by Jenna Kernan
“No fatalities. From what we can tell, most suffered only minor burns and scrapes from the blast.” The forensics expert—Vincent—checked a gash on his forearm, swiping the blood away against his long-sleeve shirt. The muscled, tattooed Hawaiian ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. “Was anyone else in the conference room with you?”
Liz shook her head. “No. Just the two of us.”
“Good. As much as I’d like to scour through debris for evidence of who attacked us, let’s get to the street. Then you tell me who the hell detonated a bomb in my building.” Sullivan turned down the long hallway leading past several now-empty offices, a med clinic and the elevators and stairwell.
“Whoever it was targeted Liz,” Braxton said.
Liz rounded into his vision. “There’s no evidence proving that bomb was meant for me.”
Sullivan twisted around, lips thin, hands ready to tear into the person responsible. “You used to work for the NSA, right? Sold classified intel and disappeared?” The CEO closed the distance between them, expression hard, calculating. “How do I know it wasn’t you who set a bomb in my conference room? Some sick game to get Elizabeth back in your life.”
“I’d kill any one of you before I let something happen to her. Is that a good enough answer for you?” Braxton straightened, surveying Vincent’s position in case the ex-cop made a move, then centered on Sullivan again. “The only thing that matters is this guy is going to keep gunning for her. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Let’s move out.” Sullivan didn’t take his attention off Braxton. “I don’t trust you, Levitt.” Veins pulsed under the skin of the CEO’s arms as he pointed a dirt-smudged finger at him. “If anything happens to her, I will find you, understand?”
“I get that a lot.” Despite the threat, Braxton didn’t take offense. Liz had an entire team watching her back. He couldn’t fault the former Navy SEAL for protecting a member in his unit.
Vincent rounded behind him and Liz to take up the rear with silent obedience.
The sirens grew louder. First responders had arrived on the scene.
But Braxton didn’t move. The bomber hadn’t attacked Blackhawk Security. Not directly. The bastard had had only one target in mind, and he was staring right at her. The bomb was just the beginning. Whoever had set it would try again as soon as they realized Liz had survived. And what better way to ensure a target had been killed than enter the building as an EMT or firefighter for confirmation? Braxton lowered his voice, instincts prickling. There was more at stake now. They had a baby to consider. He shifted closer to her, pain radiating at the base of his skull as they made their way down the hallway, and lowered his voice to prevent the security cameras from picking up their conversation. “Listen to me, Liz. We can’t go to the street.”
“Wow, you do remember my name.” Liz moved to follow her colleagues.
He threaded his fingers around her arm and pulled her to a stop, holding her against him. The small fires burning around them had nothing on her body heat tunneling through his clothing right then. He covered his mouth and nose in the crook of his arm. “The garage. The only way in is with a key card, right? One exit? He’ll expect us down on the street with the others. Not exiting the garage.”
“What are you talking about?” She wrenched away from him as though his touch had burned her, his fingertips tingling from the friction against her jacket. Those dark brown eyes locked on him. One second. Two. Wisps of her uneven exhales tickled the oversensitized skin along his neck as she turned on him. “You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”
Damn her stubbornness. One day it was going to get her killed. And then where would he be? He couldn’t find the bastard hunting her down without her. No matter how many times he’d tried to keep his distance, every road, every move to stay off the Feds’ radar had led him to Anchorage...to her. He didn’t care that her program might’ve already recognized him and reported his location to the NSA. He wasn’t going to leave her unprotected again.
The floor rumbled underneath his feet. The explosion had most likely damaged the building’s structure. They didn’t have a whole lot of time.
“We need to get moving.” Vincent stepped toward them as Blackhawk Security’s CEO disappeared into a cloud of smoke toward the stairwell. Close enough for Braxton to reach out and touch him.
He didn’t want to have to do this, but the hard determination in Liz’s gaze said he didn’t have any other choice. “All right. If you’re not going to come with me willingly—” Braxton spun, wrapping his grip around the Sig Sauer in Vincent’s shoulder holster, and twisted the weapon out of the cop’s reach. With one hard swing of the butt of the gun to the operative’s head, Vincent went down. Hard. Braxton hefted the gun up, attention leveled on the shocked woman in front of him.
Liz lunged for the unconscious operative. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m kidnapping you. Once the bomber realizes you’re not dead, we lose the upper hand.” He pointed to her jacket with the barrel of the gun. “Toss your sidearm. Please.”
“Do you honestly expect me to leave him here?” Digging beneath the leather, she tossed her handgun to the floor.
“Of course not. Rescue is already on the way.” He kicked the weapon out of her reach and motioned her to her feet. “Head for the garage.”
“You should shoot me now, because I’m sure as hell going to shoot you when I get the chance.” She rose slowly, expression controlled, voice dropping into dangerous territory. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed on him. Exhaustion—maybe a bit of pain from the blast—broke through her movements as she stepped around the unconscious forensics expert at her feet.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” The muscles in Braxton’s arms and neck tensed. In the thousands of times he’d imagined this moment, this wasn’t how he’d expected their reunion to turn out. But there was a killer on the loose, and he wasn’t about to lose her again. Not Liz. And not their baby. She shifted in front of him. Every second she stayed out in the open notched his blood pressure higher. “I’m trying to save your life, damn it. Trust me.”
“Stop asking me to trust you.” Liz headed for the stairwell, fire reflecting in her dark gaze. “I’m still trying to get over the last time you betrayed me.”
Copyright © 2019 by Natascha Jaffa
ISBN-13: 9781488046193
Warning Shot
Copyright © 2019 by Jeannette H. Monaco
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