Authors: Maya Banks
A sniper.
Chapter Eighteen
Jules threw herself over Manny, knocking him to the ground. Simultaneously, she reached for the Glock in his shoulder harness. Another bullet whined by and struck the ground over her arm.
“Goddamn it, Jules, get off me!” Manny threw her behind him and rolled over on his side. “Give me the gun!”
She ignored him. Ignored everything but the one thought most pressing in her mind. She wouldn’t let him die. If the bastards wanted her, then by God, they’d have to come and get her.
She dove over Manny and hit the gravel drive with a roll. She scrambled to her feet, hearing Manny curse a blue streak behind her. She raised the Glock and pointed it in the direction the sniper’s bullet had come from and ran a sideways line. Away from Manny.
Where was the cowardly bastard? She ran as fast as she could, knowing if she paused even for a minute, the sniper would be able to get a bead on her more easily. She dodged behind trees, all the while searching for any sign of movement from the direction of the gunfire.
The roar of an engine sounded behind her, and she glanced back to see the SUV barreling toward her. Manny drove like a madman to catch up to her. When he drew alongside her, she yanked the door open, not wanting to go around to the other side where the sniper would have a clear shot. She dove into the back seat, and Manny roared off, the SUV careening back onto the gravel drive and toward the main road.
“That was the most stupid, dumbass stunt you’ve pulled yet,” he yelled. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
She ignored his ranting, her eyes focused on his arm. His blood. Her heart lurched and sped up. Oh my God, he’d been shot.
“Manny, pull over.”
He threw her a what-the-hell look over his shoulder and continued at breakneck speed down the highway.
“Manny, you’ve been shot!”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
She clambered over the seat, landing in a heap on the passenger side. She scrambled to right herself, putting legs down and head up as she untangled her body from its awkward position.
His sleeve was tattered where the bullet had taken a swipe. She yanked it downward, tearing the material so she could expose the wound.
Her heart catapulted a few times when she saw it was only a graze. She pressed her lips to his shoulder just above the wound and closed her eyes in relief.
“I’m all right, Jules,” he muttered. “Which is more than I’ll be able to say for you when I stop this bloody car and turn you over my knee.”
Oh God, she didn’t care how angry he was. He was alive. Relatively unscathed. He could be mad at her for the rest of his life just as long as he
had
a rest of his life.
She crawled over the seat again and leaned into the back where their bags were. She dug around until she found a T-shirt then shimmied her way to the front seat.
“Got your knife?” she asked.
He sighed. He gripped the steering wheel with his injured arm and dug into his pocket with his left hand.
“It’s just a scratch.”
She flipped open the knife, not responding to his protest. She cut the T-shirt into long strips then tossed the knife onto the floorboard.
With one of the strips, she wiped gently at the blood and inspected the two-inch crease that marred the skin halfway between his elbow and his shoulder.
“It really needs stitches.”
He snorted as he checked his mirrors.
“Did anyone follow us?”
He shook his head. “Nothing suspicious yet. It’s several more miles to the airport.”
His grunted when she tied one of the strips around his arm and tugged on the ends to make sure it was tight.
“Get my phone,” he said. “I’m going to call Tony and tell him to have that damn pilot in the plane and ready to go when we get there. I don’t want to be a sitting duck at some podunk airstrip.”
She handed him the phone and sat back in her seat. As her adrenaline rush wore off, she began to shake. The more she tried to stop, the more she quivered.
Manny could have been killed.
She wanted to call Northstar and ask him what the hell he was trying to pull. He wanted her to complete a mission and yet he had people taking shots at her. The bastard was holding Manny over her head. He had to know if Manny was killed, she’d never agree to anything he asked.
Unless it had all been a warning. A clear message to her that Northstar could find her no matter where she went, even without the tracking device. He was watching her, and if she tried to renege on her agreement, Manny would die.
She closed her eyes and tried to control the mad shaking.
“Damn it, Jules, I said I was all right,” Manny said in exasperation.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, sure her heart was hanging on her sleeve, dangling by a thread.
“Don’t you see, Manny? Don’t you see why you can’t be around me? Do you have any idea what I’d do if you were killed?”
He swore crudely. “I swear, Jules, if you don’t stop being so fucking pig-headed, I’m going to tan your ass. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. I’ve been shot at, nearly blown up, had my brains scrambled more times than I can count. This isn’t anything new and nothing I can’t handle. If you put yourself in the kind of danger you just put yourself in back there one more time, you aren’t going to have to worry about the NFR, because I’m going to make them look like a group of preschoolers. Are we clear on that?”
She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. And it only served to piss him off further. His scowl deepened.
Her laughter gave way to the rise of hysteria, and suddenly she found herself unable to stop. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and still she laughed harder, a desperate edge to the sound.
Manny sighed, extended his injured arm across the seat and curled his hand over hers. “I’m okay.”
His voice lost the harsh anger, and it made her shake all the more. He withdrew his hand and moved it over her shoulder, rubbing up and down her back in a soothing motion.
Manuel gripped the steering wheel with his left hand until his knuckles whitened. How the hell had they been found this time? But it was clear Jules had pissed off the wrong people, and they weren’t going to just let her go. And he couldn’t offer her the help or the protection of the CIA. She was a terrorist, for Christ’s sake. Unwilling or not, Uncle Sam wouldn’t care. Capturing a member of the NFR would be a huge coup.
She made a small sound beside him, and he pulled her against his side, wincing when his arm protested. She huddled against him, and he vowed that no matter what it took, he was going to protect her.
“How much further?”
“We’re in town now. Tony said it was only about five minutes from Paris.”
She nodded against him and relaxed. He continued to stroke her hair as he navigated through traffic, ignoring the pain in his arm.
Several minutes later, they pulled onto a dusty county road and drove up to a hangar that resembled a metal barn. A man hopped out of a small jet and waved his arms in the air.
“You Manuel Ramirez?” he shouted over the drone of the engine.
Manuel nodded, and held out a hand to help Jules from the SUV. “I’ll get our bags, you get on the plane.”
She shook her head. “I’ll get the bags. You’re hurt.”
He growled in frustration. “Get your ass on the plane, Jules. I’ll get our stuff.”
She set her lips firmly together, but must have realized they were open targets standing next to the SUV, so she jogged over to the plane. The pilot opened the door and helped her up.
Manuel reached into the back and collected the two bags then hurried over to the plane. He climbed in beside Jules, and the pilot taxied down the paved runway.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the plane took to the air, and he relaxed in the seat. “Are you hurting?” Jules asked.
He shifted so he turned in her direction. “Not nearly as much as I’d be hurting if you’d gotten yourself shot.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “Then why can’t you see that I feel the same way about you?”
This was a dead-end argument. “I should have been there to protect you the last three years. That’s not something I’m likely to ever forget. You’ve gone it alone for as long as you’re ever going to. From now on, no one and nothing is going to hurt you without going through me first.”
She made a sound of distress, but he put a finger over her lips before she could voice her objections.
He glanced toward the cockpit then back at Jules. “Let’s not waste our time arguing,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to hers.
She melted into his kiss like heated honey. Her small hands crept up his chest and around his neck. He loved the feel of her so close. Finally in his arms where she belonged.
He pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. He loved her. Had loved her for so long. He couldn’t remember
not
loving her.
Fear crawled a slow trail down his spine. What if he couldn’t keep her safe? Now that they were approaching Washington, she was in more danger than ever. He couldn’t simply hand her over to his superiors, and he wouldn’t allow the terrorist bastards to take her out.
For the first time, he gave serious thought to skipping the country altogether. Take Jules to some remote island and not look back. But that didn’t sit well with him either. He wasn’t a traitor.
He shook his head, determined not to let doubt creep into his mind. He and Tony would figure something out. They had to.
Jules snuggled deeper into the hollow of his neck, and he kissed her silky hair.
“Did I hurt you last night?” They hadn’t had any time to sort through what had happened between them. He’d been worried sick he would go too fast or frighten her, given her past rape.
She stilled against him, then she pulled away.
“No. You were wonderful.”
He nudged her chin upward with the tip of his finger. “I love you, baby. Remember that. From now on, it’s us. Not you. Not anymore.”
For a long time she simply stared at him. Silent. Her gaze stroking over his face. Then she raised her hand to feather her fingers along his cheekbone.
“I love you too,” she said in a solemn voice.
Triumph blazed a trail through his chest. He pulled her against his side, cupping her head to his shoulder. She loved him. He’d find a way for them to be together. One that didn’t entail him turning her over to the government.
Chapter Nineteen
They landed on a small private airstrip in Virginia that afternoon. Jules collected her duffle bag and followed Manny off the plane toward a waiting SUV. She needed to talk to Northstar. Needed to find out what the hell was going on and why he was taking potshots at her and Manny. When Manny wasn’t looking, she dug the phone out of the bag and shoved it into her pocket.
“Can you stop at a gas station so I can use the bathroom?” she asked as she slid in beside Manny.
It wasn’t a lie. She was about to pop, but she’d use the opportunity to talk to Northstar out of Manny’s earshot.
“I’d prefer to wait until we reach the apartment Tony has for us, but if you can’t wait, I’ll stop at the first one I see,” he said.
“Thanks. It’s about to become an emergency situation.”
He chuckled and reached across the console, twining his fingers with hers.
Such a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes.
From now on, it’s us. Not you. Not anymore
.
God, how she wished it could be true. She
wanted
it to be true.
She looked up as they slowed and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. She smiled gratefully at Manny.
“I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and turned his attention out his window.
She climbed out of the SUV and hurried inside. Manny wouldn’t wait long, so she had to make it quick. As soon as she was inside the bathroom, she locked the door and pulled the phone out of her pocket.
With shaking hands, she punched in the number she hadn’t called in over a year. Shuttled through endless connections, making a trace impossible, the call took several seconds to complete.
She took a deep breath and put the phone to her ear. She didn’t have to wait long. On the third ring, the bastard’s voice filtered through the receiver.
“You don’t follow directions very well. I told you to check your e-mail. Nothing about phone communications.”
She ignored his reprimand. “What’s your game, you bastard? Why are you trying to kill me?”
An uncharacteristic pause swelled on his end. “If I wanted you dead, you would be in the morgue. Quit wasting my time and finish your assignment.”
“If you hurt him, I will hunt your ass down,” she said in chilling tones. “Lay off the snipers, Northstar. I don’t know what your latest sick game is. I’ve said I would do the assignment, but I can’t do it if I’m dead.”
Another long pause on his end. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was genuinely caught off-guard.
“Do the job, Magalie, or your boyfriend is going home in a body bag.”
He hung up before she could respond. She swore viciously and shoved her phone back into her pocket. What the hell was going on? Was he trying to imply he wasn’t behind the shootings? And if he wasn’t, who was?
The pulse in her temple thudded painfully, a vile ache spreading to the back of her neck.
She relieved herself then hurried out of the bathroom. When she slid into the SUV, Manny looked questioningly at her.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded and forced a smile.
Manuel started the engine and drove back onto the highway. As he turned toward D.C., he pulled his cell phone out to call Tony.
“Hey man, you landed?”
“Yeah,” Manuel said. “Wanted to get the location of the place you set up for me and Jules to stay.”
He glanced over at Jules, but she was staring out the window. She looked tense, but he supposed she was afraid. He shouldered his phone and reached out to her with his free hand, wanting to offer reassurance.
She smiled weakly at him and squeezed his hand in return.
Keeping a careful eye on the side-view mirrors, he listened while Tony gave him directions.