Texas Takedown. Barb Han

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СКАЧАТЬ Everything had happened so fast she hadn’t had a chance to process it.

      “You know what I’ll be doing?” he said, his calm voice settling over her.

      She shook her head.

      “I’ll be picking Maribel up from school about now.”

      The image of him, all muscle-and-steel man, tenderly holding his little girl, stirred her heart in ways she’d never experienced. She’d seen him at the grocery with Maribel a few times, witnessed his tenderness with his daughter.

      “You need to drop me off somewhere and go to her.”

      “I’m not leaving you alone, Samantha. End of conversation.” A mix of emotion played out across his features, determination rising to the top. “What about you? What are you going to be doing this time next week?”

      “My dad invited me to go fishing with him.” Her dad. Where was he? What have you done, Daddy?

      “Good. Focus on that when you get scared. Know that you will be sitting next to him on his boat, hauling in the largest catfish either of you have ever seen.”

      “That’s his favorite. Loves the taste of blues.”

      “The man has good taste.”

      Samantha had a clear mental picture, and it was working.

      “Better?”

      “Yes.” Much to her surprise, it was helping a little. Then again, Dylan’s confidence was addicting. She’d have to work harder to ignore the sensual shivers his touch brought.

      “Hand me the duffel.” His voice was level and calm, the complete opposite of the emotions still trilling through Samantha.

      “Okay. What now? What do we do?” The sheer amount of foot traffic on the sidewalk and the streets made it impossible to get away. If they didn’t make a move soon, the driver would edge his way closer until he could get a good shot.

      Dylan told her the address of the hideout.

      “On three, I want you to open that door and run into the alley. Don’t look back. No matter what happens, keep going. Got it?”

      “What if—?”

      “One...”

      The thought of splitting up and going in different directions had Samantha bracing for a full-on panic attack. She’d have to trust that Dylan knew what he was doing.

      Given what she’d been through in the past few days, the idea of trusting anyone was almost laughable.

      “Two...”

      He glanced at her as though searching for confirmation.

      She nodded and gripped the door handle.

      “Three. Go!”

      She pushed the door open and burst from the car, jolting toward the alley lined with parked vehicles until her thighs burned. Students were everywhere.

      Dodging in and out of the human obstacle course, she ran harder as panic mounted. An icy grip around her rib cage squeezed. Where was Dylan?

      She couldn’t even think of anything happening to him. His little girl needed him.

      The sound of shots fired made her knees wobble and the crowds scatter. She steadied herself and charged ahead, fighting the urge to look back, knowing that losing a precious second of advantage could cost her her life.

      Where was he?

      The absence of those intense green eyes on her was like being thrust into darkness. She’d do almost anything to see him again, to know he was okay. The only reason she missed him was because she hurt for his little girl, she tried to convince herself. Samantha knew what it was like to lose a parent. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d become her lifeline in a matter of hours. Everything about his presence was soothing.

      He’d risked his life to save her and she hadn’t had a chance to thank him yet.

      The thought of doing any of this without him brought on deep physical pain. She told herself it was because of his professional skills and not because of his strength or virility.

      Except he had Maribel. And what if something happened to him?

      Samantha would never forgive herself.

      * * *

      DYLAN PARKED THE CAR and ran. He’d given Samantha a three-minute head start. He ducked, narrowly avoiding the bullet that lodged into the brick two feet from his head. As far as good days went, barely escaping a head shot didn’t rack up as one of them. With so many innocent civilians around, he wouldn’t return fire and risk a stray bullet.

      Zigzagging in and out of buildings, he cut left.

      Samantha had no phone or GPS to guide her. She’d have to rely on the instructions he’d given her. Since she was in an understandably stressed-out state, he couldn’t count on that happening.

      Risking a glance behind, he caught sight of two men following him. Neither broke off in Samantha’s direction. That was a win. Now all he had to do was shake them. Her theory of this being carried out by Thomas Kramer disintegrated. He’d worked alone, and whoever was behind this had resources.

      Dylan pushed his legs harder, faster. The guys behind him were already showing signs of fatigue.

      Good.

      As long as he kept his pace, he could outrun them. Ducking in between houses, he circled back. Samantha should be long gone, but if she was in trouble, he hoped he’d get there in time.

      The whop-whop-whop of a chopper sounded overhead; no doubt shots being fired had drawn police attention. He slid underneath a Suburban and waited.

      After sixty seconds, the chopper noise faded.

      Glancing around, he noted that the coast seemed clear of foot traffic, too.

      As he slid out from underneath the SUV, a blow to the head came out of nowhere. Dylan stumbled forward, checking his balance by grabbing the SUV. Without turning, he dropped to a squat and, with one leg extended, swept behind him.

      The contact was followed by a clunk, confirming a direct hit.

      Pivoting, Dylan covered the guy who’d hit him with a quick jab and then ran. He needed to locate Samantha. He could only pray that his diversion tactic had worked. He’d promised to protect her. The thought of her being vulnerable was a sucker punch to his gut. He told himself it was because she was counting on him and he didn’t want to let her down, and that it had nothing to do with the electricity humming inside him when she was near.

      He blocked the image of her lying in the alley somewhere, hurt, out of his mind.

      Focusing on their next steps, he decided his first action would be to change their appearances. The hideout would most likely have a much-needed change of clothes. He hoped she’d be there. Dylan covered the few blocks quickly.

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