Rosalie pats her pocket. “Yeah.”
Taking her by the elbow, I drag her into the woods lining the road. “If we can get to a concealed spot and call Ivan, maybe I can find out what the hell is going on.”
“What about the money?” Rosalie asks, glancing behind us as we trudge through dried leaves. “And all our stuff?”
“We leave it. It’ll do us no good if we’re dead.”
Her body jolts. “Dead? You think we’re going to die?”
I look back at the road. I can still see both vehicles through the trees. Steam is coming from under the hood of the one that had been chasing us. Other than that, there’s no movement.
I have no idea who we’re dealing with, but I hope they’re knocked out cold.
I get my gun out. It’s been a long time since I held a weapon in my hand with the intention of using it. Flicking the safety off, I point it down while keeping my finger along it, so I’m ready to get to the trigger if I have to.
Tucking Rosalie close to my side, I say, “It’ll be all right.”
I’m not sure if it’s true, but Rosalie believes me. She nods quickly as she clings to me.
My good girl. My sweet yet fiery wife. I hate that she’s been through so much in the past few days. I’d thought those difficulties were in the past. I’d thought we were home free.
I’d thought wrong.
A loud bang goes off somewhere. Rosalie shrieks, and it takes me a second to realize my gun has dropped from my hand.
Then the pain registers.
My palm feels like it’s been run through a shredder. Looks like it, too. Blood is flowing out of the bullet-sized wound in a steady trickle.
Shoving Rosalie behind a thick tree, I cover her body with mine. Another shot rings out and the bark near my head splinters.
“Oh my God,” Rosalie whimpers. “We’re being shot at.” When she sees my injury, her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. “Did you get shot?”
“Yep,” I rasp. “Stay very still.”
I peek out, and I only see a blur of black clothing on a tall frame before our attacker is unloading two more rounds that hit the ground near us. I duck back behind the tree.
Those are warnings. If he’s good enough to aim for my firing hand and hinder my ability to shoot back, he could definitely hit me somewhere vital.
Tearing the bottom of my shirt with my teeth, I rip a strip off and wrap the fabric tightly around my hand. It hurts like hell, but it’s not life-threatening.
“I dropped my gun,” I say in a hushed whisper. “We don’t have anything to fight back with. You need to be ready to run.” Before Rosalie can convince me otherwise, I shout, “Okay, you’ve got us. Why don’t you tell me what you want, and we’ll see if we can come to an agreement?”
“The girl,” the gruff reply comes from about twenty feet away.
He’s getting closer.
He’s also asking for the one thing I can’t give him. “What do you want with her?”
“There’s a large reward on her head. I intend to cash in. She won’t be harmed. I promise you that.”
“You’re working for Loralee Pearson?”
“I work for myself.” That’s basically a yes. Fucking Loralee.
“What about Preston?” Rosalie chimes in. “What do you want with him?”
“I can get extra money if I bring him, too. Preferably alive, but I’ll take him dead if I have to. Reward will still be the same.”
“You don’t want to do this,” Rosalie barks defiantly. “My father is a very scary man. He’ll come after you.”
The man chuckles. “On the contrary, Ivan Belov should be scared of me. He has no idea what I’m capable of.”
Rosalie tilts her head to the side as if she’s coming to a realization. “Donovan? Is that you?”
“She’s a smarty pants,” he quips, confirming her suspicion.
I’ve only heard the guy talk once before I was tranquilized, but now I recognize the slight southern drawl. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Ivan?”
“Yep. If only that asshole was as smart as he is rich,” Donovan sneers. “Lucky for me, he’s not.”
I hate that Donovan’s right. If he’d known Ivan was watching his location, all he’d have to do is leave his device where he wanted Ivan to think he is.
I suppose Ivan could be realizing his mistake right now. He might be heading this way.
He might be too late.
Rosalie’s shaking more than she was before, and I don’t think it’s because of the cold.
Donovan scares her.
Listening intently, I measure his footsteps. He’s slowly and methodically closing in, but there’s an unnatural rhythm to his gait. Step, slide. Step, slide.
He’s limping. Looks like that crash might’ve banged him up after all. Which means Rosalie might have a chance at getting away if I can injure him more.
But that means using the only card I have left to play.
The absolute last resort.
Self-sacrifice.
Ever since realizing Rosalie feels the same way about me that I do about her, I’ve been determined to stay together. Separating was never an alternative I wanted to consider.
Admitting defeat sucks. Giving up the love of my life sucks even more, but I’ll do anything to protect Rosalie.
Time to wave the white flag.
Slipping my good hand into my back pocket, I pass my wallet to Rosalie and very quietly say, “Take this. Inside, you’ll find a business card for Jen Harding. When I say ‘go’ I want you to run that way.” I tip my head to the deeper part of the woods. “Go as far as you can, then hide and call Jen.” Rosalie’s looking up at me with big, fearful eyes, and she’s trembling as she waits for more instructions. “Tell her you’re with Ethan Smith and your name is Melody Parks. Say you’re on County Road twenty-one-hundred North about ten miles south of the airport.”
“Melody?” Her eyebrows pinch together. “Who’s Melody Parks?”
“What’s all that whispering about over there?” Donovan asks. Maybe eight feet away now. “Don’t do something stupid.”
“Just do it,” I hiss. “It’s very important that you do this. Do you understand me?”
“Why are you talking like you won’t be there?” Rosalie asks.
I give her a look, and she sees the pain in my eyes. She starts shaking her head violently, but I put my finger to my lips to hush whatever hysterical rant she’s got on deck.
“Listen.” I project my voice to Donovan. One last attempt to bargain with him. “We have cash. A lot of it. Why don’t you just take that instead? It’s more than the reward you’ll get.”
“Or I could take your money and the reward.” Fucker won’t be reasoned with.
It’s clear he intends to leave here with Rosalie. And my dead body, most likely.
Well, over my dead body, motherfucker.
Preston’s about to do something very foolish. I feel it. I know it.
Gripping his wallet in one hand, I hook my other around his elbow to hold him back from doing whatever he’s considering.
“We surrender,” he tells Donovan. “We’ll go peacefully.”