Unexpected Danger (Skyline Trilogy Book 2)

by Willow Summers

  Chapter Nine

  Jenna blinked her eyes open the next morning and rolled onto her back to stretch. Yawning, she slipped into some jeans and a top and crawled out of the tent. Chirping birds and glorious sunshine greeted her, as usual. What was unusual was the cleared campsite and a stoic Josh waiting for her.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Morning.”

  “Is, uh, everything okay?”

  “I have a bad feeling about today. I want to get to the Eagle’s Nest as soon as possible. How are your feet?”

  “They’re okay. What’s the Eagle’s Nest?”

  “My father’s lake house.”

  “Oh. What makes you think something is wrong? It would be hard to find us, wouldn’t it?”

  “It should be, but not impossible.” He motioned in front of him at the breakfast waiting for her, telling her to get a move on. “Last night I heard an echo that sounded like a motor vehicle. Dirt bike or quad. All they have to do is find our trail and a half-decent tracker can probably find us. I can take them out on my own, but I’m not going to leave you. I need you stashed safely in the Eagle’s Nest, and then I’ll find him.”

  “Don’t do anything…rash, okay? You don’t need to get involved in this. You are already helping me; you don’t need—”

  Josh gave her a stare that said, “Shut up.”

  “I know, I know,” she muttered while sitting down to her breakfast. “You don’t like to repeat yourself. “

  “You’re learning.”

  “No, I’m just tired of arguing with a headstrong jackass.”

  “Like I said, you’re learning.”

  He packed up the tent as she ate. When finished eating, she slipped on her boots. A twinge of discomfort had her pausing, but they didn’t get any worse. They were finally yielding to her feet. She would win over the damned things, like it or not.

  Josh pushed through the brush and then kept on at a breakneck pace. Over his shoulder he said, “If your feet hurt or I go too fast, let me know. I won’t gloat.”

  “What if you do?”

  “I’ll let you do horrible things to me.”

  “Like teach you to quilt?”

  “That would certainly count as a horrible thing.”

  “Obviously you’ve never seen a lovely quilt…”

  Her feet did start to hurt, but nothing like before, so she pressed on. At lunchtime Josh slowed long enough to hand her a protein bar and ask about her feet.

  “They’re okay.” It was even mostly true.

  A few hours later, the sun was sinking toward the horizon when Josh stopped at a stream. Without a word, he bent and scooped up some water before splashing it on his face. Dripping, he stared off in the direction they were going.

  “Should I fill up my water bottle?” Jenna asked, ready to strip off her pack and fish out the iodine tablets to cleanse the water.

  “Jenna…” He blew out a breath and looked back the way they’d come.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to… Do you have…?”

  “Finish a sentence, please.”

  He shook his head and took a step sideways for no discernable reason. She’d never seen him look this antsy. “I feel like we are walking into danger. I want to go in the other direction. I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  “Go with your gut. We’re on our feet—our lifesavers—and you say you can survive in the woods, so let’s do that.”

  “Yes, but…” He scoffed in indecision, looking out through the trees with his hands on his hips.

  “Look, why don’t you go check things out, or whatever you’re itching to do, and I’ll hang out here until you get back. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

  Josh stared at her with equal parts warning and skepticism.

  “I totally promise, Josh.” She raised her hands. “I swear I won’t go anywhere, or do anything stupid, or go check things out for myself. I’ll stay in the trees wherever you put me, okay? I have my gun and I’ll take the safety off and you can give me a bird call when you come back so I know not to shoot you.”

  His stare beat into her, his eyes calculating. He nodded slowly. “You will stay exactly where I put you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You will not choose this time to flaunt authority.”

  “No.”

  “You know that if you do something stupid and it results in your death, I will probably go insane.”

  “More insane, you mean?”

  “Jenna,” he said darkly.

  “Sorry, yes. I understand.”

  After a tense beat, Josh walked toward the brush, looking at the ground and then glancing all around. When he found a place he liked, he led her there by the hand, and then physically placed her exactly where he wanted her, like a dog burying a bone.

  He put a finger in her face. “Stand or sit, whatever you want, but do not move.”

  Jenna glanced around, flinching when a leaf brushed her eye. “Okay.”

  He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Her eyes fluttered and her stomach did somersaults. Her body melted against his, responding to his strength and power.

  He backed up enough to stare down into her eyes. “Be safe. If the worst should happen, shoot to kill. Clear?”

  “Yes. Please be careful.”

  “Safety off. Right now.” Josh took a step back.

  “Oh. Yup. Okay.” She flicked the safety off. Lowering the gun to her side, but pointed away from her toes, just in case, she took a deep breath.

  “Wait for me to come get you. See you soon.”

  Jenna watched him go until he melted into the trees and disappeared.

  Josh took off at an easy jog, scanning the ground for any signs of disturbance. Less than a hundred yards in the direction of his father’s house, he found what he’d feared: fresh tire tracks.

  He bent to one knee for a closer look.

  Two tracks, medium-sized tires. A quad, probably. It led toward a wide but shallow stream that wound through this area. The tracks didn’t pop out the other side.

  Whoever it was didn’t want his tracks followed. As animals don’t look for tire marks, it wasn’t a hunter. It also wasn’t a ranger or hiker. That left their man.

  He was looking for them, and he’d started at Josh’s dad’s house.

  Smart.

  Josh crossed the stream and began looking for the other side of the trail.

  Chapter Ten

  Jenna turned a leaf end over end and looked longingly at the water. It would feel so good to dunk her feet in the stream. They felt loads better, but that cool water would sooth the aching blisters that hadn’t started to heal over.

  She glanced around the clear area behind her stronghold of trees.

  No one was going to find her. With all the open area between the house they’d left, and the one they were going to, a random guy wasn’t going to track them down. Her footprints couldn’t have been that obvious.

  The water glimmered as it flowed by, winking at her from a hundred different points.

  She blew out her breath and hunched a little further. She’d promised, so she’d stay.

  Time ticked by at the speed of a snail. Her back stiffened, begging for movement. There really was no reason to stand—she had no idea how long Josh would take.

  Trying not to crinkle any leaves or set branches to dancing, she peered down between her feet, and slowly looked over her shoulder. After rolling a rock out of the way, she inched backward and started to hunch down.

  Footsteps sounded out in the direction Josh had gone.

  She braced against the tree to stand back up. Wasn’t that always the way of it? Make one decision and the dude comes in and shoots it to hell. Now she’d have to keep walking on tired legs. She was happy he was back, though. She was bored to tears. And horny. She wondered if maybe she could get him to drop his pants.

  She listened for a bird call, didn’t hear one, but still contemplated stepping out to meet him. If he
got into sight and saw her out of her tree, though, he would never believe she’d been good the whole time. The guy had no faith. If she was going to get in trouble for not following orders, she wanted it to be worth it.

  Preventing herself from shifting side to side, she felt the familiar danger alarm scratch her between the shoulder blades.

  Josh must be on stalker mode. That meant she definitely didn’t want to jump out of the trees like a common boogeyman. That would surely get her a knife in the ribs. Or a bullet in the eye.

  She opened her mouth to do her own gloating as his body walked out from behind a large elm—

  A surge of fear had her freezing.

  It wasn’t Josh!

  An urge told her to move further into the trees. To try and cover herself better. But movement would draw the man’s eye. Friend or foe, she didn’t want to be noticed.

  Her chest fluttered with fear and adrenaline. Her heart rammed against her ribcage. Steadying her breath, she tightened her grip on her gun, studying the man. Maybe it was a hiker, or a guide from one of the tours.

  But as he came closer, and his appearance solidified, hope dwindled. His face, pockmarked and scarred, suggested heavy drug use. Meth addicts often picked holes in their faces. He had loose pants cinched around his small waist, his arms were bony, and he held a hunting rifle with a big scope.

  Panic harried her breath. If felt like someone was sitting on her chest.

  The man stopped where Josh had been standing however long ago, before glancing off in the direction Josh had gone. He could track.

  Please follow that trail. Please follow Josh.

  The man looked back down, pulling his gun a little closer into his chest. He started forward slowly before slightly turning, now on her and Josh’s tracks to her hiding place. His gaze followed her footsteps…to her feet. In jerks, it climbed her body to her face.

  Hello, gunman.

  Muddy blue and deathly calm eyes connected with her, staring out of a drug-hollowed, skeletal face. He was deep in the pocket of addiction. Nothing would matter more than his next score.

  She suspected that taking her out would open the door to a plentiful supply. Missing her would get him none. They were competing against each other for survival.

  Him or me.

  A sickly grin crept up his face, something Dale couldn’t have replicated on his sleaziest day. The itch telling her danger was near turned into a body tremor, screaming at her to run. Fast. Now!

  Legs shaking, she didn’t move. She turned down the feeling of panic and tried to center herself. He could kill. So could she.

  She stepped out of the trees with her bitch face on, angling in a way that hid her gun at her side. He wouldn’t think she was armed, or his gun would’ve been up. She was helpless in his eyes. She needed to stay that way until the last moment.

  “The big man left you all alone, huh?” he asked in a scratchy, burned-out voice. “Went to look for me, did he? Ah, but I was already looking for you. He doesn’t leave much in the way of tracks, but you, darlin’, oh now, you leave plenty.”

  “Who hired you?” She raised her chin to override the tiny tremble in her voice.

  His grin showed browned teeth. “What’s it to you?”

  “Just curious. It’s a little strange for a gunman to chase down an architect in the woods.”

  “The architect, girlie. Your pretty face is all over New York, did you know? Pretty soon it will be all over the papers.”

  “That right?”

  “Oh yes. I was going for the long shot, but I’m working with new hardware. I’m used to handguns. But I’m getting the hang of it. Although seeing you—you are a sweet thing.” He took a few steps closer, admiring her body. “I might just stick it deep and cut the life out of you while I’m coming. I hear your insides dig deep when you’re suffocating. I haven’t had that before. Might be nice.”

  Chills crept through her body, threatening to derail her. He took a step closer, and despite trying to stand her ground, she took a step away. Sweat stood out on her body. Her hand on the gun shook. The last time she’d shot someone—the only time—she was young and stupid and doped up. Now she was old enough to know what this all meant. Now she knew about consequences. And she was sober. Oh-so-fucking sober.

  Damn it, Jenna. Get it together. Stay strong, girl. You can do this. He’s not as deadly as Josh, and you stood up to Josh. He’s just gross. You can do gross. You can kill gross. Him or me!

  She breathed. Most important to keep breathing. Brain needed oxygen.

  “Are you the type to run? I’m thinking you want to,” he said softly. “I would hate to shoot you in the back. It wouldn’t be as good if you were already dead. I’ll still stick it in, though. Your lover boy will sure hate that.”

  “I won’t be running, you sick fuck,” she spat. She willed anger. Anger helped the brain focus. She was good at anger.

  Breathe.

  He took a step closer, clearly wondering if she would spook. His gun was still low, which was his saving grace, so far. And hers. She was working on the courage to kill him. It was a big deal. Irreversible. But she had the best defense lawyer in the country for a father. They might hate each other, but they were blood. A prominent woman against a sleazebag who’d already killed—no contest. Her dad would do it just for the publicity.

  You hesitate, you die. That was what Josh had said.

  “Usually the victims beg for their lives about now. You have some fight in you. Why don’t you run?”

  “Because fuck you, that’s why.”

  “Oh dear, you’re an angry one. They said you were. Guess what, pretty lady? I have a gun. And a knife. And a dick. I think I’ll at least use the dick. What do you say?”

  He put down the gun slowly. He wanted to capture her alive. He thought he was fast enough to catch her, and strong enough to overpower her. And with another woman, that was probably true.

  But she was no victim.

  Never underestimate your opponent. Josh had also said that when he was training her. Use their overconfidence against them.

  His smile spread across his face. He took a step toward her, really slowly, and then his muscles tensed. He was planning to spring forward and sprint, she could see it.

  She swung up the gun, aiming at his chest, exhaling. Determination took over.

  He froze, shock smacking into his face.

  This was the woman people saw when they’d threatened her in her youth. This was the woman who was walking out of here with her life.

  “What’s the matter? Thought I was defenseless?” she asked with a gruff voice.

  He put his hands out. “Oh now, honey, you don’t want to do that.” His eyes flicked to the ground. He regretted dropping his weapon. Too late. “It takes a hardened criminal to kill in cold blood.” His eyes flicked to his gun again, and then to hers.

  “Here’s the thing, smart guy,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice, it was so cold and hard. “I don’t die today. And I sure as fuck don’t get raped today. But someone dies. You think they’ll miss you? They won’t. They won’t miss you, and they won’t find you. Any last words?”

  “Like I said,” he said quietly, “it takes a hardened criminal to shoot someone in cold blood. I don’t think you got it in ya.” He braced to spring.

  Chapter Eleven

  Josh was jogging up to Jenna’s location when he heard the crackly voice of a man.

  Oh God, Jenna!

  Fear shot through him like a live wire, frying logic. He’d never known this type of fear before. Not in the heat of gunfire, not even when his team was being cut down by enemy fire. This was the fear of your most precious treasure being in danger.

  He sped up before he brought himself under control, returning to training. Screwing this up might get her killed.

  He focused as he dashed through the trees, staying out of sight as he closed in on the scene. He came up behind and slightly to the left of a man of average height wearing a black jumpsuit. The
man’s gun lay flat on the ground a few steps from his feet.

  Josh had his gun in his hand, but there was a chance Jenna would hear the gunshot, get spooked, and start firing blindly. It would derail the situation, especially if she missed.

  Especially if she hit him.

  “I don’t think you got it in ya.” The man sprang, straight for her.

  Without thinking, Josh ripped out his knives, hoping to God he wasn’t too late.

  The world burst into color. Jenna’s finger pulled back by itself. And then again. Reacting.

  The man hurled at her, arms out, reaching.

  She took a quick step back and fired again, and again, the jolt of the gun clattering her teeth.

  He flailed and his scream turned into a horrible gargling sound. Rushing filled her ears as the world spun and blotches of red bloomed all over his torso.

  He staggered and fell before clumping in a heap on the ground. A mess of body parts and clothes and awkward angles.

  A sob ripped from her throat, her vision going red and black, her knees suddenly weak. Her heart was booming so loud she could scarcely hear anything over it. She wanted to drop the gun, to throw it, but what if someone else came? She couldn’t be defenseless.

  She stood over the man whose life she had taken, blood welling around her boots. The boots that had nearly torn her feet in half were stained with blood. The blood from someone she had killed.

  I killed someone.

  Panic clutched her as she stared down at the man lying facedown. The gun started to fall from her hand as the tears welled into her eyes. Sucking in a sob, she clutched it harder. She wasn’t in good shape. She was cold, she was dazed—shock. She had to be in shock.

  But she had just killed someone. She needed to bury the body.

  Struggling to grip the fleeting control, she wiped her face and looked around her, not really seeing. Not able to deal with this.

  “It was necessary,” she murmured, inching away. Blood welled around the soles of her boots.

  An image of a blood-soaked ballet slipper flashed through her mind. Of a dirty man with shock on his face and a hole in his chest. And the body at her feet, facedown in the dirt.