Gunshots!
Fuller and his buddy dropped the crate and sprinted to stairs, weapons drawn.
“No!”
Harley’s shout drew both men around. My heart backfired. They were coming straight for us. We had to get out of here. Now!
I pulled Harley up with me and shoved her in the opposite direction. “Run!”
She didn’t hesitate. Broke into a sprint, and man, she was agile. She effortlessly cleared a bush and cut to the left. I tried to keep up with her—which was anything but easy in a habit and sandals—shielding her from the men coming for us as we plunged into the blackness of the jungle.
Several shots stitched into a tree next to me.
Heart in my throat, I ducked and kept running. Until the darkness was so impenetrable that I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face. I stopped and strained to hear something over the crickets and the blood rushing in my ears.
Nothing.
“Harley?” I whispered. She’d just been in front of me.
I groped along the rough bark of a tree and stepped around it, then continued on with my hands outstretched until I found thenext trunk. Sweat trickled down my chest and back. I needed to find Harley. If something happened to her . . .
God, protect her—
Someone slammed into me, ramming me into the tree behind me. Pain exploded in my back, spasming all the way into my limbs. Something cold and hard pressed into my chest.
The muzzle of a gun.
“Don’t move.”
Chapter 23
Harley
Where am I? Where is Kingsley?
The panic pooling in my stomach rose to my chest, constricting it, as I stumbled on in complete darkness. I loved the sound of crickets, but right now they made for a haunting track. What if I got lost in the jungle? I’d already checked my phone. No bars, which wasn’t surprising on this side of the island.
Hopefully Kingsley was okay. And what about Rome? What if he got shot? What if he was bleeding out and needed help while I was stumbling around here?
For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.
Yes, He was with me. He would help them, and He would help me.
My sneaker hit something hard, and I stumbled. Hit my knees.
“Ow.” I fought back to my feet. If only I could use my phone’s flashlight. But it would only drain the battery and give away my location—
An arm coiled around my waist, a hand slapping over my mouth. I screamed, but it came out muffled.
No, no, no!I thrashed. Kicked. Writhed.
“Easy, Harley. It’s me, Kingsley.”
His familiar voice sucked all fight out of me. I stilled in his arms. He was okay. Kingsley was okay.
“I got you, Sweetheart.” He supported my weight until I was able to stand on my shaking legs.
“Are you hurt?” I whispered, clinging to him. I didn’t want to let him go. Ever again.
