Standby (Open Skies Book 4) by Becca Jameson (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📗

didn’t say anything for a while, but she could feel her phone vibrating every once in a while, and Jake would glance at it and then lower it to his chest again. Finally, he sucked in a breath and blew it out. “Get dressed. I don’t like this.” He squeezed her hand and then climbed out of bed.

She slid off the other side. She was shaking as she changed into jeans and a T-shirt. She even put her shoes on, fearing they might need to leave the house.

Jake dressed similarly and she followed him into the living room where Jason was pacing in front of the windows. All the lights were out.

Jason looked toward them. “Anything new?”

“He knows where we are.”

Jason nodded.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “I should have taken her to a hotel.”

Shayla grabbed his arm. “No. I’m not spending my life running from this asshole.”

He wrapped his arm around her. “I know, but at least you’d be safer. I’m calling Stallman back.” He padded to the kitchen as he made the call. The only light in the room was from streetlights. The blinds were closed, but Jason kept glancing out the side.

“Coffee?” Jake asked from the kitchen. She could hear the Keurig already running. He was making the first cup in the dim lighting.

“No thanks,” she and Jason said at the same time.

Shayla rubbed her arms, chilled from anticipation. This was a never-ending nightmare. How was she ever going to get the man to stop harassing her? Forget harassment. She was certain if he got his hands on her again, he would kill her without playing with her first.

She could hear Jake on the phone in the kitchen, undoubtedly talking to the police. When he returned, he was sipping coffee. “Police are sending someone.”

Jason nodded slowly. “I’d almost rather they didn’t.”

“I know. I agree,” Jake said, “But I’m not taking any chances with Shayla here in the house.”

“What do you mean? Why don’t you want the cops to come?” she asked, glancing back and forth between them. When neither answered her, it dawned on her that they’d rather handle Hawke once and for all on their own. “Oh.”

Shayla rubbed her eyes and lowered onto the sectional. Less than a second later, a loud crash made her jump back to her feet, gasping. Eyes wide, she watched as Jason jerked back several feet to avoid the broken glass. There was a brick on the floor in the middle of the living room. The blinds were askew and swaying back and forth.

Jason pulled a gun from the back of his jeans as he eased up next to the window. Jake grabbed Shayla and yanked her down to the floor behind the couch. He set his lips on her ear. “Shhh. Stay down,” he whispered.

Her heart was racing. How could something like this happen to her twice in the same week?

Jake’s hand was on her back, but it slid away as he jogged across the room, staying low, gun drawn. He made hand signals toward Jason, who nodded. And then Shayla gasped as she watched Jake leave the house through the back door.

She wanted to scream. She hated him going out there. Dammit.

“You fucking bitch,” Hawke yelled from the front lawn. There was no mistaking his voice or the fact that he was drunk.

Shayla shrunk down lower, scared out of her mind about what might happen to Jake. What was he doing?

A gunshot made her jump out of her skin. And then she realized Hawke was shooting randomly at the house. “Fucking come out here, or I’ll keep shooting until you do, bitch.” A dog started barking.

Jason was suddenly beside Shayla. “Do not move from right here unless you have to, understand?”

She nodded.

“And stay as low as you can. The sofa is protecting you.”

“Okay,” she murmured as he crawled low back toward the window.

Another shot hit the house.

She cringed as she put her hands over her head.

The next shot came from another direction, and Shayla realized it was probably from Jake.

Someone screamed. In pain? Hawke. God, she hoped so.

“Drop your weapon,” Jake shouted. Every single syllable was amplified by the fact that the window was missing, though it was a wonder she could hear Jake over the cacophony of barking dogs.

“Fuck you, asshole.” Another shot.

Shit. Shayla was shaking violently now. Every time a gun went off, she feared Jake would be hit. Or Jason.

She heard sirens in the distance. Thank God. She had to pray they would get there before Hawke shot someone. Lights were coming on in the surrounding homes, illuminating the front yard.

Another shot.

“Drop the fucking gun, Hawke. You’re not going to get away with this.” Thank God. She exhaled when she heard Jake’s voice.

“Fuck you,” Hawke screamed yet again. “Tell that bitch to get her ass out here.”

“Not gonna happen, man. You’re just making things worse for yourself.”

In a crazed shout that sounded like a feral animal, Hawke once again yelled, “Fuuuck you!”

The sirens sounded louder. They had to be close.

Another shot.

And then Jason said, “Shit.”

“What? What happened? Jason, tell me what happened.” She feared Jake had been shot this time based on Jason’s reaction. “Is it Jake?”

“Nah.” Jason chuckled, which seemed like a ridiculous reaction. A second later, he was standing over her. “You don’t know Jake very well if you think any drunk asshole could ever manage to hit him with a bullet. He’s invincible. You can get up now.”

She was trembling as he helped her stand. “Did he…” She swallowed. “Did Jake shoot Hawke?”

“No. He didn’t have to. Hawke shot himself.” Jason helped her around to the other side of the couch and lowered her to sitting. “Stay here. I’ll send the police inside. You don’t want to see that.”

She nodded. If Hawke shot himself in the head or the chest or something, she sure didn’t want to see it. She was shivering, even with her arms wrapped around her middle as Jason opened the front door and stepped outside. He didn’t bother