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“Marley.”
She stopped stirring the soup she’d been heating on the stove and glanced back at Warwick, standing in the kitchen entryway. The grim look on his face made her stomach clench. “What?”
“We need to go. Now. Grab your stuff.”
“What’s going on?” she asked, shutting off the burner and hurrying toward him.
He turned away and strode down the hall toward the master bedroom. “Walker called. It seems there are multiple people in the area looking for me. We need to leave town.”
Oh, shit...
She rushed to grab her bag from the closet. Jammed her clothes in it, her phone charger, then darted into the bathroom to toss in her toiletries. Warwick picked up the bag Ivy had brought them containing the weapons.
Marley took her holstered pistol from the bedside table and strapped it around her waist. “Ready.”
He led the way to the back door while she shrugged into her coat and shoved her feet into her shoes. “Stay here,” he said in a low voice, then stepped outside to sweep the yard, pistol in hand. A few seconds later he came back into view and motioned for her to follow. “Hurry.”
She shut the door behind her and darted into the backyard, across the narrow pathway to where his rental vehicle was parked on the little paved section hidden at the side of the house. A steady, cold rain was falling, the gusting wind tugging at her hair and blowing dead leaves across the ground. She jumped in the passenger seat, looking all around for any sign of danger, heart drumming fast.
Warwick fired up the engine and started down the steep driveway. The house was at the end of a dead-end road. There was only one way out. If someone cut them off... “How many people are we talking about?” she asked, staring straight ahead.
“At least two. Probably more.”
“Who?”
“Trained agents,” he answered, posture tense as he turned onto the road and sped away.
She glanced in the side mirror and caught a final glimpse of the house before it disappeared from view amongst the trees. Being stuck there hadn’t been ideal, but it had been a refuge of sorts, and the intimacy she and Warwick had shared left an aching void in her chest. An ache that was rapidly being displaced by a rising tide of unease.
“Decker can provide backup,” she said. “I can call him—or even Grady.” They would both help them.
“Walker and Ivy are going to rendezvous with us once we’re clear to the south.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Thick forest whipped past on either side as he sped down the road. It curved to the left up ahead, whatever lay beyond it hidden from their view. He eased up on the accelerator slightly as they neared the turn.
The moment the front of the vehicle rounded the corner, she gasped and went rigid in her seat. A pickup was parked sideways across the road up ahead, blocking it.
Warwick cursed and hit the brakes just as a figure emerged from behind the cab, aiming a rifle at them over the back of the bed.
“Get down,” Warwick barked, burying a hand in her nape and shoving her downward. He jammed the transmission into reverse and hit the gas. She jumped as two bullets slammed through the center of the windshield, missing Warwick by inches.
“Hang on.” He swerved, threw the car into neutral and swung the wheel hard. The back end of the car skidded around on the wet asphalt, throwing her sideways into the door as he straightened them out.
“Who was that?” Bent over at the waist, she stayed down, heart in her throat. Her hands itched to reach for the rifle stowed in the back but Warwick was already racing them in the opposite direction.
“Dunno,” he muttered, speeding back the way they’d come.
Bang!
She jumped and swallowed a cry when the car suddenly careened to the right. Warwick was forced to take his foot off the accelerator and wrestle the wheel to keep control. “Tire’s shot.”
Bang!
The car veered left, another tire gone.
“Fuck,” he snarled, the wheels grinding and wobbling under the slowing car. “All right.” He turned the wheel hard just before the bend in the road, angling for the shoulder. “Listen to me.”
She unstrapped her seatbelt and lunged between the front seats to yank the bag on the floor open and took out the rifle Ivy had brought them. It had been a damn long time since she’d fired one, but it felt good in her hands right now.
He brought the car to a sudden stop and took the rifle from her before she could sit back down. “We’re gonna have to run for it. Wait here until I get out so I can cover you.”
She reached a hand out for the rifle. “I can—”
“No. You’re gonna run.”
She bit back another argument and looked past him out the window at the thick forest lining the road. It was the only option for them. They couldn’t stay here.
He jammed a magazine into the rifle and hit the bolt catch lever on the side. “As soon as I’m out, you run straight into the woods. Head north.” He pointed toward the trees in front of them, then shoved his pistol into the holster on his right thigh. “When you reach the road on the other side, find the closest house and call for help. I’ll find you.”
She didn’t want to split up. Didn’t want him to stay here to lay down covering fire for her. “Warwick, no—”
He swung his head around to meet her eyes, the raging emotions there hitting her hard. “I love you. And I’m goin’ to make sure nothin’ happens to you.”
Her insides went cold. Because that sounded way too much like a goodbye. As if he was planning to sacrifice himself to save her. “No, don’t you dare—”
He was already throwing open his door and stepping out. “Go!”
“No.” There was no way she was leaving him behind to face this alone. She had a pistol to help him. There had to be another way. “I’m not—”
“Now, dammit!” he barked, raising the rifle to his shoulder. “Run, Marley.”
He wasn’t going to budge. And the longer she sat here and argued with him about it, the more at risk he would be.
Feeling like she was being torn in two, she cursed and flung open her door. The shoulder was soft and muddy from the rain, and immediately gave way to a deep ditch dividing her from the comparative safety of the woods.
She backed up a few yards and ran at it, putting all her strength into her right leg as her foot landed on the edge of the shoulder. Her arms lifted to balance her as she sailed across it.
Her left foot hit the other side. The sudden shift in momentum pitched her weight forward. She threw out her hands to break her fall, landing hard in the mud, the beckoning shadows of the woods only thirty or so feet away.
Picking herself up, she stole one glance over her shoulder at Warwick. The fleeting image seared itself into her brain. Him standing behind the open driver’s door, rifle to his shoulder as he faced the man coming for them. Standing between her and the deadly threat to buy her time to escape.
Protecting her with his life.
He fired a three-round burst, the sharp cracks echoing through the rain.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up, her gaze tracking up the road. Oh, shit, he’s coming...
She shoved to her feet and ran up the hill, scrambling along the slippery terrain and into the waiting trees. Moving through the dense underbrush, she ripped her phone from her pocket.
Her heart sank when she saw she had no service. She had to get to the other side of the woods and get help. Trying to cover him with her pistol against a trained rifleman would be useless unless she got up close.
Breathing fast, she paused in the shadows behind a thick cedar tree to look back at the road below. Warwick was still there, behind the car now, rifle to his shoulder.
Three more shots echoed through the woods.
Her throat tightened, determination hardening inside her. I love you back.
So she made the only choice she could, and acted on it.
