The Executioner (Professionals 10)

Guards or not, I was going to keep pursuing her, spending time with her, seeing where this thing between us was heading. But it was nice to be able to keep it private for just a while longer.

That was what was on my mind as I listened to Shawn bounce around up in the loft, looking for clothes to keep warm after catching a slight chill from the rain.

I was half-worried that her words were going to come true, that she might develop a cold. The other half of me was intrigued by the idea of taking care of her, of listening to her snap at me because there was no way that woman made a good patient.

Either way, I grabbed the pad out of the drawer, jotting down a note right under the one about getting a washing machine about getting a couple of robes and heavy winter coats to keep at the cabin in case of emergencies. Bob would stop by eventually, and it was better to get the wheels in motion sooner rather than later. Even if, in reality, there was a good chance I wouldn’t need to visit the cabin again for a good, long time. If ever again.

If things continued like I hoped they might with Shawn, I might consider fixing the place up a bit more, and then using it as a vacation house. It would be a fun place to make more memories. I already had quite a few of them that I didn’t ever want to forget.

If I hadn’t looked up from the notepad at exactly the right moment, I would have missed it.

A flicker of something shiny.

And nothing in nature was shiny like that.

Like metal.

My heart sped into overdrive as my hand went for the knife drawer, realizing I didn’t have any actual weapons nearby.

Panic was something unfamiliar to me, something the military had beaten out of me if it had ever existed at all. Being calm and collected was how you survived any situation.

But, for the first time in a really long time—maybe ever—, I had someone else to truly worry about. More so even than myself.

“Shawn!” I yelled as the outline of men closed in on the front door. “Run!” I roared as someone moved in front of the door, lifting a leg.

It was just a door. It wasn’t outfitted to withstand an infiltration. Because the damn place was supposed to be safe.

“Run!” I yelled again, rushing through the kitchen to cut off the stairs as Shawn seemed to sense the urgency and barreled down the stairs.

“I can—“ she started.

“Fucking run, Shawn,” I roared.

She didn’t argue.

Probably because the fucking door cracked and flew open.

And there they were.

A crew of men I might have once called brothers. You could tell ex-military by their posture, by the way they assessed a room. Brandon Adams liked his men trained in the finer points of combat and killing.

I was good at what I did. I had more training than most. But I wasn’t naive enough to believe I could stand up to five well-trained former service members.

So Shawn had to get a running head start.

I didn’t like the idea of her alone in the woods that scared the shit out of her, but I liked the idea of her having a remote possibility of getting away more than the certain rape or murder she was going to find inside the cabin.

There wasn’t technically an exit from the back of the house, but Shawn was quick enough to realize she had to go through the window and make a run for it.

If I managed to live, I would get Bob and have him come search the woods for me.

I had to be realistic, though, and the odds weren’t looking good.

“Fuck,” Shawn yelled, and I heard the window slamming. “They’re out there too,” she explained.

“Here,” I said, shoving the knife at her. “Hide in the pantry,” I demanded, swinging at the first guy who rushed at me.

“No, I can’t—“

“Go!” I yelled, slamming my fist into the bastard’s jaw, hearing a satisfying crack as his head whipped to the side. He’d been running. The momentum mixed with the impact of my fist sent him flying backward, knocking into one of his comrades, sending them both flying backward, crashing into the couch in the living room.

Behind me, I was half aware of the pantry door shutting, and heard shuffling sounds. Maybe Shawn barricading the doors with the wide shelving units in there. They wouldn’t help too much if all these guys got past me. But they’d give her the chance to start hauling cans and breaking pasta jars to use as knives.

How the fuck did this happen?

Adrenaline seemed to slow the scene down in front of me.

The two men who’d fallen were righting themselves even as two more made their way toward me.