Page 72 of Stolen By the Billionaire
Maybe they were upstairs on the main floor of the house, their feet walking right over her head at that very minute.
Maybe they would stay and try to wait her out.
That could take a long time.
The water cooler wasn’t the type with a bottle on top. It was a boxy filtration unit hooked into the water supply.
It wouldn’t be thirst that got her.
If they besieged the house, she would starve to death.
And she couldn’t even try to shoot her way out and make her final exit in a blaze of glory because fluffin’ Blaze Robinson had palm-locked his danged gun safes and she couldn’t get at a weapon.
Dang it.
Dang him.
A knock tapped the door.
Sarah tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear against the cold steel.
If she yelled out Who’s there? and it was the bad guys, they’d know she was in the gym.
A man’s low voice said through the door, “It’s Blaze. We’re clear. You can open the door.”
Suspicion still made her hands shake. Anyone could have said that. Blaze had said the bad guys were in the house, and those gunshots could have been from him or from the bad guys. “Prove it.”
“It’s my house. Open the door.”
“What’s the secret password?”
His voice was even lower. “Red.”
Yeah, that was him.
Oh, wow. Her nips were still tender from the knots in the rope, but now she could feel his tee shirt brushing her skin. “Okay, let me undo the lock.”
She flipped the bolts and peeked out the barely open door, holding her bare foot behind it as if it could stop someone with a boot from kicking it open.
Blaze Robinson stood outside in the hallway, his head tilted to look down at her. His level gaze roamed the corridor, as grim as ever. “We’re all clear.”
The flesh around his left eye was tinted magenta, and his eyelid puffed around the slit from where he was watching her.
Sarah opened the door to let him in. “Oh, no. Are you okay?”
He walked into the gym and closed the door behind himself, flipping the locks and heading straight for the weapon safes. “They hacked my security system. When the power goes out, there’s a few seconds delay before the generator kicks in. The security system was supposed to reboot with the generator, but it didn’t. It must have been disarmed from the outside after they cut the electricity.”
“But, Mr. Robinson—”
His slow turn and glare at her reoriented her head. “I mean, Blaze. Your eye doesn’t look okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said, turning back to the gun lockers and lifting his hand toward the obsidian square on the wall.
“You don’t look okay. Why are you holding your side?”
“I do not require medical attention.”
“But you—”
