Running Target. Elizabeth Goddard

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       TWO

      An eerie silence weighed down the forest, the tension prickling through the air and cutting off her breath. She waited in the darkness, understanding that any moment could be her last. She must remain perfectly still. Her lungs ached for oxygen.

      Life required breathing, but in this circumstance, breathing where others might hear it could mean death.

      She was being hunted.

      But with her sprained ankle, she wasn’t going very far. She couldn’t outrun anyone who might pursue her.

      More than that, her head was still spinning, struggling with all of it, but especially the part where her old flame—the man she never wanted to see again—had shown up and rescued her.

      She couldn’t make out much, but she felt the taut muscle of his arm next to her as they pressed against the scratchy bark of the thick-trunked pine. Felt the heat coming off him. Sensed the tension rolling through him, and that scared her all the more. If Quinn—an ex-marine—was this on edge, then she had every reason to be terrified. With a bum ankle, she could do no rescuing for either of them. Their survival depended on his ability to get them to safety.

      While she hoped he was able to succeed, when they were on the other side of danger, he’d better have a good explanation as to why he was here in the wilderness in the middle of her lethal predicament in the first place. She couldn’t wait to hear why he’d just shown up out of the blue.

      With that thought, she listened good and long for a search helicopter. Even if, like her, Jayce hadn’t been able to contact anyone to explain what happened, she had hoped that by now someone in the department would have figured out things had gone very wrong and sent a search team. They should be looking for her and Jayce.

      In that case, she and Quinn would get their ultimate rescue.

      Except she didn’t hear a helicopter.

      Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to imagine what could have happened to prevent search crews from combing the woods. Why she didn’t hear helicopter blades whooshing above her.

      In her gut, she already knew.

      She’d contacted Dispatch to let them know of her status and that she and Jayce would be returning with the three men who were transporting some big illegal guns. But that had only been a few hours ago. Maybe they hadn’t even organized a search team yet. Dispatch would want to check on her status and when she didn’t respond, they would know. Still, disappointment wrapped around her heart and squeezed.

      Even when they finally scoured the area looking for their deputies, the sinking of her boat meant searchers wouldn’t know where to start unless Jayce had survived and was able to communicate with them.

       God, please let him survive! Let him get help!

      Quinn leaned close. “Stay here.”

      Right. Where would she go?

      Carefully, she released a heavy sigh and thought maybe her heart went with it. Depending on where they started a search for the lost deputies, the river was over two hundred miles long. They wouldn’t immediately think to search for her in the wilderness unless Jayce told them that was where she’d gone.

      They wouldn’t run into those men on the river. No, those men were searching for Bree. Had probably found a way to hide their boats.

      Footfalls let her know someone hiked toward her. Instinctively, she knew it wasn’t Quinn. The cadence was off. The breaths came too heavy. Nope. Not Quinn.

      She wished she could see better in the dark. Moonlight broke through the canopy and the clouds infrequently. She pressed her body hard against the tree, and tried to calm her breaths. But fear took hold.

      If they had night-vision or thermal imaging devices like Quinn’s, they would see her before she saw them.

      Someone was coming to kill her.

      Leaves rustled as someone moved past her. A soft grunt mere feet away kept her frozen in place.

      Quinn was suddenly next to her again. She sensed him before she smelled his woodsy scent. His lips were against her ear. “I knocked out one of their men. They’re closing in. We have a narrow space and short window in which to escape.”

      Then he pressed a weapon into her palm. He gathered her into his arms again, careful not to hurt her ankle. Then she held on to his muscular form. Buried her face in his shoulder to breathe in his strength.

      She hated being so weak. She was a deputy.

      So was Jayce. Was he still alive, or had he died out here? She’d given him a fighting chance by drawing the men away from him and after her, but had it been enough?

      She thought of his wife, Cindy, and baby, Taylor.

       Lord, please, help him. Help us!

      And poor Stevie, if Bree didn’t make it out alive. She didn’t want to even think about her father, who had already lost a son. Tears burned her throat, but she held them at bay. Couldn’t cry in front of Quinn—though at this moment it wasn’t likely he’d notice. But she couldn’t risk making a sound. It amazed her that Quinn could tread so quietly while moving quickly and stealthily through that “window” he spoke of.

      She tightened her grip on the weapon, a gift, and hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, though she was grateful he hadn’t left her unarmed.

      His breathing increased with his movements through the woods, as she would expect. It felt like the worst sort of ride at an amusement park. Then he suddenly ducked with her. She contained a yelp. What was he seeing? If only she could see, too.

      He grunted and fell, dropping her completely. She rolled to sit and scoot out of the way of danger though she didn’t know where it would come from. She could only think of one reason he’d fallen as she held the weapon out ready to fire. But she didn’t want to accidentally shoot Quinn.

      In the darkness, she could barely make out his form struggling with another man.

      Between them, a long knife.

      Quinn held his arm against the man’s throat, choking off his ability to cry for help. But the thug...he got the better of Quinn. How had that happened? He lifted the knife and in a flash would stab Quinn if she didn’t stop him.

      If she fired the gun, she would alert the others. But Bree had no choice. She had to save Quinn’s life. Before she lost her chance, she fingered the trigger and pulled. Gunfire shattered the quiet forest.

      The man dropped onto the pine needles.

      Shouts ignited the air.

      Quinn leaned over the man. “He’s СКАЧАТЬ