by Cindy Stark
She swallowed a scream before sucking in a huge breath of air. The sound of running feet grew closer and closer. This was it. They had her. Her life was over.
Her lungs deflated as a strong arm grabbed her around the waist, knocking her feet from under her. The harsh pavement rushed toward her face, but at the last second, she was flipped, and she landed on her attacker.
Before she could clamber off the big brute of a man, he was out from under her, pulling her to her feet. "I'm here to save you." His rough voice was close to her ear, and she aimed her fists in that direction. He caught them as though they were butterflies and pinned them to her sides.
"Don't fight me."
Again, she heard another engine roaring toward them from behind. She jerked her gaze toward the oncoming lights, no longer able to comprehend in which direction lay life and which meant death. Her choice was taken from her as the brute tossed her over his shoulder, nearly causing her to vomit. Her stomach bounced violently against his hard body for several steps, and then she was unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the black vehicle.
Before her captor could get the door shut, several shots rang out from the approaching car. Allie screamed when bullets shattered the glass behind her. Her attacker slammed the door shut and shoved her to the floor as the driver screeched down the darkened alley.
"Stay down." The harsh words came from the front seat, and she wished she could get a glimpse of the driver. But at the moment, she had no desire to put herself in the line of fire. She focused on the guy next to her, trying to memorize his details so she could report them to the police. But in the darkness of the car, she could only make out short dark hair and muscles. Lots of muscles.
It was obvious whoever was in the car behind them wanted to kill them. It might not have been her first choice of places to be, but apparently, she was better off where she was. The driver swerved, adding to the nauseous feeling in her stomach. More bullets whizzed overhead and lodged themselves somewhere in the car.
"Where the hell is your gun?" The driver yelled over his shoulder as he squealed around a corner, causing Allie's head to press hard against the door behind her.
"I've got it," shouted the man next to her. "Can't you be fucking patient? The bastard winged me in the arm."
Allie gasped as the brute sat higher in the seat and fired off several rounds through the broken back window. Then he ducked down on the seat next to her. Their faces were only inches apart. He watched her as she watched him. She swore she could feel his breath against her cheek. Life and death. They were in it together. "Who are you?" She needed to know.
The car swerved around another corner, but she couldn't look away from the man lying next to her.
"It doesn't matter. Don't worry. You're going to live." He sat up again, firing shot after shot. Allie wanted to cover her ears, but she had one arm pinned beneath her while the other hurt like hell from Joey knocking her down.
Through the open back window, she heard tires shriek from the other car, followed by a loud, resounding crash.
"I hope you're dead, asshole." The brute spit out each word into the darkness of night, and then turned and fell against the seat next to her.
The man behind the wheel slowed before turning another corner, and then everything was quiet except the sound of the engine purring beneath them, speeding her away from what was left of her tattered life.
"Get us off the streets, Max. The cops will be swarming soon." The brute held out a hand to her. "It's okay. You can get up now," he said, in a gentler voice.
Allie was beyond emotion. For a moment, she wondered if she could trust the big man next to her, and then she decided she didn't have it in her to care. She tried to get up. Each movement sent a jab of pain spearing through her. "I can't. I'm stuck." She'd managed to get herself nicely wedged between the front and back seats.
"Give me your hand."
The sound of his voice soothed her, and she wanted to go to him. Perhaps it was because he offered her safety, or maybe she needed to feel a living body next to her. "Something's wrong with my arm. It hurts to move it." She lifted her hand toward him, a burning pain coursing up her arm. She gasped and cradled it against her. "I can't."
"Hell. Max, pull this beast over for a minute so I can get her off the floor."
"I'm trying to get us out of here before the cops flood the city." Although the shooting was over, tension still strung along each of Max's words, belying the calm manner in which he drove.
"Pull over."
Apparently, the brute was in command, because the car slowed to a stop. The driver got out, and Allie's head fell back as the door opened behind her.
Max looked down into her eyes and smiled. It wasn't a kind smile, though. In fact, there wasn't any emotion behind it at all. He was a few years older than her and wore a baseball hat backward that partially covered his sandy blond hair. She found him attractive in a powerful kind of way—sort of like a moth might find a light bulb. "Well, you've got yourself into a bind, haven't you?"
Was there a sneer to his tone? "I guess I have," she answered, stiffening as he placed his hands under her armpits. She wanted to remind him she'd been forced into the car and onto the floor, but it might be best to not make enemies at the moment.
"Quit flirting with her, Max."
She shifted her gaze to the muscled man who knelt over her, and she wondered where that remark had come from. She didn't think Max had been flirting. In fact, if anything, he seemed annoyed he had to stop the car to help her.
Her rescuer's hands slipped to the underside of her bare legs. He was a few years older, too, and even better looking than Max. His rough fingers grazed the backs of her thighs and, once again, she found she couldn't look away from him. This time, the dome light in the car gave her a better look at his features. Dark hair, military short. Stubble shadowed his jaw. His lips were set in a thin line, and a hard look hovered in his midnight, mesmerizing eyes.
She focused there as Max tightened his grip under her arms. She needed the comfort she'd found moments before when the shots had been whizzing past their heads.
"You got her?" Her brute's gaze didn't waver from hers.
"Got her," Max answered.
"Okay, lift."
Allie bit back a cry as the two men pulled her from between the seats. "Oh, God," she said as she finally sat upright on the backseat, grasping her injured arm with her now free hand. "It's—"
She pulled her hand away and gasped again. The too-familiar sticky feeling threatened to send her over the edge. It was like Joey. Just like Joey. She held her shaking, red-stained hand out in front of her as her eyes began to blur. Was it her blood or Joey's? She suddenly remembered she needed to get help for him. "Joey's going to die." She looked at the brute, feeling more and more helpless. "Am I going to die?"
"Shit." The man next to her pulled her favorite black jacket down her arm as he cursed. "She's been hit."
Why had she worn that jacket anyway? It had been so warm out. She really hadn't needed it. And now it had a big gaping hole in the fabric. Just like her life.
The inside of the car tilted, and she reached out, trying to grab something to steady her.
Max caught her hands, holding them. "There's glass stuck in her," he said, sounding as though he was talking through a tunnel.
"Get us out of here, Max. She's going into shock."
She slipped toward the voice next to her as a car door slammed shut.
"I'm on it, Jase."
Jase? She mumbled and winced as someone prodded her injured arm. "Where's Joey?" She leaned against the body next to her, finding the comfort she'd been searching for. Warm arms circled around her, pulling her close.
It was Joey. He was here. He'd keep her safe. She let herself fade into oblivion.
About the Author
Cindy Stark lives with her family and a sweet Border Collie named Boo in a small town shadowed by the Rocky Mountains. She currently writes romantic suspense and contempora
ry romances.
To find other books by Cindy, visit her website at www.cindystark.weebly.com
