Page 82 of Love in Overdrive

The click of the gun as he cocked the hammer silenced the singing in her head. The cold metal pressed to her temple, and she froze.

“Enough, bitch!”

The sound of a car door pulled her attention. Ray’s too.

Cade? Her heart soared, then just as fast plummeted. The moment he walked in the door, Ray would shoot.

The gun fell away from her. One inch. Two.

Now! She groped on the counter for the first thing she could grab. She found the counter top grill and swung for the fences.

Cade took the speed limit signs as suggestions, and drove like a NASCAR driver to get to her. At the curb, he checked his time. Eight minutes and fourteen seconds, not bad, but it still felt like forever.

He jumped out of his car and raced to her front door.

A shot rang out, and his heart stopped.

“Laney?” He’d be running into an active shooter situation, but he didn’t care. Laney was in there.

No response came. He cringed.

Years of hostile missions taught him silence was bad. Cade steeled himself for whatever was behind the door.

His training kicked in, and he reached for his gun but came up empty. Fuck. His gut instinct urged him to rush in, but experience held him back. He inched the door open and listened. Nothing. The living room was in shambles, but no blood or body. And no Laney.

Cade’s pulse kicked up, and he eased into the room. He picked up the bat she kept by the door. This was bad. Really bad.

Bat held high, he peeked around the doorway and his heart stopped.

Laney stood in her torn dress with her lip bleeding, a tabletop grill in her hand.

The asshole who hijacked them from the bank lay on the floor, out cold. Cade picked up the gun and shoved it in his waistband, then checked the guy’s pulse. The scumbag was breathing.

Cade searched the guy’s pockets for more weapons and found plastic restraints. A wave of nausea rolled through his gut.

He secured Ray’s hands and gave the tie an extra tug, just for good measure.

“You came.” Her voice cracked. He could see the trembling in her limbs. The grill smashed to the floor.

“Baby, I’m here.” He stood and pulled her into his arms.

She looked up at him. A sheen of tears covered those baby blues.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He cooed and soothed.

Her head shook, and fat tears dropped onto his shirt, one after the other.

“He shot my fridge.” She hiccupped. “I don’t know if my insurance will cover that.”

“Better it than you.” He ran a hand over her hair. She was in shock, focusing on little things. Cade had seen it before.

“Or you.” She tightened her arms around him like a boa constrictor.

Once she was in his arms, the floodgates opened. Tears streaked down her face. Cade let her cry for as long as she needed, while softly consoling and rubbing her back. “It’s okay now. I got you.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He continued to murmur assurances to her. Cade wasn’t sure if any of it mattered or if holding her was enough.

“I think we should call the police.” The scumbag wasn’t moving, and Cade didn’t care if he received medical attention, but he figured he’d better call the police soon, before he finished off the asshole on the floor. He really wanted to shoot the guy for what he had done to Laney. But she had handled it, and the guy wasn’t worth more jail time.