Chapter Seven

Something woke Grant from a light sleep. He kept still, letting his senses sharpen, focus. He’d pulled a chair up next to Melody’s bed to keep an eye on her. It wasn’t comfortable and even now, the muscles in his neck were protesting loudly. Still, he’d slept in much worse places. Many times.

Soundlessly, he pushed to his feet, palmed his gun and whispered out the door. The hall was dark and he waited for his eyes to adjust before he crept down the stairs. He felt the breeze before he spotted the open door. Pulling out his cell, he whipped off a text to Mason Rossi calling for backup and then he began a search of the house, even though his instincts told him that whoever had broken in was long gone.

He pulled out his SureFire P2X Fury tactical flashlight from one of the pockets in his cargo pants and flashed it along the floor, looking for footprints on the laminate flooring. He certainly didn’t want to turn on any lights in case the perp was still around or watching through the windows. He trained the beam from right to left looking for any evidence the perp might have left behind. His mouth tightened when the beam landed on a piece of paper tacked to the wall with a steak knife. He left it to clear the rest of the house.

He’d explored her house last night to familiarize himself with the layout and all the entries or exits. Besides the front door, there was an entry into the kitchen from the garage and a sliding glass door that led to a small deck in the back. Even though the lock on that door was also crap, she’d propped a sturdy board inside the track, making it virtually impossible for anyone to break in short of shattering the glass.

One thing he’d noticed on his recon mission: Melody was a bit of a slob. Things were piled in stacks haphazardly. Not in a hoarder way, but in an absentminded genius sort of way. Dirty clothes had been tossed at a basket in the laundry room, some making it inside, others hanging off the side or resting on the floor. Mail was stacked on the counter in her kitchen, along with assorted coupons and delivery flyers. Several of the drawers were so crammed with junk, he could barely pry them open. There were no dirty dishes but a peek inside the dishwasher told him that she needed to do a load soon or she’d be using plastic utensils.

The one room that was meticulously clean was her lab. It’d been sterile to the point of obsession. She had purifiers cleansing the air and the surfaces were so shiny, he could see his reflection. All the glass sparkled and there wasn’t so much as a fingerprint on any of the equipment.

The downstairs was clear, so he headed upstairs to do a cursory check, just to be safe. He saved Melody’s room for last, easing the door open to peer inside. She was still out, still in the stained dress he’d been afraid to remove. During one of his wake-up attempts, he’d asked her if she wanted him to help her change into something more comfortable. He’d meant it in the most innocent way possible. She’d given him a narrow-eyed glare and then promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. He figured if it bothered her, she’d want to change, otherwise, he’d just leave her be to rest.

He eased her door closed and jogged down the stairs to study the note. Plain white paper available at any office supply store. The note was computer-generated, just like the one found inside her store. He snapped off a few pictures with his phone. He didn’t want to disturb it until the authorities had a chance to document it. COBRA Securities had a great relationship with the local police, especially since his older brother had once been one of them. He called and requested a unit to the scene. He told the dispatcher that lights and sirens weren’t necessary. The perp was long gone.

He needed to get Melody out of the house so she didn’t have to deal with more questions tonight. She wasn’t up to it and he wanted her to get the rest her body needed to recover. His cell buzzed a text. Mason had arrived.

He flipped on the lights and stood by the door as Mason and the Addison brothers, Noah and Ethan, filed out of the SUV with their guns at the ready. He couldn’t ask for better back-up than two former fellow SEALs and one Delta Force bad-ass.

“We’ll check the back yard.” Ethan and Noah split up to round the house.

“Everything clear?” Mason asked, sprinting up the steps.

“Yeah, except for this.” He led Mason to the note.

“Be afraid,” Mason read. “Creepy.”

“Yeah.”

Noah and Ethan returned. “All clear,” Noah reported.

Ethan crouched down to study the lock with his SureFire. “There are no scratch marks, either on or around the lock or the door frame.”

“You think someone had a key?” Mason asked.

Ethan stood. “Possibly, but this lock’s shit.” He gave it the same look of disgust Grant had earlier. “Any hack could pick it and not leave marks.”

Ethan’s remarks echoed Grant’s assessment. “I plan on beefing up her security, adding an alarm.”

“She needs it,” Ethan agreed.

“Until it’s all set up, she can’t stay here,” Noah said.

“I’ll go wake her up and take her to my place. Cops are on their way. I don’t want her to have to answer a bunch of questions tonight.”

Mason slapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of the boys in blue.”

#

Melody was having the most wonderful dream of being carried in Grant Colton’s strong arms. His sexy spicy scent filled her nose and she inhaled, intoxicated. His arms were like solid bands around her and she burrowed closer to the heat of his body. In her dream she hummed in appreciation.

“Mel, wake up.”

She blinked her eyes open. It took a minute for her to realize where she was. In Grant Colton’s arms. She gasped and struggled but he clamped his arms tighter around her.

“Mel, stay still. I’ve got you.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“Wait—what?”

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Why? And who’s we?”

“A few of my coworkers are downstairs.”

“Grant, put me down right now!” She had no idea what was going on, but she didn’t want to face his coworkers looking like a crash victim. Even though she was one.

Good to know he obeyed instructions as he placed her on the floor feet first. She was a bit discombobulated from being woken from a deep slumber and she teetered before his arms shot out to steady her. “What’s going on, Grant? Why do we have to leave?”

“Someone broke into your house tonight.”

She stumbled backwards and if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, would’ve fallen to the floor. “Who…when…” She couldn’t even form coherent sentences.

“It was about half an hour ago and we don’t know who. The perp…uh, perpetrator is long gone.”

His hands still gripped her arms, keeping her upright. Someone had broken into her home? What would she have done if Grant hadn’t been here? Even if she hadn’t been injured, she was woefully unprepared to face an intruder. She was secure enough to admit her weaknesses, and defending herself was a major one. She knew Taylor and most of the other women were proficient at self-defense. She needed to look into taking some classes.

“You look about two seconds away from passing out. I’m going to pick you up again.”

She waved him off and stepped out of his hold. “I’m okay. I just, I need to pack.” She spun around…too fast. Strong hands gripped her again. She nodded that she was okay and he let her go. She made her way to her closet and took out a bag and began filling it with clothes, not even paying attention to what she was packing. She moved to her dresser and opened the drawer, suddenly embarrassed that Grant might see her underwear. She glanced over her shoulder. “Uh, could you turn around.”

He raised an eyebrow, glanced down at the open drawer, which she tried to shield with her body and turned around. Once she was sure he wasn’t going to peek, she thrust her hand inside and pulled out a wad of cotton and lace, hastily stuffing them into her bag.

“I just need to get a few things from the bathroom.”

“I’ll get your bag.” He reached for it and paused. “Uh, here.” He plucked something off her hip and handed it to her. Her face flamed. Of course it couldn’t be a sexy pair of La Perla. It had to be her wash-day white cotton granny panties. That’s when she noticed she was still in her ruined dress. It was ripped and stained and now completely wrinkled. She vaguely remembered Grant saying something about changing out of it, but she’d been too tired to care. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt and yoga pants.

After closing herself in the bathroom, she ripped off the dress and tossed it on the floor before she flipped on the lights and screamed.