“But—”
“No buts. You belong to me. And nobody takes what’s mine.”
Oh God!Her body shakes went into hyperdrive. “I stabbed Detective Vonn.”
His arms tightened. “I know. I’m so fucking proud of you my chest hurts.”
Despite the rawness of her emotions, she huffed and planted a kiss over his collapsed lung. “That’s not why your chest hurts, Mr. Bossy Pants. Where’s Doc? Is he…”
Adam lifted her head with a finger under her chin. “He’s fine.” His eyes held hers, and she saw the truth in their depths. “Zander is too. They’re searching the cabin now.”
Relief swamped her, and the tears came hard and fast. “And Detective Vonn?”
“He’s dead.” He cupped her head in his hands and brushed his thumbs over her wet cheeks.
“The gunshot?”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer, but we got here first.”
Eve’s limbs went weak with relief. They did it. Vonn’s reign of terror had ended.
The only thing left to do. Find the missing women.
“You ready to go?” Adam asked, brushing the fingers of his free hand from her temple to her chin. A lover’s touch, intimate and full of promise.
Was she ready?
Yes. No. She hardly knew.
Between the painful beats of her heart, a storm gathered. Built in energy. A powerful surge set to unleash, and then he caught her hand and the swell of distress dissipated with the strength of his grip.
She had a feeling she’d be suffering from emotional whiplash for a while, but for now, she was alive. Adam had found her. And she wanted to collect her friends, dole out hugs, and go home.
Back at the airport,Adam attempted to fill his lungs with air, and holy fuck. His chest hurt. He’d taken lead to the vest before, but not at such close range. Every shallow breath he managed to suck in sent a stabbing pain straight through his sternum and out his back.
“You got the briefcase, Kincaid?”
“Yeah. I got the briefcase, dumbass, get in the fucking truck already.”
“I’m coming with you,” Eve said, refusing to give up the argument they were having. On the tarmac behind her, the jet sat ready, engines fired, waiting for her to board.
“Last chance, Eve. Get on the plane.”
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “No.”
He wanted to fly home with her. She wouldn’t allow it.
Neither would Doc, or Grant, or Gray. Or any of the JTT for that matter.
But that was beside the point.
She wanted to drive home with him. He wouldn’t allow it.
Deadlock reached, they’d entered the standoff phase of their disagreement, and Adam had no intention of losing this battle. He wanted her back at the lodge and out of sight when the news about the Matthews and Detective Vonn broke in the morning.
A twenty-four-hour drive with multiple stops thrown in for shit like fuel, food, and fucking horse tranquilizers to take the edge off his aches and pains presented too big a risk. Too many assholes with cell phones taking selfies these days.
Sure, the odds were low someone would snap a picture with Eve in the background or even capture her on video, but they weren’t zero, and right fucking now his tolerance was less than fucking zero.
