by Kris Norris
“The bastard didn’t give me much of a choice. And, frankly, I’m not too proud to say he probably has a better chance without having to worry about us getting in his way. Though, I will have a chat with him, later.” He held up two fingers. “You seeing double, again?”
She batted his hand away. “I’m fine. What’s the plan?”
“We’re gonna procure a motorcycle and hope to hell we get out of here before Slader blows everything up. Gibson said there’s a predator on the way.”
“Shit.”
“No kidding. You good?”
“Didn’t I just say I’m fine?”
“Good, because we’re also gonna have a chat when this is done. But, for now, stick to my ass, and feel free to shoot anything that moves.”
She muttered something under her breath, shadowing his every step as he climbed a couple of boxes to the closest window. She kept her focus behind them, glancing his way every so often as he slid aside the locking mechanism, then slowly opened the window. Two tangoes at his nine o’clock. Quick-stepping toward the far corner. Rifles notched into their shoulders, their damn heads on a swivel.
Crow managed to duck inside before they looked his way. Used the blade of his knife to track their progression without giving away his location. The men reached the edge of the building then stopped, each covering a different direction. Which put a big fucking wrench in their operation.
“Well?” Devlyn nudged his thigh. “What do you see?”
“Complications. Two of them at the far-left corner. We’re gonna need a distraction or they’ll be on us before I can get off a shot. And that’s with me shooting while I’m jumping.”
“The office was on that side. I could run up, toss something out of the window, then come back. That should give you enough time to slip out—eliminate them if needed.”
Christ. Was she trying to kill him? Because just thinking about her in the warehouse—alone, with a damn drone on the way, no less—made his heart tap triple time. Something that didn’t even happen during a firefight. And, he knew, he was in way too deep to ever get out.
“We’ll try another exit. I can—”
An explosion. Knocking him off the boxes onto his ass. Rattling the glass. Shaking months of dust free and swirling it in the air. Shouts rose up above the echoing rumble, the scent of smoke quickly filling the air. Crow rolled to his feet, bodily lifting Devlyn up.
She braced her weight on his arm for a moment, blinking as she looked around the warehouse. “Crap, was that the drone?”
“So much for Gibson’s theory about them targeting the sniper, first. That was right outside.”
“Oh, god. Gibson.” She tugged against his hold.
“I know, but...” Crow held firm, dragging her a bit closer. “We’ve got maybe a minute before that drone circles around for another shot. We gotta get out of here. I’m sure he’s clear. Guy’s hardcore.”
“We can’t—”
“Help him if we’re dead. Let’s get clear, then I can come back for him. Not leaving him behind, sweetheart. Just making sure you’re safe, first. He didn’t go out there, alone, just to have us ruin all he’s doing by being stupid. Same plan. Stay close.”
Crow released her then climbed up, again. He checked the area, not that they had many options. He was going out one way or another. One of the men had left, the other still guarding the rear. Still scanning each direction. Crow waited until the guy looked up the alley before rolling out. He took the shot as he landed, catching the guy in the arm—knocking him sideways. The man recovered, only to drop as Crow’s next shot hit home.
Devlyn landed beside him, eyeing the downed man before running with Crow to the opposite corner. Crow only paused for a second before dashing across the alley, shaking his head when one of Slader’s men crumpled after turning to face them. A moment before Crow could even get off a shot.
Christ, whoever was behind the scope was better than skilled. The guy was inhuman. Might actually be the best in the world because Crow wasn’t sure even Phoenix could hit targets at that distance. And the kid was the most skilled marksman Crow had ever seen.
Another reason to get the hell out of there. No doubt the sniper knew Slader would use the drone against his position. Which made Crow wonder why the guy hadn’t bugged out, yet. Why he was still downing targets.
Questions for later. If they were still breathing.
They reached the bike—older model with a kick start. Five seconds, and he had the ignition wires exposed, was stripping them. Two more, and he’d bridged the connections, heard the motor hum with power. A couple cycles of the pedal, and the engine sparked to life. Was vibrating between his legs.
Devlyn slipped on behind him, wrapping her hands around his ribs. He’d get her clear then circle back. Search for Gibson. It might not end well, but Delta didn’t trade lives, and they didn’t leave brothers behind. The tires squealed as he spun the motorcycle around, headed north. Whatever road, alley or trail got him away from the warehouse the fastest. Would keep Devlyn safe.
He got twenty feet away when a hum sounded overhead. The soft whoosh of an incoming missile. There was just enough time to gun it—cut in behind a parked truck before everything exploded. Glass. Metal. Wood. All shooting out across the road. The sheer force of the hit nearly toppling the bike. If he hadn’t managed to kick the back out—put it into a controlled half-slide—they’d have been down. Skipping across the pavement.
Instead, he skidded to a halt, quickly checking Devlyn before glancing over his shoulder. Staring into the smoking rubble that had been the warehouse. Only pieces of one wall left standing amidst the debris. If they had been a few minutes slower…
Echoed gunfire had him moving. Revving the engine then racing off. Another explosion sounded in the distance. Had to be where the sniper had been nesting. No other reason to target an area so far removed from the fight. He just hoped whoever was behind the scope had gotten away. Even if he hadn’t been on Crow’s side, it didn’t alter the fact Crow was still breathing because of the guy.
An issue he could analyze later.
Crow wove through the adjoining streets, keeping an eye on his six, as well as overhead. He didn’t want to chance driving too far with Slader’s damn drone in the air, but he couldn’t risk stopping too soon, either. But finding somewhere safe wasn’t going to be easy. Who knew what tech the predator had onboard. If the buildings around here were insulated enough to block thermal readings. Or if Slader might track them on CCTV feeds. He needed to get off-grid.
Or a place even Slader wouldn’t chance destroying.
Crow pulled into a café parking lot across from a police station. It wasn’t perfect, but good enough to drop Devlyn off—allow him to go back for Gibson. And, if Crow didn’t make it back, Dev could go into the precinct—flash her badge. Get some protection until her boss could figure things out. Hell, she could call Cannon and have the entire crew onsite in record time. Either way, she’d be okay.
Devlyn grabbed his arm when he slowed to a halt. “This is your idea of a safe haven?”
“It’s just temporary. And it should be safe enough for you until I come back with Gibson.”
“No way. I’m not hiding while you take all the chances.”
“I can only fit one other person on this bike. And I’m not putting you back into Slader’s crosshairs, especially with that damn drone in the mix. Bitch all you want, but...”
His phone chirped.
He held up one finger, slipping the cell out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen—saw the text. An address with the words, “I’m clear. Get your arse moving!” after.
He chuckled.
“What?” Devlyn tried to look at the screen over his shoulder. “What’s so damn funny?”
He held up the phone—showed her the message.
“Gibson?”
“I swear that Brit’s got nine lives. Not that I’m complaining. Wasn’t looking forward to dodging bullets and missiles while searching for his as
s. Hang on. We can’t risk being out here longer than necessary.”
Crow cleared the street then took off. He blew through the intersection, traveled a few blocks then headed for a park. His headlight lit up the encroaching darkness as he hopped the curb and took one of the paths to his right. It wove through a heavy stand of trees, finally spitting them out several blocks over. He kept to the alleys, cutting through a couple of warehouses and several parking lots before pulling over in a lane way across from a garage—what looked like a possible loft upstairs.
Devlyn leaned over his shoulder. “That’s the address.”
“Only Gibson would have a safehouse in this part of town. We’ll be lucky if we don’t get caught in a damn gang shootout. I should be able to get us inside the garage, but I don’t have the codes for the safehouse upstairs. And, knowing Gib, he’s got retina scans and voice recognition safety measures.”
“You didn’t seem to have any trouble bypassing security at the NSA building a few months ago.”
No missing her tone. That she was still pissed.
He sighed. “Technically, I was the muscle. Kam did all the hacking, and Six… Well, the guy has a unique ability. Makes him pretty unstoppable. He’s the one who got us out. And I already said I’m sorry. Hold on.”
Crow scanned the area then headed for the garage. Devlyn stood watch while he picked the locks—bypassed the security, silently thanking Gibson for not making this section above his skillset. Hard enough the average person wouldn’t get through but not hacker-level tough.
Devlyn held the door while Crow wheeled the bike inside, securing the locks behind him. He parked the vehicle off to one side, then ushered Devlyn over to the far end of the room—the one position he could defend in case Slader came after them. He placed some cushions on the floor, then waited until she finally sat her ass down. Damn, the girl was stubborn.
She was still muttering under her breath as he walked over to the windows—scanned the area. Nothing but empty streets filled his view, the pavement lit by only the reflection of the sliver of moon.
“Well?”
He dragged his gaze away from the window, catching hers for a moment before looking back out. “Nothing.”
“There aren’t any streetlights. Not working, anyway. So, unless unless you’ve got night vision goggles in your pocket or thermal vision, you won’t see anything until it’s on top of us.”
He sighed. “You don’t have to remind me of my shortcomings. Or that I let you down. Again.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But, it’s true. We were hilariously outmatched. I should have seen that coming.” He took another look then moved over to her. “How’re your ribs? Is the vest making it hard to breathe?”
She grabbed his hand when he thumbed the bottom. “I’m fine. Just…keep watch.”
“You’re not fine, and keeping watch won’t mean shit if you’re bleeding internally or can’t breathe from a collapsed lung. It won’t take long to check.”
Dev huffed. “You’re the one who has a bullet wound on his arm and shards of glass in his leg, I’m… Shit.”
She clenched her jaw as he released the straps and eased the vest over her head, gently lifting her shirt. Multicolored bruises glared back at him, a smear of blood staining her skin where the impact had broken the surface.
“Fuck.” Crow used the bottom of his shirt to gently dab off the blood. “That’s gonna be sore for a while. But, at least, the bullet didn’t go through.”
Devlyn closed her eyes, swallowing what sounded like a whimper. “Yeah. The bruising’s a real ray of sunshine.”
He made eye contact. “Having a hunk of lead lodged inside you? Definitely worse. Especially since it probably would have killed you on the spot.” He cursed under his breath when her breath hitched and her eyes rolled slightly as she took a breath. “You never should have done that.”
She blinked, focusing on his face. “Done what?”
“Seriously, Dev?”
She chuckled, the sound morphing into a grunt. “So, I was just supposed to let Slader’s men kill you? Stay inside that warehouse while you bled out?”
“You could have—”
“What, Ryker? Reasoned with him? Talked him down? Or maybe you think I could have ninjaed my way through his men and taken them all out with my superior skills.”
“Nearly getting yourself killed…” He shook his head. “You’re damned lucky to be alive.”
She laughed, again. “I wasn’t the one who tried to run through the entire squad. Talk about lucky…”
“Still breathing, sweetheart.”
She glared at him. “And bleeding. You need to take care of your arm. Your leg. Not to mention your ribs are probably ten times worse than mine.”
He smiled, enjoying the way her gaze followed the uplift of his mouth. Damn, but the girl was dangerous. Two weeks together, and he felt as if he’d stepped backwards in time—as if he hadn’t screwed everything up by leaving. Not that she’d listened to him, yet. But being around her—it was like a slap in the face to everything he’d had and let go.
He huffed. He hadn’t done it by choice, at least, not initially. Not that it mattered. The outcome had been the same—he’d lost the other half of himself. The one woman he’d ever love.
He tucked some hair behind her ear. “Thank you. Pretty sure you saved my life back there.”
Her eyes widened, creases marring her brow before she shrugged. “Don’t get all sentimental on me. I’d just rather have the pleasure of shooting you, myself.”
“I thought you wanted to stick a knife through my…how did you phrase it?” He grinned. “Right. Cold withered heart.”
Her lips quirked, and his damn stomach flip-flopped. “I’m not above adapting, again. Besides, I owed you because you were right.”
“That’s a rarity according to you. What miraculous event did I correctly predict this time?”
“You don’t have to be an ass about it.”
He chuckled. “I think we both know I did. Well?”
She sighed, grimacing after trying to take another deep breath, and he wanted to kill the fucker who’d shot her all over, again. It didn’t matter that the vest had stopped it. Seeing the bruising… It hurt. More than he’d ever imagined.
Devlyn palmed her side, rearranging how she was sitting before huffing out a breath. “The ambush. I’m not sure if you heard Slader or not, but he thanked me for deciphering his invitation. Looks like this might not be about that list, after all, but is simply Slader tying up loose ends. Just like you said.”
“We can worry about that later. For now…” He leaned in, thumbed her cheek while staring into the deep blue of her eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
Her expression softened. “Ryker.”
God, he loved hearing her say his name. Twice in this short exchange.
He silenced her with a gentle finger over her lips, the soft play of skin only ratcheting up the uneasy roiling sensation in his gut. “Don’t. For just one minute can you stop being mad at me, and let me look at you? Hold you?”
She furrowed her brow, her chin quivering for a moment before she visibly surrendered. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”
“You really are a piece of work, Dev.”
He turned, scooting in beside her. She snapped her gaze back to him as he eased his arm around her, tucking her against his side, her head notched into his shoulder.
She swallowed noisily. “What—”
“Shut up, Dev.”
Her breath hitched, and she stayed firm against him for several heartbeats before melting against his side. Her breath feathered across his neck, the subtle caress easing the frantic beating of his heart. At least, for now, she was safe. Hurt, but safe.
Her hand landed on his ribs, staying clear of where he’d been hit. “Fine. A truce. But just for tonight.”
He smiled against her hair, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “A one-off.”
S
he took a few shuddering breaths, glancing up at him. “If we’re really having a truce, then I want you to do one more thing for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Lie and tell me everything’s going to be all right.”
He took her hand in his, pulling her closer. “Everything’s going to be all right. Promise.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Close your eyes. Rest while we’re waiting for Gibson. You can go back to fantasizing about killing me in the morning.”
She hummed, snuggling against him. A soft sigh warmed his skin. “Or, maybe, I’d rather just kiss you.”
He stilled. Had he really just heard her say she wanted to kiss him? He forced in a calming breath. “Devlyn?” He looked down at her when she didn’t answer, snorting at the contented look on her face as she slept against him. “Figures. Never could catch a break, could we, sweetheart? Sleep, because sooner or later, you’re going to listen, and I’m not going to stop until you’re mine. And, this time, nothing will get between us.”
Chapter Eleven
Devlyn paced the length of the room, hands fisted at her sides, heat simmering beneath her skin. She did her best to stem the frustration burning hot in her stomach—whether directed toward herself or Crow, she wasn’t sure—but each breath only reminded her of how close she’d come to losing him. And not just from her life. Permanently. That he’d fully expected to die the other night. Had been willing to sacrifice everything just so she could live.
He hadn’t come out and said that. Not when Ice had been keeping a close watch on both of them. Rarely leaving them alone as he continually examined their ribs for any hint that their health was worsening. Checking to see if Crow was dizzy or nauseous from the blood loss he’d suffered from his injuries. And, by the looks of things, Ice wasn’t letting up anytime soon. Not after having Gibson nearly die on him.
The Brit had shown up an hour after she and Crow had arrived at the garage, waking her from a weird sleep. One in which she’d told Crow she wanted to kiss him. Crow had caught the guy as he’d stumbled through the door, his damn shirt soaked with blood. Gibson had stayed conscious long enough to gain them access to the loft before collapsing. Crow had called Ice and had managed to slow the bleeding until his buddy had arrived, Cannon’s entire crew in tow. After that…
