Free Cain's Law (Cowboys on the Edge Book 3) by Delilah Devlin Page B

and then handed her down into the space.
    As she squatted, her gaze clung to his face. “It’s pitch black.”
    He gripped her shoulders and faced her toward the front of the house. “This direction. Now, go.”
    Once he saw her drop to her knees, he covered the hole and breathed. He centered himself, calming his heart, focusing on his surroundings. He stepped into the garage.
    Carina crawled forward, stilling an immediate shriek when her face was covered with something light and sticky—a cobweb. Mother fucker. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She kept the litany of curses going through her mind. She didn’t dare whisper them, or they’d escalate to screams. Joey was out there. Cain was walking into a goddamn trap. Cain could die and it would be all her damn fault.
    She should have listened to her mother. Should have sent Joey packing the first time he’d shown up in his expensive leather jacket and sleek boots. Should have spit in his eye when he’d given her a ring. She’d thought he would ask her to marry him, but he’d only wanted it on her hand to brand her when she was with his friends.
    Her knee landed on a hard stone and she gasped, rearing upward. Her head struck a beam. Tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t wipe them away because she knew her hands were dirty and would leave muddy streaks. A gleam of light pierced the darkness. She turned to glance to her right. The floor above her was glowing. And the sound that had been a distant crackle was now a roar as the fire consumed the wood. She had to get out. Now.
    Again, she moved forward. Her hand struck brick, and she moved left, smoothing her palms over the rough surface to find the door he’d mentioned. Nothing. She moved to the right, toward the fire, her heart pounding faster and faster. At last, she felt the edge of a board and ran her fingers along the outline. A frame. She pushed at the center board and the door popped outward, landing with a soft thud on the grass outside.
    But she held back, afraid to exit. Joey could be out there, waiting. She wasn’t sure what scared her more: her ex, or the fire roaring above her body.
    In the distance, she heard a pop-pop, like firecrackers going off. Her heart stilled. Gunshots! She heard two more and jerked with each sound. Then silence. She held her breath, afraid to move. Another pop. This one louder, sounding closer—then footsteps rustling in the grass next to the house. Holding her breath, she eased beside the access door, hiding in the shadows, praying…
    “Baby, you in there? Carina!”
    At Cain’s shout, she sobbed and lurched toward the opening. Hands grasped her under the arms and pulled her the rest of the way through, and then she was lying across his lap as he rocked her against his chest. “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re safe, baby. Shhhh.”
    Carina clutched his arm and snuggled closer, wishing she could crawl right inside him. His strong arms surrounded her, squeezing the breath out of her. In the distance, she heard sirens.
    “We have to move away from the house.”
    He was right, heat seared the skin of her back. He struggled with her weight, but got to his knees, then rose, carrying her in his arms toward the street and the squad car with its open door.
    A figure sat against the front wheel. Cain’s friend, Tank Owens.
    He rubbed his head. Blood poured from a cut on his forehead.
    Cain set her on her feet. “You okay?”
    She pulled at the hem of her tee. Tank was eyelevel with her ass. “I’m fine. He looks worse,” she said, aiming her chin at Tank’s injury.
    “Damn, I’m fucking useless,” Tank said. “Bastard got the drop on me. Was going to take a walk around the yard, and I got popped. Never saw it coming.”
    “That’s what he used.” Cain kicked a two-by-four lying on the ground.
    Carina tugged on his arm. “I heard shots.”
    Cain stiffened. “He opened fire the minute I stepped into the garage. All I could do was dive for the floor. When I came back up, I just made