, but we both know I’m no knight.”

I held up a nine-millimeter with a smile. “I don’t need a knight, Thomas. A man who gives me the cold hard steel of a gun is far more appealing.”

“Good to know,” he grinned and stood so we were face to face. “I’m glad to be of service.” He wrapped a belt around my waist and shoved it low on my hips before he stuck several magazine clips all around it. “You can reload that, right?”

“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “There’s not a gun on this planet that I can’t shoot, reload, clean, or take apart, Thomas.”

“I don’t know if you’re just bragging or trying to turn me on.” He winked and shoved nearly a dozen weapons and three times as much ammunition into a big leather bag.

A window downstairs broke, followed by the sound of footsteps, and we both froze for half a second.

“Come on.”

From the doorway of Thomas’ suite, I saw at least five intruders downstairs, maybe more. They were well-equipped with night vision goggles and automatic weapons. Luckily, Thomas had his own in his hand, finger resting beside the trigger.

I whispered, “How are we going to escape?”

He gestured down the hallway. “Head toward your room. Slowly. Quietly.”

“Now’s not the time, Thomas.”

“There’s a trap door in there,” he said around a grin.

The first shots rang out from below, and Thomas hissed, “Down!”

He shoved me to the ground before he sprayed bullets over the balcony, taking out two of the intruders.

I didn’t appreciate being pushed to the ground. I was nobody’s damsel in distress. I took care of myself, my people, and everyone in my fucking orbit. From my spot on the ground, I lined up a shot and squeezed the trigger, blasting one of the intruders right in the chest.

“Go!” Thomas’ shout pulled me to my feet, and I headed toward the guestroom, searching for the alleged trap door as the sound of feet on the steps grew closer and closer.

“Hold the bag,” Thomas growled.

His words caused some inappropriate thoughts, but this version of him was a revelation. Maybe this is who he just was, and I never allowed him to be, or I never looked closely enough. I didn’t know, but as I watched him shove the bed up against the door and pull back the butt-ugly checkered rug, I wanted to know more.

He waved to the open trap door. “You go first.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’m going to hide this door after we’re through it to buy us more time.”

He must have noticed my unconvinced expression because he sighed.

“You’re strong as hell, Sadie, but not strong enough to pull this bed back with one arm. Get down the goddamn ladder. Please.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” He draped the gun strap over his shoulder, and locked the bedroom door, and turned back to me. “I’m right behind you, Sadie.”