But they were Daniel’s blood. Which meant they were mine to protect.
I broke cover, sprinting dead across the open expanse of the terrace. “HEY!” I roared, making myself the biggest target possible.
The gunman snapped his aim toward me and squeezed the trigger. Stone chips exploded near my feet as his rounds tracked me. I dove headfirst, sliding behind the massive, multi-tiered wedding cake. The cake exploded under a hail of bullets, showering me in vanilla frosting, spun sugar, and plaster.
“CATHERINE! GET UP AND RUN!” I screamed.
She couldn’t move. Her eyes were glazed over in absolute shock. The gunman dropped his empty magazine, slamming a fresh one home. He stepped around the fountain, closing the distance to the women, his gun leveling at Catherine’s head.
I didn’t have a clear shot. I had to close the gap.
I scrambled from the ruins of the cake, abandoning my rifle, drawing a combat knife I had liberated from the first guard. I lunged from the shadows just as the gunman raised his weapon.
I slammed into him from the side, driving my shoulder into his ribs. As he stumbled, I wrapped my arm around his neck, applying a textbook rear naked choke, simultaneously driving the pommel of the knife into his temple. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, dead weight against the stone.
Silence descended on the terrace, save for the distant wail of approaching sirens and the muffled sobs of the guests who had made it inside.
I stood up, breathing heavily, wiping frosting and a smear of the attacker’s blood from my cheek. I looked down at Catherine.
She stared up at me. Her immaculate hair was a bird’s nest. Her designer dress was ruined. But the look in her eyes had fundamentally changed. The arrogance was gone, replaced by an earth-shattering realization.
“You… you saved us,” Catherine whispered, her voice trembling.
I reached down, extending a calloused, grease-stained hand toward her. “Can you walk, Catherine?”
She took my hand, letting me pull her to her feet. Amanda threw herself at me, burying her face into my torn shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. The girl who had called me a gold digger was now clinging to me like a lifeline.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda wailed into my skin. “I’m so, so sorry for everything I said.”
“Keep your head down and get inside,” I commanded softly. “We’re not clear yet.”
Jake jogged over, securing the downed men with plastic zip-ties he had pulled from their own tactical vests. “Terrace is clear. I got the one inside. He tried to bail through the kitchen window.”
Daniel burst through the shattered patio doors, ignoring my orders to stay hidden. He ran to me, his hands hovering over my body, searching for wounds.
“Sarah… I don’t… I don’t understand,” he stammered, looking at the bodies, then back at my hardened face. “Who are you?”
I looked at my husband, my chest heaving. “Daniel, before I owned the garage… I was Special Forces. Three combat tours. I moved to Milfield because I was desperate for peace. I just wanted to fix broken cars. But it seems trouble has a way of tracking me down.”
William Harrison stepped out from the shadows of the doorway. The patriarch looked at the neutralized hit squad, then at me. “You… you have military training? Combat training?”
“Yes, sir. Extensive.”
“You just saved my entire family.”
