Trusting Love (30 page)

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Authors: Billi Jean

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Trusting Love
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“Good. I’ll talk to you then, Walters.”

Duke disconnected before he could and Eric stared at his phone. Something had changed, but what, he couldn’t place. Maybe he’d disappointed the man, but with the amateurs he’d sent with him, what did Duke expect?

McNeil had been here for three days. He’d been wounded, which would have explained how he’d got so far off course, and it would explain the way he’d almost been caught. If not for the horses and dog, they would have had him. Maybe even with his pants down. Eric grinned and walked over to the bedroom. The sheets were all in order, so maybe they hadn’t been going at it.

“Where are you, McNeil? You gotta know I’m going to find you.” Eric left the bedroom and examined the rest of the tiny place, not finding any more clues. Didn’t matter. The man was heading down the mountain, unaware that Eric had been the one to place a tracker on him when they’d shared a hospital once. The fool didn’t even know he was toast.

“Have fun while it lasts,” he whispered, eying the picture of a smiling sexy Latina woman holding a baby girl. He set the picture down, left through the front door and headed off to find his team.

McNeil and possibly the girl’s minutes on this earth were numbered.

 

* * * *

 

The call of a coyote shocked Kris into reaching for Robert’s arm. He steadied her automatically.

“Too far from us to do anything but get Rowdy all upset,” Robert said, tipping her head up with a hand under her chin. “You all right?”

She nodded, even though she should’ve been the one asking him that. Her stomach rolled at the thought because the memory of slicing Robert’s side flashed before her eyes. He’d not said a word about how much it had to have hurt. Instead he’d told her she was doing great in a steady, even tone that had ripped her heart up. She’d had to fight tears the entire time, not from hurting him or from what those evil men had embedded under his skin, but because Robert was so used to the pain he’d been able to stay calm and reassure
her
.

“I’m good. Are you all right?” she asked. She hoped he didn’t hear the tears in her voice as she tied off the bandage she’d demanded he let her wrap around his waist.

“I’m good, darling. I’m a bit tougher than that.” He was teasing her, trying to ease her even now.

“I know that,” she whispered, turning so he couldn’t see the unshed tears she was barely holding off. She knew he was tough. He’d had to be to survive, but that didn’t make it better to know he could feel such pain and shrug it off.

“That’s great. Now, this,” he held up the bloody little cylinder, “this we crush. Let them know we’re serious.”

“What will that do?” she asked.

“Well, it will indicate I’ve died, but they won’t believe that because it also gauges temperature and a body doesn’t go from ninety-eight point six to zero in a few minutes. So they’ll know I dug it out and that I’ve destroyed it. They’ll track us to where this is, or they’ll gauge where it is, then spread a unit out around this spot. They’ve already got some of the team on us, so they won’t have to send out too many more.”

She blinked over the quick dose of information and tried to follow him. “So we are going to get caught?”

“No. We’re going to see what we can do to lead them off this trail and onto another.”

“But,” she watched him fist his hand around the metal, just like he’d been doing since she pulled it free.
Did that mean he wants to separate
?
Lead them away?
He pulled his shirt and sweater up from where she’d put them inside his jacket and pulled them on like his side didn’t hurt at all. He stuffed his jacket on and zipped up before she could wipe at a tear.

He froze for only long enough for her to draw a breath to reassure him. He reached out and took her shoulder in his hand, watching her close enough she guessed to see her sudden fear. “I’m not leaving you, Kris. We’ll lead them off our trail together.”

She nodded, not understanding how they could, but so relieved another tear got past her fight to keep it hidden. Immediately he grimaced, but he also brought her into his arms, kissing her on the temple with such tenderness she feared she might break apart. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you, darling.”

“It’s okay.”

“Trust me. We’ll lead them away to Sam’s house then circle around to get down the mountain as fast as we can go. We bypass the houses just in case they are already stationed there, waiting. But we try for the truck from the property manager’s cabin further down. If we get his truck, we’re off this mountain and down in town right after.”

“You’re making it sound so easy, but I know it’s not. I…” She stopped and swallowed what she wanted to say.

“Tell me. You, what? Tell me, darling,” Robert murmured, holding her upper arms to make her face him. He was gentle with her, but she knew they didn’t have time.

“I love you, Robert McNeil, did you hear me before?”

“I did,” he said, his light eyes so bright they looked like chips of ice, but warm. “Kris, there’s not another woman in this world for me.” He bent and kissed her lightly. “I love you, darling. You’ve got me, don’t you know that? I’m not going to die, not when you’re going to show me how to live.”

The tears she tried to hold in slipped down past her control but she kept her eyes on his. “Don’t die, Robert. Please. Not after you finally tell me that,” she managed.

He grinned and pulled her to his chest to hug her tightly. “Darling, I just got myself back in your life and for the first time ever in your arms. I think you know I loved you from that first time we met all those years ago. But if you need to hear it,” he murmured in her ear, “I’ll say it as often as you want. I love you, Kristen. And I plan on proving it too.”

She nodded against his warm chest. “You have proven it. You already have, but I like hearing it,” she whispered, fighting her tears because she knew they didn’t have time. After a moment more, she managed to brush the last of them off. “I’ll keep up as best I can, just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

“I won’t,” he promised, letting her step out of the warmth of his arms. “Just be careful, watch what I do and do what I say. No matter what it is or how crazy it sounds.”

He reached over and picked up the shotgun, trying to hand it to her. She shook her head.

“No. You keep that. It will slow me down,” she added when he looked like he’d argue. “I’ll start doing what you say as soon as we head off.”

“Fine, but stay at my heels, and keep Rowdy quiet. Walk where I walk.”

“I can do that, your feet are big enough,” she said, feeling as if they might have a chance.

“That’s not the only thing big on me,” he said right back, just like she knew he would. They shared a look. She knew it was there now, simmering between them. She wanted to say it again.

“I love you.”

He grimaced and a second later dived at her, knocking her down so hard in the snow the breath left her on a gasp and distantly she heard Rowdy going wild.

“Kris? Kris?” Robert sounded far off, like someone had stuffed her ears with cotton. She couldn’t catch her breath or force her mind to figure out why he’d done such a thing. Her breath wheezed out and the silent forest seemed to grow dark on her.

“Kris!”

Pain hit her so hard she wanted to scream but that fuzzy, odd ringing sensation in her ears and the dizzy lack of oxygen turned her cry into another gasp. She reached up to hold her head, sure the world would stop spinning if she did, and realised with distant shock that she was going to black out.

 

Robert jerked Kristen’s jacket open and tore into the shirt underneath to reveal the bullet wound he found on her right upper arm. Blood oozed from her golden skin, making his heart tighten. He brushed it off gently to reveal the rough graze the bullet had made, ripping through the flesh. He held his hand on it, exerting enough pressure to keep it from bleeding too badly and met her frightened eyes.

“I was shot?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he managed. A little to the left and her arm would have been shattered. Gently, he lowered her back down to the snowy ground and ripped a piece of his shirt off without removing his hand. He balled it up and stuffed it against the wound, and winced when she did, but he grabbed her hand and covered the material, covering her hand with his to indicate she should hold it tightly. “It’s going to be okay, though, Kris.”

“Okay,” she whispered, but he knew she was fading. Shock did that, he knew, but the idea of her passing out scared him to his core.

“Don’t pass out,” he heard himself say, sounding frantic.

“I… I’m…” she blinked several times and her hand loosened under his. Blood had soaked through and fearing the loss more than the pain of holding her arm tightly, he clenched his hand on her arm. She gasped then with another flutter, her eyes closed.

Panic could do this. Shock too. He knew it, held onto the idea with a vengeance.

Another shot thudded into the tree on his left. He ignored it and the man using them for target practice. He had to secure Kris.

He ripped off another piece of her T-shirt and applied it to the wound with enough pressure to keep the bleeding down as he tore off a longer strip with his other hand. Her arm was so small, his entire hand wrapped around it. His heart slammed into his ribs as panic tried to dig its ugly claws in. The need for battle was primal and had his limbs aching to move. Now was not the time, so he held back, forcing himself to secure what was most important first before going after what had threatened it.

Two more shots whizzed by as he worked on her arm. Her bleeding had slowed down enough for him to let her go, though, so he gently tied off the makeshift bandage. She still didn’t stir. Gunshots were traumatic, he knew, but this was Kris.
His Kris
. Shot because of him. Working on her clothes he got her covered up, took off his jacket and tucked it up over her to her neck to keep her warm. Best she not wake up, he thought. She’d try to stop him and he’d have to explain he couldn’t.

He stood and looked at Rowdy.

“Stay,” he growled, barely recognising his voice. The dog whined but got down on his stomach right by Kris’ head.

He took one more look at Kris’ too pale face and turned for the gun. More shots had been fired at their spot, but either the trees were blocking the shooter or the guy sucked. Whoever had got a hit on Kris wasn’t a sniper. He also wasn’t going to live much longer.

The slow, easy breaths Robert took were counting down the man’s life. He knew the shooter was moving, finding a new spot to fire each time and he knew the guy thought he had the advantage of high ground.

Robert knew better. His gut tightened and he raced for the spot across from where Kris had been shot. From the angle of that first hit, this was where he had started. If there had been others Robert knew they wouldn’t have survived past the first hit. But he was alone, and while he might have called in for back-up, they wouldn’t arrive in time.

Within sixty seconds, Robert found where he’d knelt. Another twenty feet and he found the next spot. A shot fired from his right, and Robert felt the breeze of it passing. He turned, raised the rifle, spotted the guy through a V in the trees and squeezed off a shot. The muffled thud and crashing trees were his answer to whether the man lived or died, but the shot was too easy. It wasn’t enough. Robert’s heart pumped enough blood for him to kill dozens with his bare hands. The rage, the killing heat had him by the throat.

Kris.

The name blew through his mind and broke through the rage he had always fought when he was on the drug. Startled, he stopped mid-step and shook his head, blinking the sweat out of his eyes to watch where his mark had fallen. Nothing moved and after a count to thirty Robert took off, scrambling back down the hillside through the deep snow, nearly on his ass a few times in his rush to get back to her before she woke, alone and afraid.

The shooter was dead, he was sure of it, so he broke one of his rules and didn’t confirm that. Instead he got down to where he spotted Rowdy watching him and raced to Kris’ side.

She hadn’t woken, but he didn’t panic.
Not going to. Can’t panic.

“Kris, you gotta wake up now,” he told her, shoving the shotgun over his shoulder so he could pick her up. She was so damn light, she barely registered in his arms. Her cheek was cold, and her face so still he fought off the panic and waited to feel the warmth of her breath. When he did, his knees went weak but he firmed his stance and glanced around the empty, snowing landscape.

Rowdy whined at his feet, clearly as upset as Robert was over Kris’ silence.

“Rowdy, come on, she’s going to be fine, buddy,” he called, already walking towards Sam’s house. He hoped. Kris had said up this ridge and along an old highway no longer used but she’d said it would still be a visible cut in the woods. He’d see it if he saw it. If not, he’d just make his way to the road. “Kris, darling, you need to wake up,” he told her again.

Her face was unnaturally still and her lips were pale and dry when he brushed a kiss over them. She grimaced, relieving him so much he had to pause and breathe in the sweet smell of her hair before he could keep going.

“Robert?”

The sound of her voice, so reedy, sent another shot of panic through him. “Yeah, it’s me, darling. How do you feel?”

“Like someone shot me,” she whispered, turning her head to his neck. “How do you handle this like it’s a
splinter
?”

He wanted to hug her tighter, but resisted because he might hurt her. “I just got used to it I guess. It still hurts, but I guess I just got used to it.” He hadn’t really ever thought about it in years, but the first time he’d been shot hadn’t been like she said. “I wasn’t always that way. The first time I was shot, it hurt like hell and I was certain I’d die. My commander at the time let me know it wasn’t much more than a scratch and sent me back out in the field the next day.”

“What a horrible man,” she said. “For the record, I only want to be shot once.”

“I never wanted this—”

“Robert, I’m teasing. I think I can walk,” she added, lifting her head and looking around them.

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