“Sawyer?” Her voice was soft, breathless.
He glanced down at her and even with contacts covering her amazing eyes and a wig hiding the black silk of her hair, she took his breath. He couldn’t help it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It’d been too long since he’d tasted her. He realized his mistake instantly. One taste wouldn’t be enough. She sighed into his mouth and he hardened instantly. Painfully. His control snapped and he groaned, sliding his fingers into her synthetic wig and angling her head to deepen the kiss. A sharp pain made him jerk away.
Harlow slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
“Harlow, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Not the time or place. I deserved to have my tongue bitten.”
She shook her head, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes.
His stomach twisted. She was hurt, and he’d taken advantage of her. He was a monster. “Harlow, I’m sorry—”
She removed her hand and he realized she was laughing, not crying. Then she opened her mouth and pointed to the dental appliance that had apparently fallen off and stabbed his tongue.
He threw back his head and laughed, pulling her close again.
“I didn’t mean to go all Dracula on you,” she gasped. “When the top set came out, it was reflex to close my mouth to catch it. I didn’t mean to chomp your tongue.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her spine, the humor fading. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re wounded and we need to get food into you to replenish the blood you’ve lost.”
“I do feel a little lightheaded.”
That worked like a bucket of ice on his racing libido and galvanized him into action. He leaned over and picked up his backpack, slipping the straps over his arms. Her next words had him swallowing a groan.
“But not from blood loss…from the kiss.”
He slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for another one, because he couldn’t help himself. When she shuddered—whether from lip contact or the fact she wasn’t wearing a shirt—he reluctantly pulled back. There was a smile on her face, her lips wet and swollen. He considered himself a saint for not dipping back down for another taste. Instead, he slid the backpack down his arm and crouched down to root around inside. “You need a top.”
She glanced down. “Oh, yeah. That would be nice.” Then she swayed again.
He was on his feet in an instant, helping her to sit back down. “It’s too soon for you to be walking.”
“No, I can do it,” she insisted. “I’m not fragile.”
No, she wasn’t fragile. She’d been attacked in a foreign country—stabbed—yet she was still fighting. He studied her. Color had returned to her cheeks, but she looked tired. He’d have to take it easy and not push their escape from the battlefield that was La Grande. He found a black t-shirt and handed it to her.
“It’ll be a dress on you, but it’ll work until we find something else.”
She took the garment from his hands and when she lifted her arms to slide it on, she winced.
“Here, let me.” He eased the shirt over her head, careful not to dislodge the wig, and then threaded her arms through the holes. He’d been right…it engulfed her. She looked like a little girl playing dress up and a crooked smile tipped his lips. She was too busy straightening her wig to notice.
“Okay, I’m ready.” With a hand under her elbow, he eased her to her feet. She wobbled once before steadying. “I can do it,” she insisted.
He grabbed the pack with one hand and slid it over a shoulder, keeping one hand on her. “There’s too much activity to go out the front. We need to see if there’s a back exit.” The space was vast and empty. Light spilled inside from windows high on the walls. He couldn’t imagine what the building had been used for before being abandoned.
The ground shook with another loud boom, this one closer. He felt the concussion shoot up his legs before it knocked him off balance and he tumbled to the ground. At the last second, he reached out and pulled Harlow into his arms as he hit the concrete with a hard thud on his side. She landed with her back to his stomach. Disregarding the fact that the fall had knocked the wind from his lungs, he rolled over and covered her with his body as one wall crumbled, sending rock and debris into the air. When the rumbling faded, he was scrambling to his feet. “We need to get out of here before the roof caves in.” He helped her up and guided her forward, dodging chunks of brick and stone. The crumbled wall had kicked up a cloud of dust, so navigation was difficult. He grabbed a flashlight from his pack to light their path. They didn’t need to be stumbling over unseen obstacles.
“Sawyer, over there.”
Harlow pointed to what looked like a mound of rags piled against the wall. He flashed his light to discover it was a human…or it had been.
“We need to help him, get him out before the building collapses.”
There was no helping the man…if it had been a man. Hard to tell now. He’d been dead for a while, long before the fighting broke out. When Harlow started in that direction, he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Honey, there’s no helping him.”
“But the building…”
“He’s already gone.”
“Are you sure.”
She didn’t need to see that rats had already eaten most of his face. “Positive.”
She sighed and slipped her hand in his. He found a back exit and if his internal compass was correct, it was on the opposite side from where he entered. “Wait here.” The hinges on the wooden door were rusty so it took an effort for the door to open. He slammed his shoulder against it once, twice, feeling it give on the third hit. He eased his head outside. It was an alley. An alarm was blaring that sounded like the tornado warning sirens back home, but the alley was empty. “Let’s go.”
Just as they cleared the doorway, a loud rumble sounded. He scooped Harlow into his arms and darted down the pavement to take refuge behind a row of large brown bins filled with rotting refuge. The building they just departed disintegrated into a pile of rubble, kicking up a huge cloud of gray dust.
Harlow’s face had gone pale. “What if we’d been inside?” she whispered.
He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her gaze to his. “We weren’t. Don’t even think about it. We got out and I’m going to get you home safely.”
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come for me. Sawyer, I’d still be sitting inside—”
He kissed her to stop the next words from leaving her mouth. He didn’t want to think of her buried beneath the wreckage. It caused a pain in his chest that robbed his breath. He would do whatever it took to get her home safely.
He wanted to keep on kissing her, but they needed to get out of the war zone. He was positive that the building they left wouldn’t be the only one that crumbled in the ancient city. He helped her stand and asked, “Are you able to walk?” When she didn’t answer, he glanced over at her and reached out as she fell to her hands and knees. He held her aloft before she could hit the ground. “Harlow!”
“Shh, do you hear that?”
Shh? She was telling him to be quiet when he thought she’d just collapsed? “Hear what?” Automatic gunfire? Yes, he heard it. A pealing siren. Check. The sound of fires raging out of control and tortured screams? God, yes. He’d be hearing those in his nightmares.
“It sounds like a baby crying. It’s coming from beneath one of the dumpsters.”
He crouched down beside her and heard the sound. The whimpers broke his heart. Before he could reach for her, she’d crawled halfway under the container. “I see it.” She spoke softly to whatever she’d found.
“I’ve got you, baby.” She crawled back out with a shivering mass of matted black fur.
“Harlow, be careful, it’s a rat.”
She made a face at him. “It’s not a rat. It’s a puppy. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
The bundle of mutt trembled in her arms, the face covered with ash and concrete dust. He couldn’t tell w
hat breed it was or if it was male or female. “Harlow, we can’t keep the dog. We’re on the run.”
“I am not leaving him.”
Him. That answered one question.
“Look at him. He’s skin and bones. He can’t be more than a couple of weeks old. We need to find some food and water. If we don’t help him, he’ll die.”
“Har—” He snapped his mouth shut at the look on her face. He could argue until the revolution ended, but he wasn’t winning this fight. He didn’t have anything against the mutt…he loved dogs. He’d never actually had one as a pet, but he enjoyed playing with the dogs around the compound. Still, they were on the run, possibly for their lives.
He sighed. “Okay. He can come with us.”
When she flashed a blinding smile at him, he knew he’d climb a ladder to the sky and give her the moon if she asked. He couldn’t deny her anything.
Weak and most likely dehydrated, the puppy wouldn’t be able to keep up with them if they needed to run. He’d have to fashion some kind of body sling to transport him. Harlow didn’t need anything messing with the bandages on her side, so it looked like he’d be on dog babysitting duty.
She slipped a hand into his. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her fingers. “We need to get food into both of you. Come-on.”
He led her down the alley that was littered with rubbish and chunks of several buildings that were crumbling in the wake of the blasts. Daylight had disappeared beneath a thick cloud of black smoke as buildings burned nearby. Ash rained down and the scent of fire was strong, as was the acrid burn of gunpowder. Gunfire echoed in the distance, mingling with terrified screams and the sound of heavy machinery, probably the tanks Grant mentioned, lumbering down the streets.
“You there, Sawyer?”
“Hold on a second,” he told Harlow as he activated his mic again. “Yeah. You two okay?”
“We’re making our way to the airport, but it’s slow going. Looks like they’re bombing all the buildings even remotely tied to the government. Bodies everywhere you turn.”
Damn. He did not want Harlow in the middle of this, nor did he want her to see any of the aftermath. It was the stuff of nightmares. “We’re searching for a place to hunker down. If we lose contact with the comms, keep me updated with the sat phone.”
“Will do.”
“Who was that?”
“Grant Colton.”
“Oh, I remember Grant. Tall, dark, Navy SEAL.”
A stab of jealousy had Sawyer narrowing his eyes. He selfishly didn’t want her remembering any of his coworkers. “He and Wyatt Hollister flew here with me. We split up to search for you.”
“Are they safe?”
“For now. They said it’s mass chaos out there.” He took her arm. “Stay close to the buildings.” He pulled up a mental image of the city in his mind. They needed to head in the other direction, away from the government buildings…or any that remained, he amended. They would have to cross the La Grande river that ran through the city. The area closest to the river was more residential than business. He hoped the forces that were hell-bent on overthrowing the government left the citizens alone. But to get there, they had to cross a large, open area the size of Central Park in New York. This one had much fewer trees, meaning less places to take cover.
This time, he felt the ground rumble in foreboding. He urged Harlow down against the side of a building and covered her and the dog’s bodies with his. When the bomb exploded, it sent shock waves through all his extremities and rattled his teeth. This one was close enough to ring his ears. Then he realized the ground was still shaking…no, not the ground. It was Harlow.
He pushed to his elbows and lifted his weight off Harlow. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will.”
Her trust humbled him. Still…“You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“It’s not me.”
The dog whimpered.
“Oh, hey, little guy, don’t panic. You’re not alone anymore.” He took the trembling puppy from Harlow. He looked like he might be a Lab. “We’ve got you.” Big chocolate eyes wide with fear peered into his and then he let out a doggy sigh, instantly settling down. He butted his head against Sawyer’s chest before nestling in the crook of his arm. Aw, damn, he didn’t want to get too attached to the dog. There was a good chance they’d have to leave him behind if things got dicey.
“He trusts you, too.”
He glanced at Harlow, lying on the ground with her blond wig fanned out around her, her eyes misty. He wanted to press his body to hers, feast on her lips and sink himself deep in her body. He wanted it so much, it was a physical ache. But she was hurt. And they were in the middle of a war.
“Is your cut okay?”
“Yes. The violence…it’s getting closer.”
“Yeah, it is. We need to get out of here.” He helped her to her feet and then took her hand while keeping the dog close to his chest. He didn’t like having both of his hands occupied so he couldn’t grab his SIG if necessary, but he wasn’t letting either go. He led her down the narrow passageway, only to stop short when they neared the street. He urged her to flatten against the wall as an old army green tank rolled by with a man holding an assault rifle positioned in the hatch. He chanced a look to see armed soldiers carrying more military weapons—was that a rocket launcher?—headed their way. Damn.
“In here.” He rattled the knob on an unmarked wooden door and it opened. They made it safely inside before the soldiers spotted them. They were standing in a storage area containing shelves piled high with cleaning supplies. The scents of ammonia and bleach were strong. There were two closed doors, so he tried one. It was pitch black inside. Feeling along the wall, his fingers touched a switch and he flicked it to reveal a set of steps that led down to most likely a basement. Might be a good place to hide out for a while. He carefully opened the other door. It led to the main area of the building and appeared to be a bodega. Bingo. Exactly what they needed.
He crossed the threshold and surveyed the store. The front of the building had been plate glass at one time, before bullets shattered it into thousands of tiny shards. Displays were overturned, littering the aisles with a mixture of food and liquid. The smell hit him first and he didn’t need to see the body…or bodies…to know people had been struck with the spray of bullets.
“A convenience store?” Harlow asked from behind him.
He turned and urged her back to the storage area. She didn’t need to see the dead bodies. She’d already spent the night with one. He handed her the dog…they really needed to come up with a name. “Wait for me back here. I’ll grab supplies.”
“I can help.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got it. Stay here.” Before he went back inside, he engaged the bolt to lock the back entrance to avoid any unwanted surprises. When he entered the shop, he found bags he could load with supplies. He scanned the aisles for food they could eat without cooking…crackers, cereal, more energy bars. He rounded one end and stopped suddenly, bile rising in his throat at the sight of the woman lying in a pool of her own blood, packages of diapers and baby food scattered around her. Somewhere, a child was now motherless.
He forced the lump down his throat and stepped over her. It seemed wrong to leave these people lying dead, but there was nothing he could do to help them now. He picked up a few more supplies and then crossed the aisle. Pet supplies. Perfect. The mutt needed a leash and collar, and lots of kibble to fatten him up. He added a few packages of treats and a squeaky toy…every dog needed a toy.
“Oh my God.”
He turned at the sound, aggravated to see Harlow standing with a hand covering her mouth. Her now-brown eyes wide in horror.
“Harlow, honey, I told you to stay in the back.”
“I-I wanted to help.”
She was trembling again and this time, it wasn’t the dog. He dropped the bag
s and tugged her into his arms.
A sob bubbled up in her throat. “This is a nightmare.”
He rubbed a hand over her back. “I know. We’ll get home safely.” He guided her back to the storage area and eased her to a wooden bench against a wall. She cuddled the dog close while he went back to retrieve the bags. After a few more grabs, he headed back to her.
“What are we going to do?” Her voice sounded bleak and he hated that. He needed her to stay strong.
“I’m going to check out the basement. We may need to stay here for a day or two.” He placed the bags at her feet and tugged out a bunch of bananas, handing her one. “You need to eat.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can after seeing that…”
“You need to replenish your blood supply.” She opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut. He peeled down the sides and handed it to her. He waited until she took a small bite before nodding. “Good girl. Now, will you please stay here this time?”
“Yes.”
He withdrew his SIG and flashlight and eased down the steps. It was cooler as he descended the wooden stairs. He trained his light around the space, the beam reflecting off dozens of bottles of wine lined up on separated shelves. Boxes and crates were stacked against one wall. He could fashion a make-shift hiding space for them. He made sure to check every nook and cranny, but the basement was empty. It would’ve been a good place for the storekeepers to hide if they’d had the chance.
He found a string hanging from an overhead bulb and flicked on the light, illuminating the dingy space. He slid the heavy backpack off his arms and settled it on the ground. When he straightened, he stretched his back and twisted to work out the kinks. Then he raced back up the steps for Harlow and Mutt.
She jumped up as soon as she saw him and he was happy to see the empty banana peel beside her on the bench. “It’s a wine cellar,” he told her. “We can stay here until it’s safe to leave.” He prayed the troops didn’t bomb it, but they had limited options. He grabbed the bags and carried them down the steps, pausing to flip the shoddy lock at the top of the steps. It wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it might slow someone down.
Hunted (COBRA Securities Book 12) Page 8
