She grabbed the bat from under the bed. Hovering over the baby’s crib, she considered her options.
Stay and hide. Pray the baby doesn’t cry.
Make a run for it out the patio door.
The safety of the baby was her first priority. And if she stayed in the house with an intruder, the baby would be at risk. But what if someone had waited outside?
She breathed a prayer, one she’d said since childhood. Please God, go before us and behind us. Guard us and protect us.
Kelsey heard a door open down the hall. There really was someone in her house. Nausea burned in her stomach. She had to make a decision.
Coming closer. Oh, dear God, help.
Janie’s new medicine was in the diaper bag. She grabbed it off the floor and threw it over her shoulder. She had to leave now, if she was going to. Making the decision, she put the bat down and lifted Janie from the crib. Don’t wake up, don’t wake up.
She crept to the glass doors, her legs weak, the baby’s weight heavy in her shaking arms. Her breath was coming in quick gasps. She had to calm down and think.
From the vantage point in here, the patio looked clear. If she went straight out the back without being seen, she could cut through the neighbor’s yard and be at Ethan’s boat in less than five minutes. She had to get out without being noticed. The night was dark, no moon to speak of. If she didn’t make noise, if the baby was quiet. If the intruders were busy in the house.
So many ifs. She had to take the chance, though. Janie’s safety, her safety, depended on it.
Now or never. Her heart pounding loud enough to wake the baby on its own, she flipped the lock, slid the glass doors open and stepped out, silent in her bare feet.
Don’t wake up, don’t wake up.
She ran.
The slate pavers on her patio cut into her feet, but she didn’t slow down or cry out. She had to get through the trees to the street behind her house. Holding Janie close to her chest, she thumbed the two on her phone, where she’d programmed Ethan’s number. As it rang, she heard a shout from behind her. From her house. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Do not follow me.”
Janie lifted her head. “It’s okay, sweetie, go back to sleep.”
“Ethan Clark.”
Relief flooded her at the sound of his voice, but he was still so far away. “Ethan, someone—in my—house. I ran. I’m not sure—I think—they followed.”
“What? Where are you?”
She had to stop for a second. She had to breathe. Flattening herself against the fence in the neighbor’s yard, she glanced back at her house. A light flashed in the window. A flashlight?
The door slammed open and she heard more shouting.
She whispered urgently into the phone. “They’re coming!” She ran. The marina was about four blocks from here, but she was on the street now. She could run faster. She hitched the baby up in her arms. Janie whimpered but didn’t cry.
Her pursuers crashed through the bushes in her neighbor’s yard half a block away.
She tried to glance back to see where they were, stumbled and nearly went to her knees. Her cell phone skidded to the curb. She left it.
One wish. One prayer. Safety.
Something whizzed past her ear and she heard a metallic thud in the mailbox closest to her. Was that … oh, no, it was. They were shooting at her.
Help.
It was as close to a prayer as she could get, especially when she had a few choice words she’d like to say to the people shooting at a baby.
A shout came from in front of her. “Kelsey, run for the boat!”
She didn’t hesitate. Here was help.
Ethan didn’t hear a gunshot, but he saw the muzzle flash and heard the metallic thud as the round hit a mailbox feet from where Kelsey ran with the baby. Silenced weapon, which meant professional.
That Kelsey had been able to escape at all was pure miracle.
From somewhere he pulled calm, clear thinking. He put a bullet in the ground near where he’d seen muzzle flash. Another into the bushes. He heard a muffled cry.
All he needed was to keep the gunmen busy long enough to give Kelsey time to get safely on the boat.
A baby’s wail lifted on the air.
The calm disappeared. Someone had sent killers after an innocent woman and child, and not for the first time. Anger spilled into rage. He fired another shot toward the bushes.
“Ethan, we’re on board.” Kelsey’s voice came to him from the boat as a silenced shot hit the pole next to him, showering splinters of wood.
The weapon the hitmen were using was made for close-quarters hits, not the distance shots they were taking, but the impact of the bullets was too close for comfort.
He ran for the boat.
He had it idling already, but the lines were still attached to the pier. He turned and fired behind him at the bushes again, where at least one of the gunmen was hiding.
Ethan threw the bowline into the boat, and as he ran for the stern, he saw Kelsey pulling in the stern line. “Good girl.”
He jumped on board as she cleared the line and followed, ducking as another shot slammed into the tower. “Baby?”
“Safe below.”
“Get down there with her. You need to be under cover.” Ethan climbed the tower to the bridge and pushed the throttle slowly forward, easing out of the slip. As he cleared the pilings, a round hit the GPS, blowing it to smithereens.
He took a deep breath.
In the harbor area, he was the law. And the law said no-wake. He consoled himself with the thought, as he slammed the throttle forward, that not even he would write a ticket for someone speeding away from a professional hitman.
The lights of the marina faded quickly into the distance. He wouldn’t take a bet that the hitmen would do the same. If they were hired to do a job, they wouldn’t quit until it was done. He was going to need help keeping Kelsey and Janie safe.
As they traveled deeper into the bay, the night settled heavy around them. Safe—for now.
He slowed the boat to a stop and sat, letting his heart rate settle, letting his thoughts settle. The night sounds of the bay were as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. The song of the frogs in the estuary, the soft slap of the water against the side of the boat, the deep growl of a gator somewhere off in the distance.
He flicked a piece of glass off the bridge—what remained of his GPS. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need it to know where he was in this body of water. He took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours.
“All clear?” Kelsey’s soft voice was laced with exhaustion.
Ethan dropped down the ladder to the deck below. “For now.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on, resting her head on his chest, her long hair falling out of its clasp to slide against his skin. The smell of sweet herbs drifted up from the strands. “I was so scared.”
He held on to her, just held on. It had been so long since he’d been held by another person. Since he’d held someone. He’d forgotten what it was like.
Ethan patted her back, much the way he would Janie’s. And found a creeping sense of peace that he didn’t expect. He closed his eyes, letting