take it easy on you, got it.” She picked up his left hand and draped it over her shoulder while placing her right arm around his back.
“I appreciate what you’re doing, but it’s not necessary.”
Gabriella dropped his arm and stepped to the side. “Right.” She didn’t miss the sensation of his arm pressed onto her already sticky, wet clothes. Still, she wondered if he was trying to give her a signal not to get close. Because even macho men who were shot took help when they needed it, right? Of course she wouldn’t know. She hadn’t grown up with a man in her life.
Gabriella took the curved staircase two steps at a time until she reached the top. She stopped abruptly to check on Luke when he bumped into her back. She looked over her shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t think you could keep up with me.”
His face paled and his eyes widened as he tipped backward.
“No!” Her fingers grabbed his dress shirt as she threw her body weight in the opposite direction in hopes he didn’t take her down with him.
He grabbed the banister and regained his balance. “Sorry. I got dizzy.”
“You’ve probably lost more blood than we realized.” Her stomach twisted at the thought. First aid had never been her strong suit. As a teacher she carried the required certifications, but it was a lot easier to perform on a dummy than a real live person.
If Luke passed out or worse, she had no idea what she would do.
* * *
Luke followed Gabriella into a posh master bedroom. The sheets and drawers thrown on the ground proved it’d been ransacked. The room held a king-size bed with a matching armoire, end tables and desk. Even with all the furniture, it still left ample room for the entertainment center and a high-end treadmill. The bedroom alone looked to take up a third of the upstairs floor. If his leg wasn’t throbbing, he’d have whistled.
Gabriella groaned. “No, no, no.” She ran to the nightstand and sorted through the drawers. “He took it. He took my mom’s gun.” She straightened with a leather-bound book in her hands. Her eyes wild, her hair matted, she stared at him. “Luke, I had no idea, but I should’ve known. I’m not thinking straight.”
“It’s hard to think straight when your life is in danger.” He should know. He’d already demonstrated that more than once in the past thirty minutes.
She shook her head. “I’ve gotten us into an even worse situation. We have no weapon to help us get out of here.”
A slam punctuated the end of her sentence. They had company. A holler from below followed by a thump and a bellow of rage tempted Luke to walk back out into the hallway to see what was going on.
Gabriella crossed the room and grabbed his arm. “I told you that marble is slippery when wet.” She gestured with her head. “Get into the closet.”
“The closet?”
“I know you’re in here!” A shot rang out, and Luke jumped back two feet. A hole appeared in the drywall one inch from the doorjamb.
“Now.” Gabriella gave him a shove and they stepped into what he assumed was her mother’s walk-in closet. She grunted as she closed the door and clicked the top dead bolt. Two more dead bolts—one in the middle and one near the ground—also needed to be flipped. Dead bolts in the closet?
“Get the other door, Luke.”
On the opposite side of the closet was an open doorway attached to a lavender room complete with a queen-size bed underneath a floral canopy. Luke worked to close the door. The outside layer looked like normal wood, but the cool feel and heft meant it had to be metal. He engaged the three dead bolts then stood, hands on his hips. His leg progressed from a sore pounding to a sharp stinging.
“It connected to my room,” she explained.
He gritted his teeth. It’d do no good to complain about the pain. “I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t the best hiding place.” He hobbled into the adjoining bathroom. Odd. The only door to the bathroom was inside the closet. The inside walls looked like white metal. “There’s no window in here.” He turned to Gabriella. Great. A madman outside and no means of escape. “We’re trapped.”
A small current of cold air rushed past his face. The air-conditioning had kicked on. Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. “I know. It’s a safe room. I didn’t want to be responsible for you getting shot a second time.”
He’d heard safe rooms were becoming more common, but he’d never been in one so ample—although not counting the bathroom, at only ten foot by ten foot in size it wouldn’t take long to feel claustrophobic. “Is there a phone? Surveillance cameras?”
Her head dropped, and her damp hair fell in ringlets across her shoulders. “No. I already told you. Only cell phones. We used to have surveillance—” she pointed to a small tablet on top of the dresser “—but that was part of the alarm service, and they took back their cameras when I had to cancel.” She turned away from him and placed a hand on the white door. “At least—”
Crack!
Gabriella screamed and stepped back into his arms. Her knees buckled, and Luke strained to hold her up until she regained her balance. He squinted at the pointed bulge in the door. That had been too close for comfort.
Gabriella rubbed the spot underneath her collarbone where it would’ve hit had it gone through. Luke’s stomach churned at the thought. He kept a hand on her back as they stared at the bulge.
“My mom told me she made this room for tornadoes.”
His heart pounded against his chest. The only sounds in the room were his heart and ragged breathing. Three more cracks and three more bulges appeared in the door. He flinched at each one. Gabriella’s back pressed against his chest. He placed his hands on her arms and finally exhaled, not realizing he’d unintentionally held his breath. “Tornadoes are rare in Idaho.”
She lifted her face up, toward him. “I know. I realized it in high school. I thought she was my overprotective mom. I never imagined—” Her voice broke and she stepped away from his support.
Another coughing spell hit him. His lungs still burned from inhaling the lake water after the bullet hit him. He glanced down at the wound. Blood wasn’t gushing, but it still needed to be addressed. He turned his eyes back to the ceiling in hopes there wouldn’t be a return of the dizziness that claimed him the last time he saw the wound.
Gabriella followed his gaze. “I’m glad Mom attached a bathroom. There used to be a first-aid kit somewhere.”
Luke followed her into the spacious bathroom.
She handed him a red canvas bag from inside the bathroom closet. “At least we know the walls will hold for a little bit. Until we figure something out.” She pulled out a thick terry-cloth towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Wait a second.” She darted into the closet and returned with a stack of jeans and a flannel shirt. “My mom bought baggy men’s clothes for when she had to supervise the gravel pits. I don’t know if any of these will fit you but—”
Luke eagerly accepted the clothes. “We can always hope.” He lifted his chin. “A minute ago you were holding a book. What was it?”
“Mom’s diary.” She turned around, looking at the floor. “I’m pretty sure I dropped it the moment we stepped in the closet. There it is.” She raised her fingers to her temples and pressed. “I’ll close this door and give you some privacy. I’m sorry I got you into this whole mess, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad you were here.”
“You couldn’t make me leave your side if you tried.” He meant it, but his words triggered the memory of their previous conversation. He needed to tell her he was behind the media spotlight. He was responsible for this mess, not her.
Would she ever be able to look at