The Baby Assignment. Christy Barritt
it emanated. But this wasn’t the time.
She held her breath, listening, trying to anticipate what would happen next.
Another round of gunfire exploded outside.
Tanner...had Tanner been hurt? She didn’t care about the man anymore, but she didn’t him to be injured...or worse.
She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Tried to use the techniques she taught others who suffered with anxiety. Tried to visualize positive outcomes.
You can do this, Macy. You’re smart and capable.
But the mind had always been her battleground, not her office space. Not guns or violence. Her weapons were self-control. Faith. Reprogramming thoughts. Prayer.
A surge of anxiety rose in her, and she gripped the toner more tightly.
Shouts sounded outside.
What was going on? Part of her hated hiding out, while the other part was too terrified to move.
All of this over a baby? That’s what her mind kept going back to and tried to wrap itself around.
Every child was important...but what made Addie such a commodity to someone that they’d go to these lengths?
Or maybe this wasn’t about Addie at all, she reminded herself. It could be related to one of her other cases, one of her clients. There was so much she didn’t know, but she was certain that she had to protect this child.
“It’s going to be okay, precious,” she whispered. She gently poked the baby’s stomach, and Addie kicked her legs, temporarily distracted from her growing agitation. “We’re going to get things figured out for you. Somehow. Some way.”
We? She meant Tanner. Tanner would figure this out. Macy would do whatever she could to help, but this was above her skill level.
Just then, she heard something scraping against the floor.
The shelf, she realized.
Someone had gotten the door open and was now shoving the bookshelf out of the way.
The scraping sound stopped.
That meant someone was inside the room with her.
The skin on the back of her neck crawled.
Macy gripped the toner more tightly. If only she could see what was happening.
She put a finger over her lips, urging Addie to remain quiet. As if the baby could understand.
She lowered her head, trying to peek through the crack between the desk and the floor. She saw black combat boots headed her way.
She sucked in a quick breath.
It was one of the gunmen.
Her blood went cold.
Her heart pounded furiously into her ears as she pushed herself deeper under the desk. No, no, no...
Please, baby Addie. Stay quiet.
The baby was getting tired and irritated. It was probably time for her to eat. Or her gums could hurt with incoming teeth. Or her diaper could need to be changed.
From his current angle, the man couldn’t see them. But the farther he came into the room, Macy knew the gunman would spot her. And when he did...
She shuddered as scenarios rushed through her mind.
He stepped closer, closer. Footsteps padded on carpet. Macy could hear him breathing, his inhales and exhales heavy and laced with adrenaline. Danger crackled in the air.
She put a hand on Addie’s chest as the baby’s lips pulled downward like she might cry.
Macy held her breath, hardly able to hear over the blood rushing in her ears.
You can do this. You can do this.
She sensed the gunman was closer. Only seconds away from spotting her.
Just then, Addie let out a whimper.
Macy had to take action. The gunman’s footsteps quickened, headed her way. She waited until his shadow blocked the light above her.
Then she sprang from beneath the desk and flung the toner at him. Powder went into his eyes, and he howled with pain, bending over and turning in a partial circle.
Quickly, Macy grabbed Addie, climbed from her hiding spot, and rushed toward the doorway. Before she got there, the man growled, “Stop right there.”
His voice chilled her to the bone.
Macy turned, anxiety stretching through each of her muscles. She kept Addie shielded and looked over her shoulder.
Dear Lord, please protect us.
The man wiped his eyes with one hand, but he held his gun with the other. The barrel was pointed straight at her. Malice stained his gaze as he stared at her and blood oozed from his shoulder.
“Give me the baby,” he demanded.
“No,” Macy said, holding Addie more closely.
The baby whined again, and tears appeared in her eyes. The poor thing. Could she sense the danger in the air? Her agitation only compounded Macy’s stress.
If Tanner wasn’t here now, he must be hurt. The only way he’d let this confrontation happen was over his dead body. The thought caused a lump to form in Macy’s throat.
Moisture tried to rush to her eyes, but she held it back. This fight wasn’t over. Not yet.
“Did you say no?”
Macy pulled Addie closer. “Stay away from this baby.”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, lady.”
“You’re a monster.”
“I’ll show you a monster if you don’t hand over the girl.”
“No,” she repeated.
“Have it your way.” He raised his gun toward Macy’s chest.
Gunfire blasted through the air. Macy braced herself for the pain that she was certain would come.
* * *
Tanner stood in the doorway and watched the masked gunman collapse to the ground. He hadn’t wanted to shoot him, but he’d had no alternative. It was either the man died or Macy.
The choice was a no-brainer.
“Tanner?” Macy whispered.
Macy’s stunned eyes met his. In four steps, he reached her, bypassing the gunman, now sprawled on the floor with blood gushing from his chest.
Tanner kicked away the man’s gun and quickly checked him for any other weapons. There were none.
He’d already confirmed that the other men he’d shot had fled, so they shouldn’t be any danger to Macy or Tanner right now.
Despite all their past history, Macy fell into his arms, her limbs trembling and her eyes watery. The intensity of the moment had broken down their walls...at least temporarily. That situation would have shaken up the strongest of persons.
Tanner had seen it in her eyes: Macy had thought she was going to die.
He’d also seen her willingness to lose her life rather than give up Addie. It was admirable, but not surprising. Macy had always been unselfish.
That was part of the reason why their breakup had been so difficult and hard to accept. So much about it still didn’t make sense.
He held her another moment, relishing her familiar, clean scent. She still wore that perfume that smelled like fresh cotton. He’d missed it.
Protect your heart, he reminded himself.
Almost as if she could sense his thought—or as if she’d