by Diana Duncan
She shuffled sideways, putting herself between him and G-Rat, who sat up watching her. She waggled the gun. She’d never realized before how incredibly heavy a weapon could be. Physically and mentally. “Scoot back. Don’t get up until I say.”
“No arguments from me, babe.” His cautious retreat put six feet between them.
Aidan struggled to his feet behind her, his respiration harsh. He had to be in killer agony by now, but headstrong Irish grit kept him going. And she loved him for it.
Elation sang inside her. She loved everything about him.
He rested an unsteady hand on her shoulder. She suspected she was supporting more of his weight than he realized. “God dammit, Zoe! Of all the stubborn, rash, stupid—” he rasped. “You risked your life—” He inhaled shakily. “I told you to leave.”
Okay, maybe she didn’t love his bossy side so much. “And if I had, you’d be a jigsaw puzzle right now. You honestly believe I could walk away and let you die?”
“You should’ve put your own safety first.”
“Right.” Anger and lingering terror made her shake uncontrollably. “Show up at your mother’s house with pieces of you in a box? Sorry, Mrs. O’Rourke.” She dashed away an escaped tear. “I was too worried about my own hide. Guess it will have to b-be a c-closed-casket s-service.”
“Aw, shit,” he whispered, and his front pressed against her back, body to body. As close as they could get to a hug under the circumstances. He, too, was trembling violently. His fingers squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you for saving my life,” he murmured into her ear. “But you scared every fuck I had left outta me.”
“And you didn’t scare me?” she muttered. “I’ll have to add hair dye to my budget to cover all the gray.” She glanced at G-Rat. The wound on his head had soaked through the pad. She’d have to fix that before they left. “We don’t have time for this.”
“No.” Aidan inhaled again as she felt him struggling for control. “Hell, you’ve turned me upside down, inside out, and sideways.”
“Ditto.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at him. Battered and weary, patient suffering clouded his eyes. Her heart stuttered. “You look terrible.”
His sensual mouth slanted in a crooked grin. “And they claim appearances are deceiving.”
“Can you hold the gun on G-Rat while I cuff him?”
“Think I can manage,” he said wryly.
She moved to his left and passed him the pistol.
He gestured at The Rat. “Up.” Despite his condition, or maybe because of it, he looked and sounded dangerously lethal.
G-Rat slowly rose.
She studied the big man. “I’m sorry about ... bullying you.” He was a criminal who had tried to kidnap her and shoot Aidan. Apologizing to him probably seemed ridiculous. But he was a human being and she’d threatened his life. “I didn’t have a choice.”
He shrugged. “Business is business, babe.”
Aidan gestured with the pistol again, and they all walked toward the tree line.
G-Rat barked out a nervous laugh. “At first, I thought you were gonna whack me for copping a feel. A pissed-off chick packing heat is fuckin’ scary.”
Aidan scowled “I’m not ecstatic about it, either, punk-ass. And unless you want to meet a lot more ‘pissed-off chicks’ in your questionable future, keep your hands to yourself.”
Rat spread his palms. “Chill, dude. You took a taste of that. You gotta admit, she has a nice rack. Small, but perky.”
A savage growl rumbled in Aidan’s throat and Zoe glanced at him in alarm. Rage vibrated off her cop in almost visible waves as he snarled, “Shut. Up.”
Her instincts prickled. The hair rose on the back of her neck at the familiar, eerie sense of being stalked. Every nerve screamed, every muscle tightened. She peered into the gloom. Was the underbrush moving? “Aidan! I think someone else—”
The grizzly prowled into the clearing.
G-Rat rapidly backed up. “Holy shitballs! Nobody said nothing about wild animals!”
Aidan pointed the gun at the grizzly. “He smells the blood on you. Don’t move.”
The enormous bear chuffed and stalked toward G-Rat, who rapidly backpedaled.
“Freeze!” Aidan ordered. “Every time you move, he moves, and he thinks you’re prey. Show him you’re not scared, stand your ground.” The sinews in his arm roped as he aimed, prepared to shoot. “I’m working left-handed here and don’t want to hit you instead of the bear.”
G-Rat yelled, “Fuck that sideways!” And bolted for the woods.
The bear charged. The gun roared.
The grizzly flinched away from the noise and scrambled sideways. Then quickly regained its balance and followed the fleeing man into the trees as Aidan spun, shooting once more. The bear veered off track, but didn’t falter.
“Hell, I missed.”
Horrified, she strained to see through the gloom. “Will he make it?”
“Don’t know. Bears can run twenty-five miles an hour. Damn.” Aidan leaned against a wide trunk. “At least I distracted it, gave The Rat a head start. He has better odds now than tied to a tree.”
The proverbial last straw. Zoe sank to her knees.
“Hey!” Aidan crouched at her side, voice deep with concern. “Sweetheart? What is it?” He dropped the gun and his good hand skimmed over her. “Are you hurt?”
“I was so m-mean to him.”
“What?” Incredulity rang in his question. “He’s a criminal, Zoe. He kidnapped us. He assaulted you and did his best to put a bullet in me.”
“I—I know. But he’s still a person. He did save your life. I hit him and tied him up and stuffed stinky socks in his mouth,” she babbled. “I stripped him, ordered him to hang over a cliff, p-pointed a gun at his head and threatened to s-shoot him ... and meant every word. I was such a bitch to him and now he’ll probably die a horrendous death. No matter what, he doesn’t deserve to be bear chow.”
“Come here.” He urged her up, his one-handed movements awkward. His left arm hugged her close to his warm, hard body. “You’ve had a rough day and the stress finally caught up with you. Everything will be all right.”
Rough day? The master of understatement. “Look around, SWAT. How can you say everything will be all right?”
“I just fell over a cliff and survived, thanks to you.” He tipped up her chin, and a gentle thumb stroked her face. “You have to keep it together, honey.”
Her shrill laugh skated on the edge of hysteria. “Have to find it, first.”
He briskly rubbed her back. “Where’s my glass-always-half-full woman? I need her in order for both of us to make it through this. And we have to move, sweetheart.”
“Right.” With difficulty, Zoe squelched her teetering emotions. Suck it up. “I’m slightly frazzled around the edges.”
“No wonder.” His lips brushed hers, a quick, soft caress that filled her with warm resolve. “C’mon. The gunshots could alert the other UNSUBS.” He tucked the pistol in his waistband as he urged her toward the tree line. “And I’m out of ammo.”
Ashamed, she inhaled rapidly. Exhaled hard. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to endanger us.”
“You’re doing damn good,” he murmured. “You can lose your shit after this is over, as much as you need to.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
After a fast adjustment to his sling, which had held up well, considering, he rapidly disguised their tracks while she snatched up their things.
They slogged into deep shadow. Pools of gray splotched the choking blackness, along with occasional slices of silver moonlight. She groped for the steady warmth of Aidan’s callused palm, and his long fingers entwined with hers. Insects chittered and small bodies scurried out of their path. She’d never realized how many predators prowled at night. Leaves rustled overhead. She tensed. An eerie cry echoed in the damp air. Ah, an owl. Staring uneasily at the huge, winged silhouette wheeling into the sky, she stepped on a prickly bush. “Ow!”
/> He stopped, glanced down. “I forgot you were barefoot.”
She smiled. “You had one or two things on your mind.”
“You can move faster with your feet protected. We’re hidden here, have a seat.” He steered her to a fallen log. “Pass me the cardboard covers from what’s left of your notebook.” He folded it into crude insoles. She held them in place while he wrapped the homemade braided rope in spirals around her foot. She tied the ends at the ankle, and he extended his hand. “I need the manicure scissors. I can’t believe you made rope with them so fast.”
“I used something much more efficient.” She retrieved the Swiss Army knife from her bag. “I assume this is yours?”
“Yeah.” Her heart ached at the tenderness in his eyes. “Nice to have it back.” The sharp blade bit through the rope. Aidan bound her other foot. She fastened the rope, and he gave her his socks to pull on over the top and hold everything together. He patted her foot. “Not exactly Nikes, but better than nothing.”
“G-Rat had these in his pockets, too.” She returned his keys and wallet, then helped him retie his dress shoes, minus socks. “Hey, I always buy generic. Silly to spend good money for someone else’s name, if you ask me.”
She stood and turned her foot from side to side, impressed with his ingenuity. The impromptu slipper-shoes were surprisingly comfortable. “What now?”
“Find a place to barricade ourselves until daybreak. Rest and gather our strength. Then recon and reassess.”
He snapped the knife shut. Thrusting it into his pocket, he froze. In the distance, faint sounds echoed through the forest. His eyes narrowed. “Or not.” His mouth compressed in a grim line.
She frowned. “Do I hear barking?”
“Shit! They’re hunting us with dogs.” He grabbed her hand. “We can’t hide from dogs. Kick it into high gear.”
She clutched his hand, running flat out. Unable to see anything except menacing shadows and distorted shapes, she had to trust him to lead. Behind them, the barking sounded more strident.
Had the dogs caught their scent?
Aidan dragged her down a bank. Her feet plopped into ice-cold liquid, tearing a gasp from her throat. “It’ll be a lot harder to run in the creek.”
“Also harder to track our scent.” The barking grew louder. “Hustle!”
Though the makeshift slippers became heavy and sodden in the calf-deep stream, she appreciated some protection between her feet and the rocky creek bottom. No time to remove them, anyway.
They stumbled and slipped in their headlong flight. A sideways current dragged against them, hindering every step.
After slogging what seemed like miles, her calf muscles burned and her thighs wobbled like cooked spaghetti.
Beside her, Aidan staggered. How could he keep up this pace after dislocating his shoulder and falling over a cliff? He had to be running on sheer stubbornness. She tripped, dropped to her knees in the icy stream. “Can’t take ... another step. Go ... without me.”
He hauled her up. “All for one and one for all.”
Damn. If he could do it in his battered condition, come hell or high water, so could she. Zoe stubbornly lifted one leaden foot at a time. She could barely breathe, but set her body on auto pilot and strove to sublimate fear and pain. She sucked in oxygen. “Musketeers ... really fits.”
He squeezed her hand. “Breathe, don’t talk.”
“Tell you ... later.”
They pushed ahead. Farther downstream, she cocked her head. The barking sounded fainter, and off to their right. “Lose ... them?”
“Doubt it.” He slipped, splashing water to his waist and drenching her right side in ice.
She clung to him, keeping him upright. Would this nightmare ever end? “Naturally. Wouldn’t do ... to let us get complacent.”
They slogged around a bend. Uttering a ragged laugh, he dodged an overhanging tree limb. “There’s my snarky woman.”
A cramp arrowed into Zoe’s side, doubling her over. She hugged her ribs. “Lungs don’t ... work,” she wheezed. She again fell to her knees. This time he dropped beside her. Shivering, she planted her hands in the stony creek-bed and hung her head. “Leg muscles ... don’t work, either.”
A moment of silence ticked past, broken only by the thrashing, baying threat of their pursuers closing in. “Okay.” He inhaled, catching his breath. His tone was deathly calm. “Hide under the exposed tree roots over there. I’ll lead them away from you.”
Behind them, fervent barking again echoed louder.
Fierce determination exploded inside her. She shoved to her feet. Yanked him up beside her. “In the immortal words of G-Rat, ‘fuck that sideways.’”
He ground out another low, ragged laugh.
Helped by the brief respite and energized with resolve, her second wind kicked in as she jogged downstream beside him. Though she was soaked, frozen, sore, and exhausted, it no longer mattered. “You sure know how to push my buttons.”
His velvet voice rumbled out as rich and tempting as Irish coffee. “In the immortal words of Zoe middle-name-unknown Zagretti, ‘you haven’t seen anything yet.’”
She shivered again as a sensual burn shimmered, warming her from the inside out. Her nipples tightened against the wet cotton. How did he do that? How the hell did he turn her on in the middle of an ice-cold creek while running for her life? Maybe terror had unhinged her. “It’s Francesca.”
He rammed his shin into a boulder, swore and flailed, but kept his balance. Barely.
She tried not to focus on the yelping dogs chasing them. Had adrenaline sharpened her senses, or did she hear crashing underbrush and men’s voices more clearly?
The hunters were closing in! Yet she and Aidan slowed, both running out of steam.
Out of time.
Terror coiled tightly in her chest. “They’re gaining on us!”
He urged her to a painfully faster pace. Soon, her legs would give out altogether. “Don’t look back. Keep going.”
The creek widened and grew more shallow with each step, aiding their flight. They splashed around another bend, down a hill, then staggered onto a beach.
Loose sand shifted beneath their feet, making running almost impossible. She swayed against the sharp slap of ocean breeze as they staggered toward the shoreline.
They’d sprinted halfway down the beach when a pack of dogs broke through the trees. Four yelling men followed.
She glanced back at their pursuers. Then ahead, at the roaring ocean. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
They were trapped.
Chapter 12
3:00 a.m.
“There!” Aidan’s harsh breathing rasped over the crashing breakers as he pointed. Fifty yards ahead, a long, thin shadow thrust onto the ocean’s surface. Bobbing boats floated alongside. “Head for that dock.”
BOOM! BOOM! Gunshots kicked up sand beside him.
He dodged, and they both ran faster. Renewed terror hit Zoe with a burst of adrenaline-laced speed. Gasping breaths slashed in her throat. Her sodden rope shoes squished against sand. A sharp breeze whipped her face and wet body with icy tendrils of fear.
Barely holding their lead, they sprinted hand-in-hand down the beach.
They clambered onto the uneven wooden dock. “Ever start an outboard motor?” he gasped.
“Yes. Covered ... pro fishing ... tournament.”
“Thank Fuck.” He flung her forward. “Run to the far end,” he panted. “Find a boat with a motor. Power it up.”
Her footsteps thumped along worn boards. She risked a quick look over her shoulder before clambering into a rocking boat. Aidan’s knife blade glinted in the moonlight as he zigzagged down the dock, cutting boats adrift.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Gunshots exploded. Aidan ducked, a wood piling splintering beside his hip.
She shoved the shift lever into neutral, pulled out the choke, turned the handgrip. She yanked the starter rope with four frantic pulls before the motor blasted to life. “Aidan!
Come on!”
He stumbled toward her. “Get in the bow! Get down!”
She scrambled to the front as he leapt into the boat. He grunted with pain when he landed, but his blade again gleamed, slicing the rope mooring them to the piling. He cranked the throttle wide open and the boat plowed toward open water.
Dogs barked, footsteps thundered. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Miniature geysers sprayed as bullets pockmarked the sea.
While she huddled in the bow, the bad guys blazed away at Aidan. A sharp crack jerked her upright, heart in her throat. “Are you hit?”
Face gray and drawn, he crouched over the motor. “No. Stay down!”
Multiple motors burst into roars far behind them and he snarled in frustration. “Dammit! I cut loose as many as I could.”
She hunkered on the bottom as choppy waves lifted the small craft and then slammed it down, again and again.
The boat began to slow. She glanced back at Aidan. “What’s happening?”
Grim fury hardened his handsome features. “A round hit the hull. We’re taking on water.”
She looked down. Her hands were so cold, she hadn’t realized she was wrist-deep in seawater. Her stomach fluttered. “Who said things can’t get any worse?”
She unzipped her bag, dumped out her vinyl makeup case and frantically scooped water with the pouch. “Even if I had a gallon bucket, it’s flooding faster than I can bail.”
Growling motors cut through the night behind them. Merciless headlights loomed closer.
“Shit hell fuckit all!” Aidan spat and steered the floundering boat around a massive rock outcropping. The pursuing lights disappeared from view. Sheltered on the other side, he idled the motor. The hull scraped rocks and he tossed her the stern rope. “Knot the end. Lasso a boulder.”
Feet spread, she rode the pitching boat. Two swings later, she caught the crest of a boulder. A wicked grin flashed in his dark-stubbled face. “Damn, you’re good.”
He scooped three flares, a coiled nylon rope, fishing lures, and a folded tarp from a plastic bin beneath the wooden seat. “Put these in your bag.” After she stashed them, he snatched the empty gun from his waistband. “This too.” She zipped it into her bag. He threw her the lone battered life vest. “Put it on. Jump.”
