the table hard, coffee sloshing onto the dark wood. She swiped the spot with her fingertips. “You were targeted? Because of your brother?”
“Looks like.”
“Why? What did the punk do to—”
“Kyle’s dead, Case. I get it—you never trusted him. But he was still my brother.”
“Who ditched you for years and only showed his face because he needed a place to crash.” The hardness in Casey’s expression faded, and she sat back, pulling at the hem of her purple Carolina Beach sweatshirt. “I’m sorry. He’s gone, and I should watch my mouth.”
“He was trying.” Kristin hated the weakness in her voice. Her brother had been the only family she’d had left. When they were small, he’d always played protector, even though he was a year younger. They’d been close, each other’s best friend and closest companion. He’d defended Kristin at every chance, though he never witnessed their father’s brutality. Kristin had protected him from the truth as much as possible, and Kyle had idolized the man. He’d run away shortly after their parents’ deaths, refusing to believe their father had done something so heinous. While Kristin had spent the remainder of her high school years with their grandmother, taking on her mother’s maiden name after refusing to be known by her father’s anymore, Kyle had wandered, staying with distant relatives and friends, generally getting into trouble before deciding to make the army his life. Those last few months before he deployed, when he’d been stationed at Bragg, had reunited the siblings, however briefly.
While Kyle was still a bit of a loose cannon, he’d matured. Other than being basically silent about anything personal, he’d seemed normal...for this new, more distant version of Kyle. He’d even helped her finish the basement before he deployed, using some of the skills he’d learned earning money in high school to put in drywall and paint. Other than his utter failure at communicating, those few weeks had been good.
When he’d been killed, he’d left Kristin his life insurance and the ’68 Camaro he’d been restoring in her detached garage. While she’d often sat in the front seat of the car and toyed with the idea of turning the key, she hadn’t had the heart to drive it. It was his baby, the one thing he’d been enthusiastic about.
“Listen, Kris...”
Kristin shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I admit he could be—” A crash from the backyard brought her to her feet, and she was halfway to the door before she realized she was plunging headfirst into danger...like her mother had on the night she died.
With Casey close behind, Kristin flipped on the floodlights and shoved through the door onto the low deck, the evening chill a stark contrast to the warmth inside.
Two men were locked in battle at the corner of the house, one besting the other.
A very familiar one besting the other. This couldn’t be happening. None of this could be happening. Heart hammering, Kristin jumped the steps into the yard. “What is going on here?”
The masked man Lucas had pinned by the chest to the privacy fence took advantage of the momentary distraction. Twisting sideways and throwing his elbow up, he caught Lucas in the chin, relaxing the hold enough to duck and run for the front yard.
Casey bolted into the house. “I’m on it.”
“Casey, don’t.” Too late. She’d already disappeared. That drive to be helpful was going to be her downfall someday.
As Kristin gathered herself and joined the pursuit, Lucas ran for the gate, pounding his palm against the rough wood as tires screeched on a side street two houses away. When he turned toward Kristin, the shadows in the side yard cast a fierce mask over his countenance, deepening his eyes and highlighting the strong set of his jaw.
The sight of him almost drove Kristin back, but the fear zinging through her had nothing to do with the man and everything to do with her reaction. Lucas Murphy was gradually inching a hold around her heart.
And he’d been knee-deep in two questionable situations on the same day. With her emotions tangled and the other threat gone, everything focused on Lucas, Kristin’s brain spinning too fast to acknowledge the enormity of what was truly happening.
Kristin squared her shoulders, half to take authority and half to warn her galloping heartbeat that now was not the time. Lucas couldn’t continue to jump in to save her. She didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t he grasp she could handle this? “What are you doing here?”
He ought to look like a sheepish little boy caught stealing from his grandmother’s cookie jar. Instead, he tipped his chin in defiance and strode closer with an air of belonging, his shoulders squared like he was ready to do battle all over again, this time with her. “I’m making short work of the guy who tried to break into your house.”
She wasn’t sure what spiked her blood pressure more—someone trying to violate her life for the third time in one day, or Lucas playing witness and would-be protector. They were supposed to be casual acquaintances, borderline friends, not some damsel in distress and her knight in shining armor. “I can take care of myself. Casey and I were both here, and I’m—”
“Not being very vigilant.”
Her body stiffened so fast it brought on an instant tension headache. The fear and anger at the people trying to infiltrate her life focused like a laser on the closest target in range. “I’m starting to wonder if you are absolutely nothing short of bad news.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means my life was perfectly, absolutely sane until you showed up in it. We’ve been training together for two months, and before then, no one ever tried to attack me or break into my house. You want to talk about threats? You know my routine almost better than I do. You know the trails I run on the days you and I don’t run together. So tell me, Lucas...this morning? Right now? Right place, right time? Or is this some half-cocked effort to—”
His eyes widened, and if it were possible, they’d have shot fire. “You think I have something to do with this?”
“If the shoe fits.”
Casey jogged out the door onto the deck, deflecting some of the tension. “Lost the guy. Got a partial plate.” She planted her hands on her hips, watching the tennis match between Kristin and Lucas. “Want me to call the—”
“No.” Kristin turned away from the man who somehow managed to nudge guilt around the edges of her emotions. They might not be best buds, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the kind of creep she was implying he was. Sure, common sense said she ought to suspect him, but her mind knew better.
It would be impossible to face him with her accusation hanging in the air. She took two steps onto the deck toward Casey. “No cops. They won’t do anything. They can’t.” She kept right on talking, trying to stop the argument she knew Casey was putting together. “My house. My rules. No cops.” She couldn’t get a restraining order against a man whose name she didn’t even know, and it hadn’t helped her mother to have one anyway. Nor could she expect an officer to sit outside her house in case somebody tried to break in again. She was trained. She was strong. She was fearless. It was a trifecta she trusted.
“You’re being foolish, Kris.” Lucas’s voice came from behind her, closer this time.
Her skin chilled at the nickname in his deep voice, too much like the way her father used to say it. “It’s Kristin.” She turned to offer a half apology, to tell him he might not be a stalker but he definitely wasn’t her hero. The words never formed.
He’d edged closer, a few feet away at the bottom of the steps, fully illuminated by the floodlights. Blood ran from the corner of his right eye, and a red spot marred his chin where a bruise would likely form tomorrow. He’d put himself in the line of fire...for