He whipped his arm to the side and fired repeatedly, not caring where it hit as long as it slowed her down, then felt rather than heard the gun clicking on empty. He couldn’t hear anything right now. Between the woman’s rifle fire, his own gunfire, and the grenade, his ears were seriously ringing. Shit. He half hobbled, half ran forward, grateful that Novak lived in a no-fence neighborhood.

Damn HOAs were good for something, after all.

His knees nearly buckled when another hot shard of pain pierced his leg—the same damn leg. He’d been hit again.

Fucking Feds.

Cade didn’t slow down as he swung the rifle from his back, one-handed, and pulled the trigger, spraying bullets behind him. With his other hand, he found the second grenade and pulled the pin, then tossed it over his shoulder. A few seconds later, the ground shook and dirt rained down around him, leaving him in a smoky haze.

And then he saw his escape.

A woman had opened the door at the back of her house and was peering out. Cade made a run for the door and shoved his way inside before she could draw the breath to scream.

He pointed the rifle at her. “Don’t scream and I won’t kill you.”

Cincinnati, Ohio
Monday, March 18, 3:33 a.m.

Michael gasped when the second explosion rocked the house. He’d felt them, which meant they had to be close. Hawkeye crowded his leg, the poor dog trembling. The dog didn’t leave him, nor did he bark. But he was growling. Michael had his hand on Hawkeye’s neck and could feel the sound vibrating in his throat.

The other dogs were barking, though. They stood, their attention focused on the stairs, bodies jerking with every bark.

They were in the basement of Dani’s house, he and Faith sitting on the sofa while Joshua lay on the floor, curled up in a sleeping bag. “Camping,” Faith had called it. Joshua had already been asleep by the time Michael had come down the stairs with Deacon Novak.

Joshua wasn’t asleep anymore. If the explosions hadn’t woken him, the dogs’ barking did. But Joshua didn’t look scared. Mostly confused.

Michael was grateful that Faith had kept Joshua from being afraid. But those explosions changed everything. He saw her fear before she quickly hid it away, because Joshua was sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“What was that? Why are the dogs barking?” Joshua asked, signing clumsily with his small hands, like he always did when he first woke up. Then his eyes suddenly filled with excitement. “Fireworks? Can we go see?”

No, not fireworks, Michael thought dully. The explosions felt like bombs. Because of me. Because some asshole is trying to get to me. To kill me.