The intruder stopped. “Okay, now show me the bedroom.”
She led him into the bedroom she and Jack had shared. Some of his clothes still hung over a chair, her silk hose and undergarments on the bathroom floor where she left them. June looked at the little red dress on the bed, and, in an odd way, it looked lonely to her.
“Those are men’s clothes,” the man said. “He’s here somewhere.”
“No. Like I said, there was a security breach or alert or whatever it’s called, and they had to leave in a hurry.”
She felt the gun muzzle tap her in the back and she raised her hands again.
“When?” the man asked.
“About an hour ago.”
“You’re lying.” He increased the pressure on her spine.
“Okay, they left just a few minutes ago,” June said. She tried her best to keep her voice steady. She didn’t want to antagonize him, or come off sounding threatening. She wanted him to think she was on his side.
“Those guys rushed in and hauled him off,” she said. “Just like that, our date was over. Right now, I’m kinda pissed off about the whole thing.” She paused. “Why do you want him?”
He ignored her. “Where’d they take him?”
“Hell if I know,” she said. “All I know is that this has to be just about the worst weekend ever. And I’ve had some pretty shitty ones. Are you going to kill me when you don’t find him?”
“I might kill you just to shut you up.” He tapped her with his gun, getting her moving again. “Convince me you’re telling the truth.”
“Check the bathroom. There’s only one bathrobe left now.”
With the pistol in the small of her back, he nudged her toward the bathroom. There was only one more room to search after that, the last room that he would find empty. She knew the conditions of the relationship would change, then. To what, she had no idea.
She walked slowly. When she got back to the kitchenette, she stopped. She faked a reach to the coffeepot with her right hand.
“Hey!”
With her left hand, she swept behind her, knocking the gun’s aim away from her back. Pushing his arm up with hers, she spun in a move she’d practiced hundreds of times. She locked his gun arm under her armpit, made another quarter turn, then locked his other elbow with her free arm from behind.
Now suddenly behind him, she had control over the weapon and his arms. She tried reaching across him to grab it, but he anticipated her. Larger and stronger than June, he overpowered her grip. With a rearward blast of his elbow to her chest, she stumbled back and fell into the wall.
He came at her. Blindly, she lashed out with a kick. It landed hard, connecting with his groin. He bent over, groaning. She started to scramble up. The intruder growled, still clutching his crotch with his free hand. His gun hand raised, the gun quivering, the muzzle aimed in her direction.
“No!” June shouted.
The man got a shot off, but aimed poorly. The bullet slammed through the wall over her head, throwing up a cloud of plaster dust. A second shot splintered the wood of the doorframe. He drew up to full height, steadying his aim.
Before he could fire again, June landed another kick to his hip. The impact knocked them both backward. June landed awkwardly, hitting her head against the wall. She saw stars.
By then, the man was up. He took a third shot at June, grazing the top of her shoulder. She sent him another kick, this time connecting with the gun in his hand. It flew from his grasp, tumbling across the tile floor. June charged forward, using the distraction to body check him. She slammed into his side, feeling the wind knocked out of her. The intruder fell back, hitting his head on the kitchen counter behind him, knocking the coffeemaker to the floor. The glass pot shattered, spilling scalding-hot liquid onto his face.
He screamed in pain, clawing at his skin, and dropped to the tiles.
Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, June stepped forward, grabbed hold of his black outfit, and slammed his head into one of the kitchen cupboards. He stopped screaming, barely conscious. But June wasn’t done.
She took a side step, bent her knee, and slammed her foot deep into his chest. His body bounced against the cupboard, knocking it off his hinges.
The intruder toppled forward onto his face, still breathing, but not getting up for a while. June nudged him with her foot. Nothing. She retrieved the gun, tossed it in a drawer, and checked his body for other weapons. She found an assault knife and a crowbar tucked into his belt. She threw them into the oven and closed the door.
Fetching a sheet from the laundry cupboard, June slipped it under his body and dragged him across the floor and into the bedroom. Muscles straining, she lifted him onto the bed on his side. Checked his breathing.