LITMIR.BIZ

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hadn’t been any gunshot blasts.

      He moved in close to her in the darkness. “There’s a window in the bathroom. You may have to break it to get out.”

      Was he sending her out the back way alone? Fear crowded into her throat, choking off the air to her lungs. “But what will you—”

      “Listen to me, Maggie.”

      The base of the lamp on the bedside table burst. Maggie screamed.

      “I’m going out that door to draw them away. I’ll fire three shots in a row when it’s clear for you to go out the back. Run as far into the woods as you can and stay there until you hear sirens. The police will come.”

      Before she could argue, he was opening the door.

      A bullet thwacked into the doorjamb just above his head. Fear crammed into her chest.

      Maggie struggled with the need to run after him. But she had to protect her baby. She crawled to the bathroom, crept inside and closed the door.

      For long seconds or minutes, she couldn’t say for sure which, she sat on the floor, her back against the wall, and tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded so fast it hurt.

      She prayed hard for her child’s protection. For Slade’s protection. She checked her pocket to see what he’d put there, part of her hoping for a note that explained everything. Cash. She closed her eyes and fought the wave of tears.

      A sharp sound cut through the silence. Then a second gunshot. A third rang out and her muscles instinctively reacted. She sprang to her feet and felt for the window. It was large enough, but the lower sash didn’t want to budge. She double-checked that it was unlocked, then pushed upward with every ounce of strength in her body.

      The window slowly slid up.

      She listened for a moment, then climbed onto the closed toilet lid and thrust her head out the window. It was dark as pitch behind the motel. Trees crowded close to the back of the building.

      Maggie scrambled out, almost falling in her haste. When her feet were firmly on the ground, she steadied herself and started toward the woods.

      Another gunshot echoed in the night.

      Did that mean Slade was still okay? The other weapons hadn’t made that sound.

      “Well, well,” a male voice—not Slade’s—announced from behind her. Something hard nudged her in the back. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

      A scream withered in her throat.

      “That’s what I thought,” he taunted. “Nowhere. Now, get down on your knees and I’ll make this quick.”

      Maggie had no weapon. She couldn’t even seem to scream.

      He was going to kill her even if she did exactly as he said.

      Maggie ran. She burst forward like a racehorse let loose from the starting gate. The ground seemed to move under her feet even as she leaned forward to advance her escape. Every muscle in her body tensed, waiting for the inevitable burn of hot lead piercing her skin.

      A blast ricocheted in her ears.

      She stumbled and fell face-first to the ground.

       Chapter Four

      The air exited Slade’s lungs.

      The moon peeked from behind the clouds just enough to highlight Maggie’s body facedown on the ground. An unfamiliar sensation slammed into his gut. Was she hit?

      He was at her side before the question stopped throbbing in his skull.

      She grunted and started to push herself up.

      The relief that roared through his veins sent a quake along his limbs. He helped her up, tried to see any injury despite the lack of decent light. “Maggie, did you take a hit?”

      She pushed the hair out of her face and looked around. Her attention locked on the guy with the bullet in the back of his skull three feet from her and her breath caught. She made a panicked sound and stumbled back, her body trembling in fear.

      There was no time for hysteria. Slade shook her even as he gave himself a mental shake. “Maggie, are you injured?”

      She moved her head side to side. “No.” Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m okay. I think I’m okay.”

      “We need to hurry.” He couldn’t wait for her to regain her equilibrium or take the time to check the dead guy for ID. They had to get out of here.

      Maggie held up a hand. “Give me a second.” She swayed, took a breath and visibly attempted to steady herself.

      Slade gritted his teeth and reached for patience. How the hell had she found him so quickly? His contact, no doubt. Bud McCain was the only resource in the States that Slade trusted fully. He’d intervened in Acapulco, ultimately saving the lives of Lucas Camp’s goddaughter and Colby Agency investigator Levi Stark. That move, however, had obviously put McCain on the Dragon’s radar. She had likely tracked him down and made him pay.

      Fury raged in Slade’s gut. His best resource and friend, if he’d ever had one, was likely dead. There was no other explanation for her learning Slade’s plans. McCain would never have given up a single detail, but his cell phone or computer would have cyber tracks of where he’d been and what he’d done. A top-notch analyst would be able to find those tracks no matter how well hidden or how meticulously wiped. She would select only the very best in each field for her elite team. Damn her.

      Slade should have killed her when he’d had the chance, but he’d scarcely been more than a kid. What does a child know of right versus wrong, bizarre versus normal?

      Pushing aside the pointless obsessing, he quickly ticked off their options. Transportation to St. Louis might very well be compromised. The more immediate problem was getting out of here fast.

      Slade swore as sirens wailed in the distance.

      The car was out of the question now. The highway, too. The increasingly deafening blare of the approaching police made that all too clear.

      Hiking his bag onto his shoulder, Slade surveyed the tree line.

      The options were sorely limited. “You ready now?”

      Maggie nodded.

      Running was better than nothing.

      Her hand tight in his, he sprinted into the woods.

      MAGGIE STRUGGLED TO KEEP UP. Her chest heaved in desperation, but the air just wouldn’t find its way into her lungs. That man was dead…Slade had killed him. But the man had had a gun to her head. Would he have killed her if Slade hadn’t stopped him?

      Yes.

      Of that part she was sure. Sweet Lord, there was no escaping these people.

      She couldn’t do this.

      The police were coming to the motel. She’d heard the sirens. She and Slade should go back, explain the situation and get help. He couldn’t do this alone.

      Maggie wrenched her hand free of his. The loss of momentum made her stumble. She hit the ground on her hands and knees. Before she could get up and run the other way, Slade was reaching for her.

      “We can’t go back, Maggie.”

      The trees blocked any prospect of light. She could make out his form but little else. What difference did it make? No matter how well she knew his eyes…his face…every part of him, she didn’t know him. The longer she allowed her foolish indecisiveness to drag out, the harder it would be to do the right thing. “I won’t do this.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m going back.” If she did the right thing, maybe he would, too.

      Maggie turned around and did what she should have done hours ago. She walked away from the danger that was Slade Keaton.

      “You

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