Safe in His Arms (34 page)

They started walking again, with Mac leading much more slowly, at a crouch from coverage to coverage. It took them several long minutes before they heard sounds of pursuit then a shout.

“They found the body,” Mac whispered.

She nodded.

“They’ll know we are near. Now we cross over and haul ass back the way we came.”

“What?”

“Trust me,” he ordered, already pulling her along and running.

They broke through onto the pavement. She didn’t have time to freak out because he raced them across the road and practically threw them down the other side. And it was down. The steep slope caught her by surprise and she lost her footing, barely managing to hold onto Mac hard enough to keep her feet under her. A stream cut through at the bottom of the tree-studded slope and once again she raced through water.

Suddenly the night exploded—literally—and she flew backward, her grip on Mac gone. She hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Scared, feeling like her head was going to explode with the ringing in her ears, she blinked at the dust and smoke billowing up from where trees had once stood.

She spotted Mac struggling to his feet, and opened her mouth to yell, but suddenly someone grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet.

“Fucking whore, I’m going to enjoy killing you then taking what should have been given to me. I can’t have him? Then neither will you, bitch.”

Trigger tugged on her hair and used it to spin her around and throw her to the ground again. She hit hard enough to force the air from her lungs, but she tried to gain her feet.

“You’re the only reason he couldn’t want me. You. You left him and all he had was me, all he had to do was want me.”

“You’re one sick bastard,” Mac’s voice called out from the left of her.

Trigger’s face contorted in rage. A second later, he dived for her and brought her up in front of him. A gun hit her temple with enough force that she cried out.

From across from where they stood, she heard Mac but didn’t see him. “You touch her again and I’ll cut you up until you beg to die.”

Trigger manoeuvred her to face the direction of Mac’s voice but she still couldn’t see him. Her heart felt near to exploding with fear. Across the space, she spotted the pistol he’d given her. It was five feet away. Simply five feet away. If she could just reach it.

“I don’t think so, Wolf. You are going to watch me kill her then you’ll realise what a worthless whore she is. Did she tell you? Did she? Did she tell you how I fucked her in the ass? Did she?” he snarled the words, spittle from his mouth hitting the side of her face. The past came crashing back at her, but she wasn’t the innocent girl any longer. She head-butted him hard and twisted in his grip. He laughed and struck her again with the pistol butt. She felt wetness dripping down her temple and heard Mac’s cursing.

“You wish, you little-dicked bastard. You never even got hard, you pathetic, stupid asshole,” she yelled trying to make him mad enough to lose his cool.

He laughed. “That’s not what you said that night. You cried for more, such a slut you wanted me to ram into your ass—”

“Fucking lying pathetic bastard,” she cried.

“You son of a bitch. I’ll rip your goddamn balls off and feed them—” Mac’s voice disappeared under the sudden sound of helicopters followed by the tearing sound of rapid gunfire.

Trigger’s grip loosened and she crashed her head into his face. At the same time, she slammed her foot down on his instep. Suddenly she was free and toppled downward too fast to correct herself. She landed on her knees and scrambled for the gun. She reached it, but behind her she heard the sound of two men fighting. She rolled to her back and barely got out of the way as Mac and Trigger wrestled with each other almost on top of her.

Mac delivered several blows, but so did Trigger.

Trigger’s face was insane, his expression so intense that she scrambled backward with the gun, trying to silently will Mac to break away so she could shoot Trigger.

They fell apart for a split second, but were right back at each other. Mac kneed Trigger in the stomach and savagely brought his clenched hands up hard into the other man’s jaw. He followed through with two hard jabs to the other man’s throat that Trigger barely deflected.

Mac simply hit him harder, catching him in the throat once and the mouth another time. Trigger stumbled back, gripping his throat and spitting blood. Mac drove him backward, nailing him in the stomach with two sharp strikes of his boot. Trigger dodged so that the blows landed wrong and struck out with his leg. Suddenly Mac was down, Trigger on top of him. They rolled, each landing punches until Mac came up with a knife.

Mandy gasped and held the gun tighter. In the midst of the fight, the ground they fought on suddenly exploded. Her ears shot through with pain. She watched Mac go flying off Trigger, his head hitting a tree before he landed, face down and silent across the rubble.

Struggling to her feet, she tried to run to Mac but her legs felt like they’d turned to rubber. A blow landed on her head, knocking her down and making the world spin in darker and darker circles.

“He’s mine now, bitch. I’ll show him what a real man can do.”

Trigger’s snarl scared the blackness away, but she didn’t move, too afraid to let him think she lived. She watched his boots walk past her over to where Mac was sprawled motionless on the ground. One of Mac’s long legs was drawn up and his arm lay flung above his head, almost as if he slept. If not for the blood and grime on his face, he’d look peaceful, she thought with a shudder.

Don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t let him be dead.

Trigger stopped and crouched down by Mac’s head. From where Mandy was, she could see him reach out and touch Mac’s hair then trail his hand over Mac’s shoulder and down his back.

“I could have given you anything, anything at all. But you wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t learn what a bitch you were saving yourself for,” he whispered harshly.

His words shocked her and things that she didn’t want to remember about the attack clicked into place. How he’d rammed his hips against her, but hadn’t been hard until he’d panted how much Mac would hate her now. He’d shoved against her when he’d spoken and she’d felt him grow harder the more he’d talked about Mac. Once he had, he’d quickly come with deep, disgusting groans of satisfaction on Mac’s name.

It hadn’t been about her. He hadn’t used her, he’d used Mac to get off.

She tightened her grip on the pistol and slowly inched closer on her stomach, trying not to make a sound.

“That’s okay, though. I can’t love you any longer, Wolf, but I will fuck you, use you just like you used me all those nights to spill your worthless love of such a dirty little whore,” his voice grew deeper, huskier and he shoved Mac’s BDUs down, exposing Mac’s beautiful ass, and crouched behind him, working at his own pants.

She nearly gave herself away then. No! She couldn’t believe he’d try something so vile. Not to Mac. She swallowed several times, trying to calm down enough to stop her hand from trembling.

As she watched, Trigger pressed down over Mac, one arm working his belt, the other holding him up. She shivered as he sucked on Mac’s ear and husked something. Whatever he’d said turned him on because he ground his hips down against Mac with a low laugh. “Yeah, that’s all you deserve, a hard fuck in the dirt.”

Now. Now, if he would just move. She needed to be careful, shoot his biggest body part, Mac had said. The chest. She needed to aim for the chest.

She brought the gun up and rested her elbows on the ground. She’d give him one more second to get off Mac enough for a clear shot. If he didn’t move, she was firing at him either way.

He groaned heavily and jerked his pants open. She feathered her finger over the trigger. A second later, he rose up above Mac. She squeezed her finger and closed her eyes. When she opened them Trigger was off Mac, on his back at an odd angle.

“Oh, God.” She scrambled up, holding the gun tight, and hurried over to him. Trigger didn’t move but there was a blossom of red blood spreading across his chest. She’d killed him.

A sound behind her startled her. She spun and fired, barely missing a man who shouted out something foul in English. She cried out and landed on her knees with the gun up.
Oh, God, please. Don’t let them take us.

Behind her, Mac called her name. Dazed, she heard something else, and, in the middle of turning to Mac, tried to correct herself and to face the new sound. She screamed and brought her gun up.

“Shit. Fuck that, Mandy, it’s me, Aceman.”

Too late, she registered his voice and tried to pull up but her gun went off and Ace dived to the left. She sobbed and dropped the gun, then quickly grabbed it again when five more guys broke through the jungle.

“Mandy, sugar, don’t kill the rescue,” Mac mumbled.

“Oh, God, oh, God.” She turned and spotted Mac’s eyes open. A frown pulled at his brow. “Why is my ass out?”

She collapsed on him, but managed to drag his BDUs back up to cover him. Her arm hurt, her head hurt, but she couldn’t stop touching him. He grumbled something she couldn’t make out, turned, and sat up, pulling her close.

Ace crouched down beside them and she winced over at him through her tears.

“Damn, you nearly blew my head off. What’s with Trigger’s dick out?”

She started crying and laughing then, so scattered she didn’t know if she could stop.

Ace reared back, looking surprised for a second. “This shit is not good, but we need to go. You’re hit, Mac’s hit, whatever the fuck is up with Mac’s ass being out, I don’t want to know.”

“Well, I do. Shit is funny,” a new voice called, earning a ‘fuck you’ from Mac.

“He was going to—he was trying to—and I shot him, Mac. I killed him, I shot him.” Mandy gripped his arm tight, trying to relay what had happened. How important that was. “He’s gone. I did it. He’s gone.”

Mac pulled her close, hiding her face in his chest and caressing her back. “You did, sugar, you saved my ass.” He laughed and kissed her head. “You nearly tore a hole in Ace, though, but that’s okay. You did it, baby.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the one that was now throbbing.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

“Hey, hate to break this up, but we gotta hit it.”

Mac grumbled something to the stranger about dickhead daredevils but said, “Yeah, give us a minute, would ya? Just fill us in now. What’s the stats? Where’s the cartel?”

“Dead or dying,” Ace said.

She felt Mac nod then his fingers tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “You ready to get out of this shit?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

He stood and pulled her with him. The guys all stood in defensive postures , keeping a tight circle around them. The dark-haired guy, the one that had laughed at her, toed Trigger.

“Small-dicked motherfucker, huh? Probably wouldn’t have felt it.” He laughed and winked at Mac.

She shivered and tightened her arms around Mac’s waist.

“Shut up, West, before you feel my fist in your face,” Mac snarled.

The guy West raised his eyebrows but his grin grew. He winked at her and tilted his head. “Grouchy guy, sure you want to latch onto that?”

Ace shoved the men into action with a nod. “Cut the shit. Let’s get out of here, Lacey is scared as hell.”

So was she. Why did she feel like things weren’t over yet?

“Shit, Mandy? Mandy, baby, what the—? Fuck! She’s shot. Motherfucker, who shot her?”

“Mac, shh, don’t yell so loudly.” She sounded weak. She’d never sounded so weak and small.

Suddenly the world tipped and she heard men, angry, worried men, and Mac’s soft call of her name. Bleeding? She’d been bleeding all this time? That wasn’t good. Mac curled his arms around her and suddenly it was all good. All of it.

She was safe now.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Five days later, Mandy got out of the shower, towelled off and pulled on a lightweight summery dress. Excitement tingled down her body and she shivered at how sensitive her skin felt.

For the past five days, Mac had refused to touch her more than to hold her each night and sleep with her tucked tight to his big body. At first, the pain from her gunshot and the horrors of their experiences had occupied her mind too much to worry over him not making love to her. Plus, he’d kissed her and had soothed her with grumbles about how hard she was making him each time she’d breathed too deeply at night. Well, that, and how he got that white-faced pained look each time he’d changed her bandage. The man worried about her, beyond worried. He refused to consider having sex because he said it would jar her wound and hurt.

That worked for three, almost four days. Last night she’d been ready to put all that behind her and step forward into their life together. Only he’d slipped something into her drink at dinner and she’d fallen asleep. When she’d called him on it, he’d kissed her and had told her she looked all better now. Of course then someone had called and he’d shaken the sleep from his own eyes to answer the phone.

Finishing her hair, she set her hairbrush down and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked the same, her blonde curls were a bit longer, her grey eyes a bit darker with the experiences they’d had the last week, but she still looked like Mandy. Not a killer. Not a woman related to killers.