Lace & Lead

He stumbled on the stairs, knees giving out with relief. There she was. Standing at the hall entrance that led down to the kitchen, looking at him like he was crazy.

Maybe he was.

“What’s wrong?” She took a step toward him and all he could think about was grabbing her and taking her upstairs and keeping her safe until Douglass and Kai were there to help him—

The world exploded.

The heavy wooden front door splintered, chunks flying through the entryway, one catching his temple and making his vision go pale and his head ring with an eerie hum. The front windows shattering as bullets slammed through them. Emma had thrown herself to the ground, covering her head and neck with her arms. Peirce ignored the wetness dripping down the side of his face, pulled out his gun, watched the doorway, crept toward Emma and focused on protecting her from whatever was coming.

A small group of men in body armour stormed the room, sweeping their assault rifles as entered. They were only looking at eye-level, were grouped tightly, exposing necks and heads because they couldn’t manoeuvre themselves any other way.

Fish in a fucking barrel.

Five gentle squeezes on the trigger. The two in front went first, crumpling, then the two behind. The fifth actually figured out the shots were coming from below, but he was too slow to draw in time.

Peirce finished crawling to Emma, who was staring at the fallen men in shock. Her eyes widened and she reached out a shaking hand to the side of his head. “You’re hurt,” she whispered.

“Later,” he said, confirming her concern and grabbed an assault rifle off the nearest body. A quick check to ensure it wasn’t damaged. He pocketed a spare magazine and looked both ways down the hall.

“What do we do?” Emma asked quietly.

“We need to get you somewhere safe.”

“The tunnels?”

“They’ll know about them this time.”

“Upstairs?”

He contemplated it. “Kai and Douglass are on their way. I don’t know how long. And these bastards hacked the security feed. I’m not sure I could hold them from the room.”

She pursed her lips. “There aren’t a lot of safe places in the house if they have access to the cameras.”

“I know.”

“What about outbuildings? Barn? Garage? Root cellar?”

“Root cellar means we’re trapped. Barn isn’t too far.”

“Neither is the garage,” she pointed out, “and it has cars in it.”

Peirce nodded. He’d worked on the old farm equipment during his two weeks on the estate. He’d thought it would be useful to have the vehicles—outdated though they may be—up and running in case an emergency came up.

Good thing he’d planned ahead.

He could hear the sound of additional vehicles approaching the estate. There was only one road in, so if he timed it right, they could reach the garage through the gardens and miss the newest teams. Time to decide.

Emma was looking at him, her mouth tight, but clearly trusting of whatever he decided. He hated to do this, but it was the only way to make sure she’d live.

Peirce pressed the pistol into her hand. “Don’t shoot unless you have to,” he said curtly. “They’re wearing armour, so centre mass won’t help much.”

“Okay.”

“We’re going three rooms down that hall,” he gestured. She could see it in her head—out the lower office with its dual doors opening into the gardens. “Into the garden. Hug the nearest wall. They’re going to come for us, so we’ve got to move fast.”

“I will.”

His eyes flashed and he pressed a desperate kiss to her lips. Funny, kissing me is what got him into this mess in the first place…