Page 42 of Shielding Serena

All he could think of was Serena. He was already sprinting to the door as he tossed over his shoulder, “His name is Mr. Higgins, and I think he’s the one who assaulted Serena.”

Higgins did not look placated in the slightest. In fact, he looked angrier than he had before. “There was a key in the figurine,” he said succinctly. “What did you do with it?”

“I didn’t do anything with it,” she said calmly. “Let me think about this for a second.”

“I don’t have a second. I don’t have a minute. I don’t have an hour. Find the fucking key.”

She backed up a step and bumped into the big crate the figurine had been in. “Oh,” she said. “Let me look in the box. Maybe the key came loose.”

“Doubtful, it was secured very well. But look anyway, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Listen,” she said, one hundred percent into placating him now. “I don’t want to get hurt like Adam did. I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t hurt me.”

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, and he seemed to relax a little.

“Tell me why you’re doing this. Why you hurt me. Please.” She wanted to keep him talking, and dammit, if she was going to be hurt or die, then she at least wanted to know why.

“My retirement is in the safety deposit box that key opens,” he said, his voice sounding hollow now. “If you don’t find it, I’m a dead man,” he repeated. “My partners will find me and kill me.”

Well hell. She rummaged around in the crate with greater urgency, past where she’d searched before, and when her fingers grazed bubble wrap, she knew. The second one had always been in here, hidden beneath a mass of random shit.

She lifted out the second figurine and peeled away the protective wrapping. “I guess I should have kept looking for the other one on Saturday,” she said softly. “We wouldn’t be here if that was the case.”

He looked at the second figurine in shock, and she realized he hadn’t known there were two of them. She held it out to him, then backed up again. He kept the gun pointed at her, and tipped the figurine upside down, peering inside.

Then he did the exact last thing she expected. He threw the fragile glass down against the concrete floor of the storage unit, and it shattered. She yelped and jumped back, bumping into the box again and reaching back to grab the only thing that came to hand.

And as he knelt to search for the key, she leaped forward and bashed him over the head with an antique Mason jar stuffed to the gills with buttons.

It would have been a hysterical weapon, considering the contents, but it did the trick and shattered against his skull, as he’d shattered the figurine.

She raced toward the opening, praying she could get past him before he came to his senses. She almost did. But he reached out with one bleeding hand and grasped her ankle, catching her pant leg and holding tight, his voice back to that snarl. “You fucking bitch,” he said, and aimed the gun at her.

Walker brought his truck to a screaming stop at the corner of the row of storage units, not even trying for stealth. He raced to Serena’s unit and glimpsed her before she was yanked back inside. All the breath left his body. He pulled on every ounce of his military training, going silent as he stepped up to the door and did a quick look around the frame.

Higgins was on the floor, a weapon pointing up at her, blood all over his face and hands. Shattered glass littered the floor, and, of all things, buttons. The man lurched to his feet, screaming obscenities at Serena.

He had about one second to decide to pull the Glock at his back or charge the man, and chose the second, knowing it was now or never. He burst through the doorway, praying with everything in him that Higgins wouldn’t pull the trigger.

He hit Higgins center mass and crashed into him, grasping the man’s wrist and forcing the weapon up. It was obvious Higgins had never had any military training. He folded like an overused deck of cards and went down on his back, screaming as the scattered broken glass cut his shirt to ribbons and dug into his flesh.

Walker kicked the gun away and heard sirens approaching. Garrett had arrived a minute too late, but in time to take the dickhead into custody.

Walker looked up at Serena. “Are you okay, darling?” he asked, his breath coming in sharp pants as adrenaline coursed through him.

She had her arms wrapped around her middle and was staring at Higgins in shock. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just scared and unnerved.”

Walker pinned down the squirming Higgins as Garrett shouted from around the corner, “Walker?”

“Scene secure,” Walker hollered back as Serena popped out to wave them in. Garrett and one of his deputies rounded the corner and stopped stock-still.

“What’s with all the buttons?” Garrett asked as he recovered and motioned for his deputy to cuff Higgins.

Walker gladly handed over the responsibility of restraining the thrashing man, who was now moaning about how his partners were going to kill him, how all he needed was the key, and they’d let him live.

The deputy cuffed Higgins and hauled him to his feet, propelling him toward the waiting patrol car.

Garrett looked at them, bemusement on his usually stoic face. “Want to tell me what happened?”