then he heard the footsteps, the stairs creaking beneath the weight of the person stealthily climbing up to Tanya’s apartment. Maybe the shooter hadn’t sped off in the car with the squealing tires. Maybe he had come upstairs to make sure he’d killed his intended victim.
Cooper drew his weapon from the holster on his belt. He pointed the barrel at the door as he scrambled to his feet and helped up Tanya. He shoved her toward the only other room in the studio apartment. The bathroom.
“Get in the tub,” he ordered her in an urgent whisper. Where he’d been, grenades were routinely tossed in houses. Or machine-gun fire that cut through walls like scissors through paper. “And stay down.”
He didn’t know if she did as he told her because she closed that door. And another opened, slowly, the old hinges creaking in protest. His finger twitched on the trigger as he prepared to pull it, especially as the first thing that entered the apartment was the barrel of a gun.
He waited to get a target before he took his shot. But just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the intruder stepped from the shadows and revealed himself.
“Damn it, Logan!” he cursed his brother. “I almost shot you!”
Logan holstered his gun and gestured toward the broken window. “Looks like you got a little trigger-happy already.”
Cooper begrudgingly admitted, “I didn’t fire my weapon.” Then he pointed toward the holes in the drywall ceiling. “The shooter was down on the street.”
Which had probably saved Tanya’s life and his, because the trajectory of the bullets had sent them tunneling into the ceiling instead of into their bodies.
Sirens blared and blue and red lights flashed, refracting off all the broken glass. “And now the police are down there,” Logan pointed out with a slight sigh of relief.
Either the landlord or a neighbor must have called them. Cooper hadn’t had the chance to dial yet. He’d been too distracted. Tanya had distracted him.
“Why are you here?” he asked his older brother, who was also now his boss. “You checking up on me?” He couldn’t blame him if he was. His first assignment with Payne Protection and he was already blowing it. First, he’d lost Stephen, and he’d nearly lost Tanya more than once.
“You said you were going to get some information for me,” Logan reminded him. “Tanya’s list of difficult cases and exes.”
“What? Were you waiting in the car for it?” Cooper asked—almost hopefully. Because if his brother had been just outside, he would have seen something.
Logan shook his head. “No. I went back to the church to check on Mom and she ordered me back here.”
“She ordered you?” Cooper teased. “I thought you were the boss.”
Logan chuckled. “Doesn’t matter who’s listed as CEO, Mom will always be the boss.”
“She sent you back for the list?” Maybe their mother was running Payne Protection, too.
“She sent me back for Tanya.”
More footsteps sounded on the staircase. “That’s probably the police.”
“Once you two give your report, I need to take Tanya with me,” Logan said.
“So Mom doesn’t trust me to protect her?” He flinched at the pang of regret. She had always had more faith in her oldest son than her youngest.
Logan chuckled again. “No. It’s all about tradition or superstition...”
“What is?” Cooper asked as his head began to pound with confusion and exhaustion. He’d endured tours of duty that had been less dangerous and stressful than this night. “What are you talking about?”
“Mom doesn’t want you to spend the night before your wedding with your bride.”
* * *
USUALLY TANYA SANK into her claw-foot tub with a sigh of relief as the hot water eased the tension from her body. Her tub would never again relieve her stress because she had never been as scared as she was crouched down beneath the rim.
Someone was obviously determined that Tanya wouldn’t live to see her wedding day. With Cooper agreeing to take Stephen’s place as her groom, the wedding could take place as scheduled—the next day. So Tanya would have to die tonight.
Would Cooper die with her? Had he already? She’d heard no shots.
But then the bathroom door opened to men with guns. But they were uniformed police officers. Cooper hadn’t come for her. She had heard no shots—only the rumble of male voices. Had he been hurt worse than he’d claimed? Had he really been bleeding from just a scratch?
The heat flushed her face; she was embarrassed that strangers had found her hiding in her bathtub. At least she was fully clothed, though.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” a young officer asked as he helped her step over the porcelain rim.
Her legs trembled slightly, in reaction from all she’d endured that day and in exhaustion. “I’m fine,” she said. “Is Mr. Payne all right?”
“Which Mr. Payne?” he asked.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she found the brothers talking to another officer.
“This is the third report we’ve had to file for you guys tonight,” the older policeman said with a grunt of disgust. “What on earth is going on?”
“We wish we knew,” Logan replied.
“You’ve got a missing groom and someone trying to kill the bride,” the police officer replied as if the head of Payne Protection had asked him the question. “And my wife thinks my daughter’s wedding was a disaster...”
Tanya wasn’t going to have a wedding. She opened her mouth to call it off, but then she remembered Stephen and that blood in the groom’s quarters. His blood...
What if he was being held for ransom? And she couldn’t meet that ransom?
Those thoughts kept running through her head—even as she answered that officer’s questions:
No, she hadn’t seen anything. She hadn’t gotten close enough to the window to look out before the glass shattered. No, she had no idea who might have been behind this attempt or the other one on her life.
She lifted her gaze and caught Cooper staring at her, as if he doubted her. His eyes were narrowed, speculative. Did he have some idea who’d taken Stephen? Who had just tried to kill her?
She waited for him to share his suspicions with the police. But he said nothing to add to the report before they left. He didn’t even say anything when his brother told her to pack a bag because he was taking her someplace safe.
“But what if someone tries to contact me about Stephen?” she asked.
“Then you’d better be alive to take the call,” Logan said. “The purse
