The Attack
Rowan—”
“Don’t. Move.”
He stood slowly, gun raised, and stepped into the dark hallway.
And I held my breath.
Seconds stretched into silence. Then—chaos.
Gunfire ripped through the house again. One window shattered behind me, the blast sharp and jarring. I flinched, instinctively covering my head as glass rained down around me. Shouts followed—low, guttural, male. Multiple voices. Not ours.
They were inside.
“Security is down!” one of them barked.
Shit.
I scrambled to my feet, heart slamming against my chest, and bolted for the stairs. The twins. They were still upstairs—reading in their room, oblivious. My legs burned as I climbed two steps at a time.
“Remi, wait!” Rowan’s voice cut through the gunfire, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
I made it to the hallway just as one of the attackers turned the corner, rifle raised, mask in place. He spotted me—
I moved before I could think. My elbow struck the inside of his arm, knocking the rifle upward as he fired. The bullet missed by a hair, cracking into the chandelier above.
He wasn’t expecting a fight.
I kneed him in the stomach, spun, and slammed my foot into his kneecap. He went down hard. Gun clattered to the floor.
I didn’t pause.
I grabbed the weapon, yanked the bolt back like I’d done a hundred times in training I never talked about, and aimed it down the hallway.
“Mommy!” Laura’s scream echoed from their room.
“Stay there!” I yelled, charging toward their door.
Another attacker appeared in the hall—this one younger, faster. He saw the gun in my hands, hesitated.
I didn’t.
I pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed like thunder. He went down. My hands trembled, but I kept moving.
“Mom!” Larry opened the door. “What’s happening?”
“Come here—now!” I grabbed them both, one arm around each child, pulling them close as I led them back toward the stairs. “Eyes down. Don’t look at anything. Just run.”
We moved fast—down the hallway, around the corner—and right into Rowan.
He looked wild, feral, like something primal had taken over. His shirt was stained with blood—not his. His eyes locked on the twins, relief hitting him like a train.
“I’ve got them,” I said, breathless.
Without a word, he lifted Laura into his arms, grabbed Larry’s hand, and turned back toward the back entrance.
More shouting. Another gunshot. Too close.
We sprinted through the kitchen, Rowan shielding them with his body. I kept behind him, eyes scanning, gun raised, just in case someone else—
There was.
The last one burst from the pantry, swinging a knife. I stepped in fast, dodging to the left. He lunged again—sloppy, untrained—and I slammed the butt of the rifle into his temple. He dropped instantly.
It was over in seconds.
And then—the sirens.
Whoever was left must’ve heard them too, because I caught the sight of two masked men fleeing through the front window they’d shattered. Rowan started to chase, but I grabbed his wrist.
“No,” I panted. “We need to stay with the kids.”
His jaw clenched. “We can’t let them get away.”
“They’re gone.”
Footsteps pounded the porch. Security—finally.
I dropped the rifle, my knees buckling as I sank to the floor, the adrenaline draining from my body in seconds. My hands were shaking. I looked down and realized I had someone else’s blood splattered across my arms.
“Remi.” Rowan knelt beside me, one hand still clutching Larry close. “Are you okay? Did you—are you hurt?”
I shook my head, breath hitching. “No. I’m okay. They didn’t touch me.”
His hand cupped my cheek, grounding me, but I couldn’t look at him. Not yet.
Because I knew what I’d just done.
I’d fought like hell. And I had killed someone.
And I’d barely blinked while doing it.
Laura sniffled softly. “Is it over?”
“Yes baby, it is,” Rowan said, pulling her close again.
Then one of the guards called out from the foyer. “Sir—over here.”
We all turned.
He was crouched over something near the broken window.
Rowan stood slowly and walked over.
The item was small, black, glinting.
A security badge.
He picked it up, turned it over, and froze.
“What is it?” I asked.
He walked back slowly, handed it to me without a word.
The name on it was clear.
Lucious Davenport.
Not a hired hand. Not a random attacker.Someone tied directly to the man who had ruined everything more than once.
I stared at the name, my fingers curling around the badge as a fresh wave of nausea climbed up my throat.
“They’re never going to stop, are they?” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
Rowan looked at me, eyes dark, jaw clenched.
And for the first time, he didn’t lie. Didn’t give me false comfort.
He just pulled me close.
Held me tight.
And said, “Not until one of us ends it.”
I clung to him, letting his heartbeat settle me, even though mine was still erratic. The gunfire, the blood, the way I moved like muscle memory—it wasn’t a dream. It had happened.
And Rowan had seen it.
When he pulled back, his brows were furrowed in something between awe and disbelief.
“You fought like—” he paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
I let out a shaky breath, brushing hair from my face. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I gave him a tired, crooked smile. “My ex. Years ago. You met him once. A real bastard. It started with him raising his voice, and ended with him nearly choking me out in my own kitchen.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened. I felt his body stiffen, jaw working.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I said quickly. “Not then. I just… left. But I promised myself I’d never feel that powerless again. So I took classes. Defense, hand-to-hand combat. I got good at it. Quietly. Just in case.”
He exhaled hard, eyes searching mine. “You should’ve told me.”
I gave a weak shrug. “What would you have done? Yelled? Threatened a man who’s long gone? I didn’t want saving. I wanted strength. Beside you already thought him his lesson.”
His hand came to rest gently on my cheek. “You’ve always had that. Strength.”
I blinked, my throat tightening. “Tell that to the girl who used to flinch at loud noises.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
Behind us, Laura whimpered. Larry was curled on the couch, knees tucked under his chin, trying hard not to cry but losing the battle.
I knelt beside them. “Hey… hey, it’s okay now.”
“It was so loud,” Laura whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “I thought they were going to hurt you.”
I wrapped my arms around both of them. “They didn’t. And they won’t. I promise you, you’re safe.”
Larry sniffed. “But they came in. They broke the glass.”
“I know,” I said softly, smoothing down his hair. “But we’re here. We’re together. And no matter what, I will protect you. Both of you.”
Rowan crouched beside me, wrapping one strong arm around all three of us. “They’re not getting past us again.”
The kids clung to us, and for a few minutes, we didn’t move. Just breathed. Just existed in the space of survival.
Then my phone rang.
Jo.
I glanced at Rowan, who gave a nod, then answered.
“Jo?”
Her voice was rushed, breathless. “I followed one of them.”
“What?”
“One of the guys who ran. I didn’t mean to. I just… something told me to follow. He ditched his jacket in a dumpster and I found it. Inside—Remi, I found a map.”
“A map?”
“Your res
earch lab is circled in red. Underlined. Marked with today’s date.”
The phone slipped a little in my hand.
“They’re coming for your work next,” Jo said. “Whatever you’re working on… they want it.”
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