She slipped arms into the covering.
“...talking about injuries. Are you bleeding somewhere? Do you have any broken bones? Anything I need to address right now?”
“No.” She fastened buttons. “I’m fine.”
“What about this?” He gingerly touched a bruise on her left cheek.
She recoiled. “It’ll heal.”
Randall flicked a thumb toward the dead man. “Did he do that?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t run into any doorknobs.”
“And I assume you didn’t get that cut on your neck from shaving either.” He faced the corpse. “His death came too soon. I wish I could’ve spent more time with him.” Randall poked his chin at her. “So you’re okay then?”
“I’m okay.”
“Good.” After reclaiming his firearm and taking her hand, “Let’s go, Miss Mahoney,” he escorted her to the front door. “My ride’s,” he turned the knob and pulled, but the barrier remained in place, “down the—”
“Forget it. It has screws all around the perimeter.”
He stood taller. “Well, that sucks.”
Faith recalled her escape attempt from earlier. “Tell me about it.”
Randall faced the way he had come. “How many men are here?”
“Two...that I’ve seen.”
Remembering how he had entered the dwelling, through an open back door, he pointed that way. I don’t want to chance it again. He turned to Faith. “Are there any other entry points that you know of?”
“There’s a garage.”
From somewhere in the house, a man’s voice: “Time to do the broad and get going, Mason. The other guys just rolled up outside.”
Randall whipped his head toward Faith and lowered his voice. “I thought you said there were only two men.”
“Yeah...that I’ve seen.”
Randall put the newcomer’s position near the back half of the house. He envisioned the bolted front door behind him. “We’re trapped.” He drew the woman in his care closer to him. “Which way is this garage of yours?”
She pointed. “That way. It’s just off the kitchen.”
He swung an arm in the same direction. “Lead on.”
Faith scurried away.
He followed. A few strides later, he crouched to snatch her shorts off the floor before catching up to her in a kitchen.
A male voice: “They’re loading everything from the garage into the truck.”
Passing through the kitchen, she reached for the door to the garage.
Randall caught her elbow.
Spinning around before he could pull her back, Faith winced and confronted him. “Awesome.” She made sure to keep her voice down. “Now what?”
He glanced at the space surrounding them.
The kitchen counter had two pans, an empty butcher block, and a roll of paper towels on it. The rest of the room was empty.
He saw a mental image of the construction scene outside. This whole area is still being built. I’ll bet no one’s even, he opened two doors and saw a barren enclosure under the sink, living here.
She eyed her rescuer, then the cramped space, before shaking her head at him. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking...the two of us won’t fit in there.”
“You don’t know that for sure. Sometimes,” he lowered a forearm onto the counter, “you just have to have,” tucked his legs between the drain pipe and the wooden cabinet’s floor, “a little,” and wiggled into the under-counter storage area, “faith.” He looked up at her and grinned. “Faith.”
She rolled her eyes at the man reveling over his pun. “Yeah, like I’ve never heard that one before.”
Lying on his left side, he beckoned her. “Come on. Get in. Quietly.”
She went to hands and knees, trundled into the tiny hiding spot, and ended up in his arms, her flat hands on his chest, her nose an inch away from his.
He shut the doors and peeked through the vertical crack between one of the door’s two hinges. “Perfect. I can still see out.”
“So what’s the plan?” she whispered while a gentle light played over his handsome features. This may be the closest I’ve been to a man without having sex with him.
“We wait them out. And, if someone comes knocking on our door,” gripping his Walther behind her back, he lifted the gun a little higher, “we’ll make him wish he hadn’t.”
She glimpsed the weapon out of the corner of one eye. “You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those, would you...for me?”
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right.” A couple seconds went by. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. It’s just that I...I really do hate relying on someone else to protect me.”
He flicked his eyes her way before going back to gawking at the empty kitchen. “And I suspect if that someone else is a man, it’s doubly hard?” While not able to see her facial expression in the darkness, he did spot her white teeth near the outer limits of his periphery vision.
“My father raised me to be a strong and independent woman.”
Randall hiked a corner of his mouth. Just like your sister. “You know,” he peeped out the crack, “my Pops once told me...putting your trust in another human being is one of the most difficult things for a person to do in life.” A beat. “Then, he went on to tell me that it can also be one of the most rewarding of human experiences.”
Faith frowned. “Who’s Pops?”
“My grandfather. He taught me a lot of things.” Randall nodded. “He was a good man.”
“So he’s passed?”
“He has.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Randall regarded his ‘intimate’ partner. “Miss Mahoney, I was sent to find you and bring you back to your loved ones.”
Faith’s heart thumped stronger at the prospect of seeing her family again.
“So, believe me when I tell you...you can rely on me to protect you. No strings attached.” Following an exchange of cozy glances with her, he went back to spying on the outside world.
She squinted at him, her mind hearing his voice, her eyes taking in his good looks for a third, fourth, and fifth time. This may be the
