Brawn - Laurann Dohner [16]
“Okay.”
His hands released her and he backed into his room. She stood there gripping the gun, trying to pull herself together. She wiped at tears, calmed enough to realize she was still a little drunk and Brawn was right. Calling the police was paramount. Brawn’s soft voice soothed her frayed nerves as he approached her. His dark shape halted inches from her.
“Send the police and help,” he ordered then the faint light of his cell phone died as he closed it.
“I contacted my people and they will have help to us soon.”
“Give me your phone. We need to dial 9-1-1.”
“They are doing it now. They are sending us help.”
“We don’t need help. You need to give me the phone. The police need to get to Tina’s house. Mel is there and she might still be alive. Give me the cell phone. He can’t get away with this. They need to catch him and I’m still a little drunk. I want to go over there to blow the bastard to hell the way he did Tina but I’d probably go to prison for killing him while inebriated. I can’t believe this is happ—”
“Be quiet,” Brawn suddenly hissed softly.
“I know I—”
A hand clamped over her mouth and he spun her around, just yanking her body tightly against his. One of his arms looped around her waist and his breath fanned her ear. His long hair tickled her arm.
“Someone is downstairs,” he whispered.
Terror slammed into her…but it might be her father. Maybe he’d heard Boomer bark or the sound of the gun going off. Boomer never barked at night and while the gunshot had sounded faint, unlike anything she’d ever heard, her dad was an expert with weapons. He’d know how all of them sounded when fired and would have identified it instantly.
He’d check on her first and come armed, since he slept with weapons in his nightstand drawer. Hell, he’d put the gun in Becca’s in case anyone ever broke in the house. It was always loaded, the safety off, ready to fire. She wanted to tell Brawn who it could be but his hand over her mouth prevented that.
Becca jumped when a noise came from below, a weird one that she’d never heard before and she had no idea what would cause it. It was kind of a soft motor sound and then there was a squishy sound, not a good one. Her father would have pounded up the stairs, searching for her. He would be worried sick and come after her like a charging bull to protect her.
Her heart hammered harder when it sank it that it wasn’t her father down there making the noises. Brawn’s hand over her mouth tightened and so did his arm around her waist. Her toes left the floor as he hoisted her higher up his tall body, backing them both inside his room.
“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed.
Becca kept her lips tightly sealed when the hand released her mouth. He used it to very quietly close the bedroom door and twisted the lock. He moved then, spun fast enough to make her dizzy and lifted her even higher as her legs brushed the side of his bed when he maneuvered them into the small bathroom.
“I smell four males inside your house.” He kept his voice low so that only she would hear him. “I smell blood too but I think it’s from an animal. I want you to sit on the floor in the corner and be very quiet. Do not make a sound. Do you understand me? Nod if you do. Do not speak or shoot me by accident.” He paused, one hand wrapped around hers and he tore the gun from her fingers. “I’ll keep this. You are still inebriated.”
She nodded, not sure how he knew that but couldn’t protest.
He eased her down his body and metal clinked when he set the gun down. Both his hands clutched at her, twisted her to face him, before he let go to grip the top of her head. He gently pushed, urging her to get down.
Her hands brushed hot, naked chest when she used his body to steady her trembling one. Adrenaline and the alcohol still in her system made her movements unsteady. She lowered, her hands sliding on