She blew out a shaky breath.“Promise?”
“I promise.”
The fear in her eyes said she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say it out loud.Lips pressed, she gave a curt nod and reached for the ceiling handle.
Navarre cut the wheel hard to the right and took them off the road.The SUV bounced like a bucking bronco, barreling through the dense vegetation.Branches slapped the vehicle from multiple angles, cracking the windshield and tearing off the remaining side-view mirror.He barely avoided hitting a tree, but momentum sent the back end slamming against another.The car spun several times, and by some miracle, they managed not to flip over.
Somewhere along the line, the airbags had deployed.Dazed and disoriented, Navarre unfastened his seat belt and stumbled from the vehicle.Fuck, his neck hurt—not surprising, considering what they just went through.He heard the sound of another door opening and caught a glimpse of Sloane streaking into the forest.From what he could tell, she appeared unharmed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Now it was his responsibility to ensure she stayed that way.
The smell of gasoline fouled the air as the last of their fuel formed a puddle on the forest floor.Navarre shook his head to clear the fog as he pried the back door open, thankful he’d been paranoid enough to pack a bag of emergency provisions.It wasn’t standard procedure for these types of assignments, but then again, nothing about this assignment was standard.
Using the front of the SUV for cover, he drew his pistol, the cold steel a familiar weight in his hand.He aimed at the first of the vehicles that drove along the path he’d carved moments ago.Years of training clicked into place, his pulse slowing, senses sharpening to the point of hyperawareness.One by one, he blocked off his emotions, until the only thing left in his mind was ice-cold determination.His vision narrowed until he only saw his target.On the next exhale, he pressed the trigger, and the bullet pierced the SUV’s windshield and tore into the driver.
Good thing their vehicles weren’t armored.
The passenger door flew open and the remaining person dove for cover in the dense vegetation.With the driver dead, the SUV veered to the right, eventually coming to rest against the huge tree Navarre had narrowly missed.The vehicles behind it had stopped as well, but in a more controlled manner behind a thick stand of oaks.
Navarre fired three more rounds, and then took the opportunity to change position, moving back from the vehicle and taking a defensive stance behind a copse of pines.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” a raspy masculine voice called out.“Just give us the woman, and you can walk out of here alive.”
Yeah, right.Did they honestly think he’d buy that load of bullshit?As far as lies went, it ranked right up there with “the dog ate my homework,” “I didn’t know I was speeding, Officer,” and “I swear, just the tip.”
Stock-still, he scanned his surroundings, searching for the next target to kill.There, to his left, he spotted a man in dark clothes and a baseball cap creeping toward the armored vehicle, a pistol in his grip.Taking careful aim, he fired a shot and heard a pained grunt as the figure dropped out of sight.
The other side responded with an immediate barrage of gunfire that tore chunks out of the pines that Navarre was using for cover.Head down, he dropped to a crouch and checked his gun to see how much ammo was left in the magazine.Not much.Not good.He had three more loaded magazines in his bag, but it wouldn’t take long to burn through them.
He was outnumbered, outgunned, and he needed to find Sloane before any of these assholes got the chance.He laid out a spray of gunfire, emptying the magazine, and then quickly reloaded before escaping into the forest.
Chapter 10
Sloaneranlikeafox hunted by hounds, her lungs burning, legs aching, barely aware of the scrapes of branches against her face and neck.She skidded down a steep rocky slope, tearing one knee of her pants when she stumbled, too terrified to register the pain in her mind.She almost stopped a time or two, but the sound of gunfire had a way of pushing her beyond the limits of exhaustion.
She finally stopped in a small clearing when she couldn’t breathe any longer.Bent at the waist, her whole body shaking, she sucked in huge gulps of chilled air and berated herself for not going to the gym more often.
So much for a nice relaxing weekend in Sierra’s mountain retreat, eating good food, wearing stylish clothes, and enjoying a slice of the good life.Now she’d just be happy to make it to Monday morning in one piece.
Once she no longer felt as if she were going to throw up or pass out, she hugged her arms around her torso and tried to collect her bearings.
Was Navarre okay?Was he even alive?The questions haunted her thoughts.If he got hurt—or worse—because of her, she’d never forgive herself.She hadn’t wanted to leave him behind, but what else could she have done?There wasn’t a person on God’s green earth that would describe her as action hero material.Her preferred method of combat was with a keyboard and a mouse.Besides, it was what he’d told her to do.If she’d hung around, she would have been more of a liability than an asset.
Tilting her head back, she peered through the tops of the trees that surrounded her.Little by little, her breathing returned to normal, and when her heartbeat no longer pounded in her ears, other sounds crept in.The screech of a hawk.The yip of a coyote.Oh God, there might be bears out here.Or cougars.Maybe even wolves.
But the guys with guns were a whole lot scarier.
Needing to dosomething, she stepped cautiously through the woods.She had no idea where she was or where she was heading.For all she knew, she was walking right back into trouble, though it had been a few minutes since she’d last heard gunfire.Maybe it was better if she stayed in one spot until Navarre had a chance to find her.
A rustle of movement in the brush sent a fresh burst of adrenaline through her veins.She doubted it was Navarre.He struck her as the type who’d move through the forest with the grace of a tiger stalking prey, not lumber like a bull on Benadryl.Whatever it was, it sounded big, and that couldn’t be good news for her.She picked up a long stick, for what good it might do, and wielded it like a club.
The rustling drew closer, and her heart leapt into her throat when a man wearing brown cargo pants and a camo jacket emerged from the dense brush.He was tall, at least six feet, with a rangy build, a gaunt face, and bleached-blond hair buzzed close to his scalp.Deep acne scars marked his cheeks.His nose looked as though it had been broken a few times and hadn’t healed quite right.
His gaze swept over her body in a brazen appraisal that made her skin crawl.She’d been on the receiving end of that kind of stare before, and it never ended well.But what worried Sloane even more was the pistol in his right hand, which made her stick pretty much worthless.For now, the barrel was pointed at the ground, but that could change in an instant.
He stepped toward her, his shoes crunching against the densely packed leaf litter, and she took a defensive step back.
“You’re even prettier than in the movies.”His gravelly voice carried a slight Southern accent.His mouth curved up on one side.“The boss said we have to bring you back alive.That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun first.”
