A couple of hours after Eli left, Claire jerked upright in bed, awakened by a loud noise.

What was that?

Sleepiness fled her mind as she shoved back her covers. It had been banging of some sort—nothing that was normal for this time of night. Grayson and Jeremy always kept noise to a minimum when they were on guard duty overnight, something she appreciated.

Concerned, she slipped out of bed wearing the T-shirt and shorts she’d been sleeping in the past few nights, and slipped on her running shoes as an afterthought. Holding her breath, she opened the bedroom door and eased silently into the hallway. Downstairs, light from the kitchen bathed the living room in a dim glow as she peered over the landing, far enough to see the living room curtains fluttering on a gust of wind.

Claire took a few steps down and peeked over the banister, her gaze drawn to the sliding glass door that led from the kitchen to the patio. Why was it open? Had Jeremy gone outside, maybe to check the perimeter?

Her instincts screamed that she should stay quiet rather than call out to him, but logic told her she was probably just being paranoid.

A shadowy figure moved into the house through the open slider, and Claire ducked back into the stairwell. Keeping herself hidden, she sucked in a breath as the person entered, dressed in dark clothing and wearing a ski mask. Someone else followed on his heels, dressed the same way.

A scream bubbled up her throat, but she bit it back. Her heart pounded so hard she could barely hear herself think. Silently, she crept back into her bedroom and eased the door closed. On tiptoe, she darted across the room and opened the balcony door.

Eli had left just before bedtime, saying another team member would be there first thing in the morning. It was only Jeremy downstairs now. Had the men hurt him?

I’ve got to get him help!

Claire stepped onto the dark balcony and leaned over the railing. It was at least a ten-foot drop to the ground, but she had no choice. The intruders would be upstairs any second. She was their target . . . there was no doubt about that.

Trembling with fear, she leaned over the railing and swung one leg to the other side. With a death grip on the railing, she pulled her other leg over and lowered herself as far as she could go. She dangled in the air for a second, holding on for dear life, and sent up a silent prayer before she let go.

The force of the impact on the front lawn jolted Claire’s feet and ankles. She tumbled to the dewy grass and rolled. Nothing felt broken as she scrambled to her feet, looking wildly around her.

The neighborhood was dark except for the streetlights’ dim glow. Panting with fear, she thought quickly. The men came in through the back of the house, so that wasn’t an option. There might be more of them in the backyard. If she ran to a neighboring house for help, the men would surely see, and she didn’t want to put anyone else in danger.

What should I do?

A hundred yards or so down the street was a wooded area, a green space of several acres that also included a small park. Claire remembered passing by it as they’d first driven to the safe house. Lights from a neighboring development were visible through the trees. It would be safer to get help there.

That was her best bet, so she bent low and sprinted diagonally across the street toward the park. Her running shoes slapped on the concrete sidewalk as she followed the curve of the road and raced for the trees.

She’d just entered the park when headlights brightened the street. Over her shoulder, Claire glimpsed a familiar SUV as it passed under a streetlight, headed toward the safe house.

Grayson!

She stumbled to a halt and looked back at the house. He would be in trouble if the men surprised him. Without a phone, she had no way of warning him or calling for help. And where was Jeremy?

Her heart thrashed like a wild beast in her chest as she whirled and ran after the SUV. His taillights disappeared around a bend just as she heard the squeal of tires from another vehicle approaching from the direction of the safe house.

Claire froze. She was on the street now, vulnerable and exposed. Terror filled her as a car came around the bend. Headlights beamed her way, bathing her in light, and the car screeched to a stop.

No!

Hardly able to breathe, she turned and ran. It wasn’t until she was fifty feet or so into the woods that she heard branches snapping behind her. Claire risked a glance over her shoulder. Two dark figures dodged trees and trampled underbrush, racing toward her in the darkness.

Too close. She wouldn’t be able to outrun them; Grayson had proven that at the gas station. Time to stand her ground and fight back.

Adrenaline flooded her system. She slowed and stooped to grab hold of a stout fallen branch. Turning, she slammed the branch as hard as she could into the face of the man who was closest.

“Bitch!”

His hands flew up to his ski mask as he cursed hard. Claire looked up to see the second man hurtling toward her, only a few feet away.

She dropped the branch and took off again, making it only a few yards before she was caught by the hair and yanked against a brawny chest. Screaming, Claire struggled, kicking her legs and clawing at the man’s arms even as she was shoved to the leaf-covered ground. He grunted and swung his fist, connecting with the side of her face.

Oh my God . . .

Desperate to get away, she flipped onto her hands and knees and tried to scramble out of the man’s grip. Another blow came from behind and caught her temple. Her vision tunneled, and she was too stunned to react when he shoved her facedown on the ground and stuffed a rag into her mouth.

The last thing Claire felt before everything went black was her arms being tugged behind her.