Devlin and Garrick by Cameron Dane (short story to read txt) 📕

her but threw himself onto her back the second she moved, and he took them both to the carpet. Garrick hurled himself onto the man’s back and burrowed his arms under the guy’s armpits, chopping at his hold on Grace.

The man reared and elbowed Garrick in the jaw with near bone-crushing force. He turned on Garrick and threw a punch to the center of Garrick’s chest, knocking the wind right out of him.

Fuck. He’s had special training. Gotta be after me. Garrick kicked the man’s leg out from under him and took him to the ground again. As Garrick gasped for breath, he threw himself at the assailant who had shot to his feet with lightning-fast moves and lunged for Grace again.

Grace grabbed the knife and plunged it into the man’s shoulder--or at least she tried to. She cried out as the blade didn’t sink in deeply--as it should have--and she grabbed her wrist as the knife fell to the floor.

Kevlar vest. Garrick processed that the man had on some sort of protective gear under his fatigues while tackling him from behind and shoving him face first into the wall. The man surged with much the same strength Garrick had possessed when knocking down the door; the guy rammed his head backward and head-butted Garrick’s skull with brain-shaking power and precision.

“Ahh!” Garrick clutched the side of his head as white-hot pain snaked through every part of his body. He lost his knees and dropped to the carpet.

The assailant went for Grace again. Through the dizzying hit Garrick’s head had taken, he managed to lunge and yank one foot out from under the attacker. At the same time, Grace kicked her leg out at the guy in a karate move and jammed him in the stomach hard enough to send him flying out the door and into the hallway.

Still seeing two of everything, Garrick jumped to his feet and raced out into the hallway after the man, unsteady as he chased a blurry figure streaking toward the front of the house.

The attacker yanked the front door open without incident. He must have unlocked it before going after Grace. The man flew through the opening and down the steps, shouting, “You got lucky, bitch.” He pointed as he sprinted across the street and threw himself into a car. “I’m coming back for you!” Wheels spun, creating smoke, as the car, clearly already running, chewed up the pavement, and the guy got away.

Garrick chased the car halfway down the street and managed to get color, model, and the first half of the license plate number, but no more than that before the car turned out of sight.

“You got lucky, bitch.” The words reverberated in Garrick’s head as he jogged back to the house. This guy wasn’t here for me. Still, even as Garrick wondered what the hell this man wanted with Grace, he couldn’t stop shaking as scenarios of how easily that could have been an assassin coming for him hit his psyche.

It could have been for me.

The bastard could have taken out my family in the process.

Right on the front lawn, Garrick doubled over and threw up what was left of his dinner. Bile burned his throat as he coughed and retched up everything in his stomach, while his arms and legs shook like a newborn foal.

I have to get out of here. I can’t do this. It’s not safe. I might as well kill them all myself.

“Here.” Devlin’s deep, familiar voice burrowed into Garrick’s being, and his warm hand rubbed the tension knotting the small of Garrick’s back. “Put these on.” Devlin dangled a pair of shorts under Garrick’s downturned face. “Let’s start with that.”

Garrick took his shorts, and Devlin held him steady with a hand around his upper arm while Garrick struggled into them. Garrick didn’t have to look up at his mate to know that Devlin understood every bit of fear coursing through Garrick right now. Garrick could hear the knowledge in the gentle nature of Devlin’s tone.

He forced himself to look up at those pale, knowing eyes anyway. “It wasn’t a hired killer here for me this time,” Garrick said. “But it could have been. Jesus, Devlin,” Garrick spat the horrid taste out of his mouth, “they all could have been butchered before I even had a chance to step one foot in that house.”

Devlin’s features turned ruddy and hard. “So you’re going to pack up and run.” He snapped his fingers, the sound cracking in the night. “Just like Grace is frantically doing inside right this second.”

Garrick narrowed his gaze on Devlin first and then to the home behind him. “What?”

Devlin nodded, and Garrick ran for the house, taking the steps two at a time and bounding across the porch. He pushed open the half-closed door and found Grace rushing her kids into their bedrooms, telling them to pack a bag and their most special toys.

Grace moved toward her bedroom. Garrick grabbed her arm and drew her into the living room before she got half a dozen feet away. “Where are you going?” he asked, as she tugged against his hold.

“Don’t know yet.” Her dilated pupils nearly drowned out the rim of brown, and through Garrick’s hold on her, he could feel that her jitters matched his own. “Anywhere far away from here.”

Garrick replayed not only the professional moves of the assailant, but also Grace’s battle technique, which had gone toe-to-toe with a bigger foe. “What the hell went down here tonight?”

Grace’s delicate hand shook as she covered her mouth. “That was my ex-husband. He’s obviously out of prison, and now that he knows where I am, I have to leave.”

Running from an abusive ex. Of course. I should have known. She immediately took my fears about someone watching the house seriously; any other time in my life that would have set off my radar in a shot.

Grace stopped pulling against him. She looked up at him and frown lines marred her forehead. “Your eyes are green.”

“Shit.”