The Guardian's Mission. Shirlee McCoy

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      “A little energy will do you good.” He unwrapped the chocolate, pressed the bar into her hand. “Eat and stop worrying.”

      To her surprise, he wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, pressing his palm against her chilled flesh, his voice warm as a spring day. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

      “Promises are a dime a dozen.”

      “Not mine. You will be okay. There is no other option.” He stared into her eyes as if he could pass his confidence to her with a look.

      Then the moment was gone. He reached for the candy bar, broke a piece of chocolate off and popped it into his mouth. “Looks like we’ve reached our destination. Showtime.”

      With that, he hiked her pack onto his back and pulled her toward the skeletal remains of the logging camp.

      Fear was a terrible thing. It made thinking impossible. It made smart people act dumb. And that’s exactly what it was doing to Martha. She wanted to yank her hand from Sky’s and run, but that would not only be the stupidest decision of her life, it would also be her last. Sky would catch her before she got three feet away if Johnson’s bullet hadn’t already knocked her to the ground.

      The way Martha saw it, she’d done enough stupid things in the past few months to last a lifetime. First she’d dated a guy who had a reputation for being arrogant and thoughtless. Second, she’d continued to date him even after she’d begun to suspect those rumors were true. Third, she’d decided to run and hide rather than face more pity from her friends and family when she’d finally broken things off with the jerk.

      Now she was officially done with stupidity.

      It was time to be smart. That meant waiting no matter how much she wanted to run. Eventually she’d have a chance to escape. She had to believe that.

      Up ahead, thick trees opened into an overgrown field filled with the remnants of a once bustling logging camp. Martha hadn’t been there in years, but from what she remembered, things hadn’t changed much. The place was just a little older, a little more overgrown, a lot more creepy. Then again, maybe Martha was just more creeped out. To the left, an old trailer sat atop a cinder-block foundation, graffiti bleeding down the side in reds and blues and greens. Stumps and fallen logs stood to one side, skeletons of the life that had once been there.

      In the distance, the clapboard cabin where Martha and her father used to stay stood blurry and gray in the pouring rain. Several men moved toward it ahead of Martha and her escorts, their tension filling the clearing and adding to Martha’s fear. She didn’t much care for the men she’d already met. She definitely didn’t want to meet more.

      “Maybe I’ll wait out here.” She tugged against Sky’s hold, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Nor did he slow his pace. They were heading toward the kind of trouble Martha had never dreamed she would find herself in, and it didn’t seem as though there was much she could do about it.

      “You’ll wait where I tell you to wait. Right in that trailer over there. After me and your friend are finished with business, we’ll decide what to do with you.” Johnson speared her with a cold, hard glare, his voice chilling in its callousness.

      What to do with her? As if she were some disposable thing. Martha’s heart raced, her breath came in short, shallow spurts. This was terror. Pure and stark and ugly. She forced it back, not wanting Johnson to see just how scared she was. “I’d rather—”

      “I don’t care what you’d rather. In the trailer. Now.”

      Johnson pulled his gun, pointed it at her chest.

      “Cool it, Johnson.” Sky stepped between Martha and the gun, his hand still wrapped around Martha’s wrist.

      “Do we have a problem?” The words were smooth as honey and cold as ice. A new voice, a new player, another danger. Marti didn’t need to see the man to know it, she could hear it in his voice.

      “Nothing that isn’t being dealt with.” Johnson still had his gun out, but his focus had shifted, his eyes on the man who was walking toward them—medium height, well dressed. Power. Wealth. Danger. They oozed off him. It was his eyes, though, that turned Martha’s insides to mush. If Johnson’s eyes were dead, this guy’s eyes were death. There was evil there, a blackness that no amount of polish could hide.

      He moved toward them, his gaze resting on Martha briefly before he turned his attention to Sky. “You’re Sky Davis. We were wondering if you’d show up.”

      “I got a little sidetracked.”

      “So I see.” Soulless eyes rested on Martha again, and she resisted the urge to look away. “I’m Buddy. You’ll have to forgive Johnson’s overreaction to your friend. He’s very zealous about his job. We’ve got client confidentiality to protect.”

      “Understood.” Sky spoke before Martha could. Which was for the best as she could think of nothing to say.

      “Then maybe next time you won’t bring a…friend.” He glanced at Martha again. “It makes things complicated.”

      “She’s a member of the Blue Ridge Mountains Militia. I’m teaching her the ropes.”

      “Not here you’re not. She’ll have to wait in the trailer. We’ll deal with her after we’ve concluded our business.” He nodded toward Johnson who strode forward, grabbing her arm.

      “Hold on a minute.” Sky pulled her back toward him, and she was sure he was going to protest, come up with some reason they had to stay together.

      Instead, he pulled her close, leaning forward, staring into her eyes. “Don’t worry, Sunshine. This won’t take long.”

      He pressed his lips to the sensitive flesh behind her ear, his words barely a whisper. “Sorry about this.”

      Then he kissed her.

      Not the bland, almost sterile kind of kiss Brian usually offered. Not a hard, quick kiss to silence her. A searing kiss that burned its way down her spine. A toe-curling, heart-pounding, honest-to-goodness, Prince-Charming-I’m-gonna-love-you-forever–type kiss.

      Too bad the guy was a stranger.

      Too bad Martha was scared out of her mind.

      Too bad.

      Because if he wasn’t, if she hadn’t been, she just might have enjoyed it.

      “Mr. Davis.” Buddy’s voice drawled into the moment, cold and slithery as a snake. “Sorry to interrupt your moment, but we’ve got business to attend.”

      Sky released his hold on Martha and she nearly fell.

      He didn’t give her another look, just walked toward the cabin with Buddy, while Johnson moved closer to Martha, waving the gun toward the trailer. “Let’s go.”

      He grabbed her arm and yanked her forward, nearly dragging her the few yards to the trailer, his grip painfully tight. She didn’t complain, though. No way would she give him that power over her. Let him think she was tough, that what he was doing didn’t scare her. Let him think that she really was Sky’s girlfriend, out for СКАЧАТЬ