Hazardous Holiday. Liz Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ it bounced back and forth. But the angle was all wrong for it to come from another car.

      He squinted into the sun, searching for anything that would cause it, but he couldn’t see a thing.

      As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished—leaving behind an unsettled feeling in his stomach.

      “You okay?” Kristi asked. “Do you want me to get him?”

      “No. I mean, I’m fine. I’ll get Cody.” He opened up the door, still looking over his shoulder, but there was nothing. No suspicious cars in the parking lot. No one on the roof of the adjacent building. Yet his senses were all screaming that something was about to happen. That he had to be alert.

      As he set Cody on his feet and closed the door, he surveyed their surroundings one last time. The only other people in the parking lot were a family of four, including a baby in a car seat, and two nurses in their blue scrubs.

      Maybe his body hadn’t relaxed after a year of being on edge, every minute of every day. But this wasn’t Lybania, and he wasn’t facing terrorists. Maybe he was seeing something that wasn’t there.

      Except the shiver running down his back didn’t ease.

      Pressing a hand to Kristi’s back and wrapping his other arm around Cody’s shoulders, he ushered them toward the sliding glass doors that announced the cardiology unit. Cody shuffled his feet and nearly tripped over a low curb, but Zach grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him up.

      “Want a lift, little man?”

      Cody looked up with drooping eyes and a sad frown and gave him a quick nod.

      He scooped Cody up in time to see Kristi mouth a quick “Thank you.” Cody was small for his age but still too big for Kristi to carry very far. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed for so long on her own. Had she just powered through because there was nothing else to be done?

      As they reached the sidewalk in front of the building, they moved to the side to allow a large group to exit. But just before they could step inside, the world exploded.

      A gunshot split the crowd, its crack sharper than a whip. Every eye turned to the column right in front of Zach, a cloud of dust escaping from the fresh bullet hole. When a second shot rocketed past them, everyone screamed at once.

      The noise was deafening. High-pitched and terrified, shrieks echoed off the side of the building, surrounding them and building fear with every reverberation.

      He had to shut it out so he could do what needed to be done. Protect the target. Identify the shooter. Those tasks were all that mattered.

      Grabbing Kristi’s arm, he spun them behind a large potted plant and squatted low. Running his hands up and down Cody’s arms and legs in search of an injury, he demanded, “Were you hit?” When Kristi didn’t answer, he jerked his head in her direction. “Were you hit?”

      She frantically shook her head as another bullet tore through the shrubbery over their heads. He pulled her close, tucking her beneath his arm and covering her body with his, Cody sandwiched between them. He couldn’t tell who was shaking—Cody, his mom or both. So he ran his hands up and down their arms to keep them engaged. He couldn’t let them check out yet. Not when there was no telling what would come next.

      What came next was more bullets in quick succession. He kept his breathing even and his hands steady. If only he could get a good look at the shooter. But when he tried to peek over the top of the large urn, another shot went off, this one far too close to his ear.

      The others who had been by the entrance were long gone, sprinting toward their cars. Thankfully the sidewalks were clean. No sign of blood or injury.

      Because the shooter was targeting only one person.

      It made his chest ache and his head spin, and he couldn’t hold Kristi’s trembling form close enough. Her head fit under his chin, her shoulder beneath his.

      “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”

      But his words didn’t make the hail of bullets stop.

      And then he heard the sweet song of police sirens. Just like that, as quickly as they’d started, the shots ended.

      He didn’t dare get up until every window and roof on the opposite building had been checked. Most likely the cops had scared the shooter off. But Zach wasn’t about to play fast and loose with the lives in his arms.

      He released Kristi just enough for her to look up at him, eyes wild and curls askew. Her face was filled with a hundred questions, but she only dropped her gaze to her son and cupped his cheeks in her palms. “Are you all right?”

      Cody looked mildly shell-shocked but shrugged anyway. “I’m okay.”

      She turned her arm, and Zach saw a red swath from her elbow to her shoulder. Grabbing her with less finesse and more fear, he said, “I thought you said you weren’t hit.” The words were harsher than he’d intended, but the dread that clogged his throat demanded nothing less.

      Kristi followed his gaze to the smear of blood and frowned, looking puzzled. “It’s not me. I’m not...” Her eyes widened in alarm when she looked at his shoulder. “Oh, Zach.”

      She scrambled to pull off her sweater and pressed it against his arm.

      Pain seared through him like a flash of lightning. It was as if his entire arm was on fire, and he hadn’t even noticed. Only now could he feel the blood rolling down to his elbow.

      But at least it was his and not hers.

       FOUR

      “I’m okay.” As soon as he said the words, Zach knew they were a lie. Blood was still seeping from his arm, and his vision was already starting to go gray. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d wind up flat on his back with a slew of doctors and nurses hovering over him.

      He clamped his hand over Kristi’s, pressing her sweater harder against his wound and squishing her slender fingers in the process. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes deep pools of concern, she leaned over Cody, closing the space between them.

      “You’re going to be all right. Help’s on the way.”

      He pinched his eyes closed and nodded. “Swhat I said. I’m goo’.” Was it just him, or did he sound like he’d gone a few too many rounds in a boxing ring?

      Focus.

      He had to stay alert. Stay in the moment. He had to keep them safe.

      Kristi shifted her hand, her finger digging into his wound, and he nearly shot to his feet. He would have if her other hand hadn’t cupped his cheek, her thumb taking a slow stroll along his cheekbone, sending his heart pounding.

      No, that was the strain of the scenario. Had to be.

      He leaned his uninjured shoulder into the cement planter and took a sharp breath. Just focus on the pain. Don’t think about silky hands. Or pretty brown eyes.

      Think СКАЧАТЬ