Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT STORM
The storm hit La Jolla at midnight with a sudden, violent fury.
The wind howled off the Pacific, rattling the heavy glass windows of the guest house and sending sheets of cold, gray rain slamming against the white stucco walls. In her bedroom, Emma Dawson slept fitfully, her dreams filled with the ghost of her ex-husband and the cold, unyielding face of Adrian Cross.
In the next room, Noah lay awake, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his ears straining to hear over the roar of the wind. He had been reading a book on computer programming his tutor had given him, but he couldn't concentrate.
Something felt wrong.
It wasn't the storm. He had lived through storms before. It was a sound—a low, rhythmic scraping against the courtyard wall that didn't sound like tree branches.
Noah slipped out of bed, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. He walked to the window, pulling the heavy curtain back just a fraction of an inch.
Through the rain-slicked glass, he saw them.
Three men, dressed in dark, waterproof gear, climbing over the stone wall of the courtyard. They moved with a silent, military precision that made Noah’s heart freeze in his chest. One of them carried a heavy, black metal tool—a glass-cutter.
They were heading for Lily’s window.
"Mom," Noah whispered, his voice cracking with panic as he turned and ran toward his mother’s room. "Mom, wake up!"
He burst into Emma’s room, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her violently. "Mom! There are men in the courtyard! They’re trying to get Lily!"
Emma sat up instantly, her eyes wide with sleep and terror. "What? Noah, what are you saying?"
"They’re climbing the wall!" Noah hissed, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the hallway. "We have to get Lily! Now!"
Before they could reach the door, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the guest house.
A high-pitched, terrified scream followed.
"Lily!" Emma shrieked, her mother’s survival instincts instantly wiping away her fear. She tore down the hallway, bursting into Lily’s bedroom just as one of the dark figures was lifting a crying, struggling Lily through the broken French doors.
"Let her go!" Emma screamed, lunging at the man with her bare hands, her fingernails tearing at his face.
The man let out a grunt of pain, his hand flying to his bloody cheek as he stumbled back against the balcony railing. The second man stepped into the room, his fist swinging in a short, brutal arc that caught Emma squarely on the jaw, sending her crashing to the floor, her head hitting the nightstand with a sickening thud.
"Mom!" Noah yelled, throwing himself onto the second man’s back, his small fingers digging into the man’s eyes.
"Get this kid off me!" the man roared, shaking Noah off like a dog shaking off water, sending the boy slamming against the wall.
The first man grabbed Lily, wrapping a heavy, wet blanket around her head to muffle her screams, and climbed back over the balcony into the dark, rain-swept courtyard.
"We’ve got the package!" the man shouted into his radio as they ran toward the wall. "Move, move, move!"
Noah struggled to his feet, his head spinning, his shoulder burning with pain. He looked at his mother, who lay motionless on the floor, a thin line of blood running down her temple.
He didn't cry. He didn't scream.
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He ran to the nightstand, grabbed the emergency security button Marcus had given them, and pressed it with all his strength.
The alarm klaxons began to wail across the estate, their red lights flashing through the rain, turning the white mansion into a screaming, chaotic nightmare.
