Intrusion (26 page)

“Damn it, Audra, I—”

The SUV slammed into the back of their pickup. Metal crunched against metal, sparks flew, tires screeched. His fingers tightened on the wheel, but it was too late. The vehicle spun a full three sixty, rubber losing traction. Audra screamed, the sound slicing straight through his heart. He reached out and shoved her back to the floorboards.

“Stay! Down!”

The truck lurched again, taking another hit. It rocked side to side, its tires lifting off the pavement.
Damn it. Hold on. Don’t tip.

His hands ached from their hold on the wheel.
Left. Right. Turn into the skid. Keep it under control.
He clenched his jaw. No use. The vehicle careened over the shoulder, hit the ditch bumper first. The groan of twisting metal echoed in his ears, followed by splintering glass. His forehead slammed into the steering wheel. The overhead dome light winked on.

Pain shoved through his temple. Bright spots flashed across his vision. He blinked. Had to clear his head. Had to find—

Audra.

He groped for her, his hands sliding into her silky hair. “Audra!” Her name croaked past his lips. He tasted blood.

She lifted her head. Her face was devoid of color, her amber eyes wide and dazed. “I…I’m…okay.”

A bullet shattered what was left of their windshield. Another whizzed by his ear, too close for comfort.

“Okay enough to run?”

“Where?”

“As far from them as possible.”

She nodded, lips tight and bloodless.

He reached around her, threw open the passenger door. “Go! I’m right behind you.”

She tumbled out of the truck and rolled to her feet, scrambling up the embankment to the miles of desert that stretched in front of them. Only a sliver of moonlight peeked from the star-studded sky. The darkness would provide some coverage, but not nearly enough to suit him.

His fingers released the Browning’s magazine. It slid into his hand and he checked his clip. Half full. Not good. He scrambled over the console and hustled out of the pickup. His knee already ached like a son of a bitch; the uneven terrain was going to be one big ball of fun.

Audra’s shadowy silhouette dodged a barrel cactus ahead of him. Perfect. Bad guys and cactus, the night couldn’t possibly get better than this. Terse shouts rippled across the desert. He snuck a glance over his shoulder. How close were they? Damn it, the inky darkness gave nothing away.

He spun around and squeezed off a few shots while running backwards. The odds of him actually hitting something were next to nil, but he had to try to slow down the thugs chasing them. His foot snagged on a cactus poking out of the ground and he went down, his hip striking dirt, quills slicing through his suit at the ankles. He rolled to his feet, ignoring the sting from the tiny barbs sticking in his flesh. Porcupines had nothing on him. A bullet whizzed past his head and he dropped back in the dirt.

Damn, that was close. Had the shooter just gotten lucky or could he see a hell of a lot better than Cam could?

Night vision goggles? God, he hoped not.

He pushed himself to his feet and started running, weaving between the juniper and cactus. His knee protested the extra pressure and sent a shaft of heat up his thigh. He scanned the craggy terrain, squinted.

Where was Audra?

She’d been straight ahead of him a minute ago. Had she veered off when he’d tripped? He opened his mouth to shout her name then snapped it shut. Bad move. Did he want to give away his position?

His heart sped, alarm fueling the rapid beats. Sweat trickled in his eyes and he swiped it away. Had someone found her? He hadn’t heard so much as a peep out of her. What if a stray shot—?

A powerful whine split the air. Bullet. High and to the right. He zigged left, but a strangled cry froze him in his tracks.

Audra.

God, no. Not her. He clenched his fists and changed directions.

“Audra!” Her name tore from his throat and echoed across the desert.

Let the bastards come after him. If they hurt Audra he’d rip them to shreds. Forget his Browning. He’d use his bare fucking hands. He slowed his harsh breathing, listening for her voice, her movement, anything to alert him to where she was.

Nothing.

“Audra!”

Come on, sweetheart, answer me.

She couldn’t be much farther. His left foot slipped on a rock buried in the dirt, twisting the sharp pain in his knee even more. He threw his weight to the opposite leg and regained his balance. Another cactus reared its prickly head and he stumbled into it. The move slowed him down, costing him precious seconds.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

A weapon discharged from somewhere behind him and moments later a hot slug seared across his left shoulder. Missed. But not by much. A few inches to the right and that sucker would’ve imbedded itself in muscle.

He pitched forward. His foot lost traction in loose dirt and then caught air. He tumbled down, his equilibrium disorienting him until he sprawled at the bottom of an arroyo. Soft dirt sifted through his fingers and the slim crescent moon shimmered in a shallow puddle of water. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and his gaze lit on a dark form about ten feet in front of him.

His gut churned, bile flaring up his throat. Audra? Damn it, no. He crawled forward, each frenetic movement making more nausea swirl through him. His hand connected with her shoe.

He swallowed the sting in his throat and shook her. “Au…”

God, he couldn’t even get her name out. When she didn’t move he scooted closer and gripped her shoulders. “Audra.”

She didn’t move at his whisper. He turned her over as gently as he could. The glow from the moon highlighted her face. A thin river of blood trickled from her hairline onto the pale skin of her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slack. He leaned down and put his cheek against her lips. Shallow breaths puffed against his skin.

He ran his shaky hands over her body checking for other cuts, bullet wounds, and when he couldn’t find any, the ached in his chest loosened slightly. Lifting her head, his knuckles grazed the sharp boulder beneath her skull. She’d hit her head. Probably taken a similar tumble over the rock shelf. He tried to take a clear breath, but it felt like a missile was lodged in his lungs.

“Audra.” He touched her cheek.

No response.

“Come on, honey, wake up.” He patted her cheek harder.

Movement scuffled above him. Shit. Any minute now they’d be spotted. He tugged Audra into his arms and dragged his butt under the concave rock ledge. Owls hooted somewhere in the distance, their eerie cacophony making him jumpy. He cradled Audra to him, shifted his arms to tighten his grip on his pistol. If the men came down into the wash there’d be no hiding from them. He had to stand ready.

A bright beam of light cut an arc across the arroyo floor. Another panned the opposite direction. Flashlights. He hunched his shoulders, protecting Audra with his body as best he could while still keeping his focus on the men above them.

“Do you see them?” Gruff, slightly accented male voice.

“No.”

“Keep looking. I’m not going back empty handed.”

Audra whimpered in Cam’s arms. He cupped the back of her head and buried her face in his neck. “Shh.”

She quieted, but his heart did not. It thumped in his chest like reverberations during an air raid. His pistol went slick in his hand as he waited. And waited. His eyes grew gritty from forcing them not to blink. And still he didn’t move. When the men’s voices had faded and all he could hear were the restless clicking of bugs, he crawled from the alcove with Audra in his arms.

He stood and started walking. Each step sent a knife jab to his knee, but he continued to follow the arroyo floor as it wound its way through the desert, splashing through puddles left from the last rainfall and skirting around mesquite bushes.

Audra stirred. He slipped one arm further beneath her knees and used the other to cradle her against his chest. His muscles quaked, and a hot burn seared up his biceps.

“Shh. We’re almost there.”

Finally, after hours of walking, his feet hit pavement. Faint strings of light were edging over the horizon. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Across the road he spied a rundown motel, the saffron glow from its faded sign more welcoming than the Ritz.

God, what he wouldn’t give for one sip of clear, cool water right now. He shook his head, fatigue oozing from every pore. He had to get Audra safe. Just a few more steps. That’s all he needed to manage. He stood, grunting against his burning, quivering muscles.

Crossing the highway, he leaned in to kiss Audra’s cheek. “We made it. You’re safe. And I’m going to make damn sure you stay that way.”

He stepped inside the hotel’s office. The bell over the door jangled and a thin college-aged kid dashed out of the back room.

“May I help you?”

Cam gestured to the desk the best he could with Audra in his arms. “I need a room.”

The kid’s hands flew up, his watery blue eyes widening. “Take w—what you want. Just d—don’t hurt me. They’re not paying me nearly enough to d—defend this dump with my life.”

Cam frowned, his eyes zeroing in on the gun clutched in his hand. Oh, hell, he’d forgotten he even carried the damn thing. He set it on the counter, shook off the numbness in his hand. “I’m not going to rob you. I just need a room. That’s it.”

The boy inched backwards, smoothing his brown hair to his forehead. “Take any room you want. Any one at all.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a calm voice that belied the way he looked carrying an unconscious woman with blood dripping down his left arm, and cactus quills imbedded in his suit. “How much you want for the room?”

“Fifty bucks.” The boy gulped.

Cam adjusted Audra so she rested against his shoulder, shoved his hand into the pouch tucked into the suit and plunked a wad of cash on the counter. He peeled two fifties from the stack and handed them to the clerk.

“Fifty bucks. If you can throw in a first aid kit and keep your mouth shut, the other fifty’s yours to keep.”

“Sure. Yeah. I can do that.” The boy reached under the counter and pulled out a white metal box. He slapped a key with a grubby tag on top. “Third door on the left.”

“Thanks.” Cam had to jostle Audra to carry his pistol, the kit and the room key. He wrestled it into the lock, shoved the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. Worn brown carpeting, a threadbare quilt on the double bed and a chipped table greeted him like a five star hotel.

He laid Audra gently on the bed and tugged off the cap that covered her head. The gash wasn’t as deep as he’d first thought, but looking at it still made his blood boil and his body shake. It could’ve been much worse; a bullet through her heart, her head.

He swallowed hard and brushed her hair away from the cut. It was time for him to do what he should’ve done in the first place: go after the bastards on his own.

***

“I sent you the entire raw video. There’s got to be a clear shot of the bastard’s face in there somewhere.”

Audra’s eyes flew open and she bolted upright. Pain exploded across her temple. She pressed her palm to the spot and found it covered with a square piece of soft gauze.

Where—?

She took in the unfamiliar room, bed, TV, and Cam pacing across the worn carpet, an outdated beige phone dangling from his fingertips, receiver pressed to his ear. A metallic taste filled her throat. Last thing she remembered was tumbling down into some sort of ravine and then—she winced—the rest was a blank. She blinked her white t-shirt and black shorts into focus.

“I appreciate that, but I’m not putting you at risk. Just get me an ID on him, okay? I’ll do the rest.” Cam turned, surprise and relief rippling across his features. His eyes honed in on her, roving across her face. “Thanks, King. I owe you one.” He dropped the phone in the cradle. “You okay?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She frowned. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged, his muscles tightening beneath his own white shirt, but something about the movement seemed…off. Deliberate. As if he were trying to convince her the snippet of conversation she’d overheard meant nothing.

“I’ve asked my friend Keith to see if he can use his CIA connections to get me a positive ID of the asshole on the video. I need to know what I’m up against here.”

“What you’re up against?” God, her brain hurt. “I thought we were in this together.”

Cam plunked the phone on the table. “Not anymore.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed, ignoring the massive throb in her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Though he tried to hide it with a bland expression and a smooth stride, his limp was more pronounced than she’d ever seen it and a white bandage was visible high on his shoulder beneath his t-shirt. He’d been hurt worse than her, but he was far too stubborn to admit it. Damn him.

He snagged their neoprene suits off the edge of the bed and tossed them onto the chipped wooden chair. “I’m going to get this fucker.”

“And leave me here.” Just saying those words caused her heart to thump violently and her palms to sweat.

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Don’t make it sound like that. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

She pushed herself to her feet. Spots flashed in front of her vision, she blinked them aside. “So it’s for my own good. Is that it?”

His jaw tightened. “Exactly.”

“Screw you then, Cam.” Anger bubbled in her veins, irrational and volatile. A part of her understood—even admired—that he was trying to protect her. But, the other part…the one full of bruises and scars only understood she was being left behind once again.

“You know, my mom once told me it was for the best my dad wasn’t a part of my life. Apparently he hadn’t wanted kids. And when she left me at the shelter she told me it was for my own good. I am tired of being left behind because it’s for my own good.”

Cam closed the gap between them and captured her hands. His steely eyes commanded her to look at him. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not your mother.”

“I know.” Her shoulders sagged. “But what if you don’t come back?”