Spurred (Steele Ranch 1)

I glanced around, heard a creak in the floorboards. The person was headed to the master bedroom. He was looking for me!

There was no place to hide, and so I did the only thing I could think of. The only place I might be safe. I went out the window.

7

RILEY

When Cord’s cell rang and he held it up for me to see Kady’s name on the screen, I grinned and my cock got instantly hard. We were almost back to town after a long day in Helena. I’d had to testify, but Cord’s testimony hadn’t been necessary and we were both excused. We decided against spending the night there, wanting to be back so we could see Kady first thing. Just as Cord had asked her, I’d assumed she wanted a late-night romp of phone sex, or maybe asking us to come over for the real deal, glad we’d driven back when we did.

We hadn’t expected her to tell us there was someone in the fucking house. When Cord told me what was happening, his voice losing all the teasing banter to be replaced with military precision, I slammed on the brakes and we were thrust into our seatbelts, the tires skidding on the pavement. I did a one-eighty and gunned it until the turnoff for the ranch. I took the road at ninety—thankful it was straight and flat—but had to hope no deer decided to jump in our path.

Cord fiddled with his phone, put it to his ear again.

“Jamison, Kady said there’s someone in the main house,” Cord said into the phone. “A robber. Burglar. Hell, Santa Claus. Get up there because she’s alone. We just turned off the county road. Good. Just don’t shoot us when we come in.”

As I death-gripped the steering wheel and tried to remain calm enough to drive, I listened to Cord as he finished the call with Jamison, then Sutton at the bunkhouse, hoping one of them would get to Kady before us.

At the rate we were going, we’d be there in five minutes. So much could happen in that timeframe. Too much.

“Who the fuck is in the house?” I asked when he dropped his cell in his lap.

“And why?” he countered, looking out the windshield at the darkness. “Are they after Kady? What the fuck does someone want with a schoolteacher?”

“Maybe someone heard the house has been vacant and finally decided to rob it,” I tossed out.

“It’s been months and the ranch isn’t exactly abandoned. Fifteen men fucking live there. Why now?”

I had no answer and neither did he. We were supposed to protect Kady, and yet we pretty much held our dicks in our hands as some bastard went after her.

“Shut off your lights before you go over the rise. Go real slow over the cattle guard and stop short of the house.”

I did as Cord said—his military training was serving us well because I’d planned to drive right up to the damned porch—and as soon as I turned off the engine, we were running toward the house. It was dark, only the exterior light by the front door was on.

“I’ll go around back,” I murmured, and we split up.

Right then, a shot rang out, echoing across the empty prairie. I stopped, spun on my heel. “Fuck the back door,” I muttered and followed Cord up the porch steps and into the house at a sprint.

Jamison was at the base of the stairs and turned when we barged in.

“Clear!” The yell came from upstairs.

Jamison nodded and we took the steps two at a time.

“In here.” It was Sutton and we followed his voice to the master bedroom. He flicked on the light and there he was, rifle in hand, standing over a body. Thank fuck, a man, not Kady.

I was breathing hard as we looked down at the fucker. White, mid-thirties. Bald, black t-shirt and jeans. Tattoo on his right arm. Blood was coming from a wound in his chest. Sutton had shot him right in the heart and there was no question he was dead.

“Bullseye,” Sutton said, his voice low. Deadly. I didn’t know his background, but he was rock steady as if he’d done this before. He had a military or law enforcement background, that was for damn sure.

“Where’s Kady?” I asked, looking around.

“Not in here,” Jamison replied, going further into the room, then sticking his head in the attached master bath.

“Kady!” I shouted, running along the second-floor landing to the maid’s room she’d claimed as her own. I pushed the door open with such force it slammed against the wall. A picture fell to the floor, the glass breaking.

Grabbing the closet door, I yanked it open. Too damned dark to see anything, but Kady didn’t come out. Cord turned on the light and I could see the space was fucking tiny and filled with clothes and shit. No Kady. Just fucking suitcases.

Cord was behind me, running a hand over the back of his neck.