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the
home and as such, posed little to no threat. Besides, I smirked
when the man held both hands up, palm out, in a wordless plea to
Claire, this guy was scared enough on his own.
    I watched her eyes narrow and her grip
tighten around the pearl handle of her unsheathed knife and then I
glanced back to the blonde's pale face. Beside me, Claire
practically radiated tension and looked like she was ready to
spring. Mike sidestepped neatly then, easily placing himself
between his livid sister and the man.
    "What is he doing here?" Claire hissed
without releasing her grip on the weapon.
    "Please calm down and listen," Mike soothed
while Mark stepped up behind Claire and placed his hands lightly on
her shoulders. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear
that I couldn't quite make out, but in the next instant her tense
stance relaxed. She didn't release the knife but let the tip drop a
little lower; it was almost facing the floor of the porch now. I
let my gaze drift back to Mike and the stranger, intensely curious
now.
    "He's with us." Mike began, and boy wasn't
that the wrong choice of words to lead with.
    "He's what?" Claire growled. "Get out of my
way, Mike. Where are my children? If you've done anything to my
family–"
    "Claire, baby," Mark wrapped his arms around
her waist and lifted her off the floor by an inch or two while she
struggled and kicked out. Her face was twisted in rage and beneath
that...fear. A deep, churning fear.
    "Who is he?" I asked.
    Claire's struggles ceased just long enough
for her to lock eyes with me. "I don't know his name, but he's one
of John's hired goons from back home. Before I came here the first
time, I found this one lurking in my house with some other
criminals. In the dark. He'd been sent there to kill me and he
would have if I hadn't shot him." She took a deep breath and hot
color infused her cheeks. "I'm only sorry I didn't kill him that
night." Her struggles resumed anew and I rounded on Mike with a
sense of disbelief.
    "Have you lost your mind?" I demanded.
    "No." He was firm. "Claire, I know how this
looks. I know this looks bad, but hear me out."
    "No." she snapped. Mark remained silent but
continued to hold her firmly in his grip.
    "Aw, hell." Mike sighed. "He saved
Megan."
    This news actually succeeded in stopping
Claire's struggles and even rendered her speechless for a second.
The moment didn't last. "What do you mean he saved Megan? Didn't
you just hear what I said? He tried to kill me. How could you bring
him here?"
    "If you would just take a minute and calm
down, I'm trying to explain it to you." Mike said, clearly
exasperated.
    "Fine." Claire forced the word through
gritted teeth and glared at the man beyond her brother.
    "Earl Atkins came after us." Mike exhaled
and his eyes became almost glacial. "And by 'us' I mean he came
after Megan. He cornered her in her garage when she'd returned home
from a doctor's appointment in Seattle."
    The blood seemed to drain from Claire's face
but she remained silent and went as still as a statue.
    "Carl–the man standing beside me–"
    "The hit man." Claire interrupted.
    Mike looked pained and opened his mouth only
to have the man, Carl, speak up in a quiet, reserved tone.
    "It's alright Mike."
    "You're damn right it's alright." Claire
snapped. "First of all, you're in my house. Oh wait, you were in my
house the last time too, weren't you? The night you tried to murder
me for money."
    "Lady, if I'd wanted to murder you, you
would be dead right now." The words were spoken in a very matter of
fact way, without malice.
    Mark and Claire didn't
seem to see it that way. Mark's hands tightened reflexively against
the honeyed skin of Claire's arms and he leaned forward to speak
over her shoulder with a low snarl. "Watch how you talk to my wife.
I agreed to let you step into my home, I agreed to let you live , but don't push
me."
    "I meant no disrespect." Carl eyed the
larger man with a guarded expression. "I only meant I've never
missed a