Blind Fury (31 page)

Unfortunately, that was the easy part. Now they had to somehow get out the window and away from the house without being detected.

Tara bent over Jenna and grabbed her right hand, turning it palm up. “What happened?” she asked, staring at the red, crusted blood.

“That’s a souvenir from the last time I jumped out a window. Maybe an hour ago. Or two?” She’d forgotten about her damaged palms in their hurry to free themselves, but now the pain slammed home again and she sucked in a deep breath. “How many guys were here when you arrived?”

“None, it was just me and Colin.”

“So, there are five total. Which means we can’t go out the door.”

Tara nodded her agreement. “But the window’s going to make noise even if we manage to open it instead of breaking it. We probably won’t make it far. They all have guns.”

“What if we don’t run?” Jenna pointed to the large bed with its draping spread.

“I don’t have a better idea.”

The window frame looked like it was probably painted shut, but there was one lucky break. The glass didn’t have mullions like the windows of so many homes in the area did, so they should be able to break it. Jenna took off her fleece jacket and placed it on the floor under the window, then pulled the heavily framed oil painting from the wall, her muscles still protesting. “Get under the bed.”

Her friend hesitated. “But—“

“Just do it. There’s nothing you can do to help except hide.” Jenna would have said she’d never been this scared in her life before, but the last week had brought her through more terror than she’d ever thought possible. At this point, it was a tiny increase in her fear quotient rather than a large spike.

Maybe she was starting to understand how Mick and Rob had operated under stress for all those years.

With a deep breath, she hefted the frame and aimed the corner at the center of the glass pane. Taking three strides, she lunged forward with all her might and shattered the window. It gave way so quickly that she hit the wall and dropped the painting onto the grass outside, grabbing the ledge to stop her momentum.

The guards would be there any second, so she used the jacket to knock out any large shards and laid it across the sill to make it look like they had gone over. The blood she left behind from the cuts on her forearms should be convincing as long as she didn’t leave a trail across the floor to the bed.

With any luck, the men would think they’d gone around the side of the house and into the group of trees that ran up the ridge of the nearest hill.

Heart pounding as each second stretched out like an hour, Jenna pushed off the wall and dove under the bed as silently as possible. She huddled next to Tara and reached out to stop the quilt from swaying.

Time sped back up. Two seconds later, the door burst open, slamming against the far wall. “What the fuck?” one of the men yelled. “She’s out!” His feet pounded away and a brief cacophony of shouts and scraping chairs came from the front room. “Go, go!”

Tara and Jenna looked at each other, neither daring to breathe or move until the house was silent. Jenna pressed her cheek to the floor to look into the room.

She had to bite her tongue not to cry out.

In the doorway, she could just make out a pair of tan combat boots.

Please, please go away.

“You two are even smarter than I thought,” Colin said, dashing her hopes.

“C
OME
ON
OUT
,” C
OLIN
commanded.

Tara slid out from under the bed and balled her hands into fists so he wouldn’t see how much she was shaking. She and Jenna had come so close to escaping. Everyone else had fallen for their plan. Why did Colin, of all people, have to be the one to catch them?

She glared at the man who’d made her so happy. Thanks to him, she’d betrayed Jenna and Mick and given her body and heart to a criminal.

He lowered the rifle that crossed his chest, but kept one finger near the trigger. “If you go out the front, you might have a chance, but you have to hurry. The guys will circle back around once they realize you’re not in the trees.”

His words didn’t make sense. Why was he telling them how to get away?

“Quickly,” he said, impatience threading his deep voice. He pulled Tara toward the door, gesturing for Jenna to follow them.

“Let go of me.” She tugged back. “What are you doing?”

He stared at her. “I’m sorry. I screwed everything up. I know you’re confused, but you have to trust me. I’m trying to help.”

She wanted to believe him, but he’d burned her before. Badly.

“Tara.” Jenna touched her arm. “We don’t have a choice. He’s our only chance now.”

Good point. Tara nodded and followed Colin from the bedroom.

“Let me check the area first.” He pointed to the wall just inside the front door and went out onto the porch.

Tara’s heart thundered in her chest, three beats for every second he was outside.

Thirty beats later, he popped his head back in. “Head down the driveway toward the road and find a house or passing car. I’ll cover you until you get around the bend.
 
When the others come back this way, I’ll try to keep them off your trail.”

As she passed through the door, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

“I wasn’t lying about my feelings, Tara. I wish things could have been different between us.”

Tears burned against her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. “Me too,” she replied, without meeting his gaze. She shook her arm and he released her without further protest.

She ran after Jenna and didn’t look back.

Mick tapped the screen of the GPS unit. Where was the dot? He closed his eyes. No more dot meant the bracelet wasn’t transmitting anymore. That was all. But damn if his heart wasn’t going haywire. He sat forward in his seat, peering through the windshield for any signs that might lead him to Jenna.

She had to be alive. He couldn’t contemplate any other option.

He cleared his throat and pointed to the turn. “According to where I last saw the dot, she should be at the end of this driveway coming up. Let’s stop here.”

Dan pulled off the road and parked behind a group of overgrown bushes. Maple trees and tall hedges lined the curving drive. They checked their weapons as they left the Land Rover and jogged in silence, partially hidden by the untended growth. A tractor droned in the distance and the air smelled of cut hay and manure.

When they rounded the bend, Mick spotted a dilapidated roof through the newly green and still mostly bare branches of a maple. They slowed and walked low with guns drawn, darting from bush to bush, constantly looking back—checking their six—for threats.

The rumble of an engine alerted them to an approaching vehicle on the road. Mick dove for cover, Dan beside him, just as a flurry of motion erupted at the front of the house. His breathing stopped when Jenna and Tara ran down the porch steps and took off down the driveway.
 

Jenna was alive! His heart thudded against his chest as if trying to escape. Sweet mother of God, she was alive. But Colin stood in the doorway with his rifle raised. Mick got a bead on him, but eased off the trigger at the last second. Colin wasn’t aiming at the women, he was covering for them. What the hell?

Mick would have to figure it out later, though, because Jenna and her friend were heading straight for the black Yukon that was now advancing up the drive.

“Get Tara,” he said to Dan before launching himself toward Jenna. He grabbed her and yanked her through the scratchy branches, out of the way of the approaching SUV, as shots cracked like thunder behind them. She screamed and tried to pull away, and he remembered his new look. In her panic, she hadn’t recognized him. He gripped her tighter and kept running. “It’s me.”

She focused on him then, her mouth gaping with surprise. “Mick.”

Behind them gears crunched and gravel sprayed as the driver of the SUV attempted to turn the vehicle. Without stopping to look back, Mick dragged Jenna on a parallel path toward the Land Rover. When they reached it, he squatted down behind the front tire, hoping the engine block would provide some protection if anyone else shot at them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his blood boiling at the sight of her reddened, swelling cheek.

She nodded, reaching out for him. “How did you find me?”

He held her to him tightly, stroking her hair, afraid she wasn’t real. “The bracelet. I should have told you about it, but I was afraid you wouldn’t wear it if you knew.”

She stroked his cheek before pulling him in for a hard kiss. “Thank you.” Her shaky breaths puffed along his chin and he longed to take her home and comfort her all night—hell, for the rest of their lives—but he couldn’t let down his guard yet.

“I would never have stopped looking. You know that, right?”

She nodded, her eyes shining, and gave him a weak smile.

Footsteps hurried toward them from the house and Mick put a finger to his lips before peeking around the wheel. Dan and Tara were racing in their direction.

“Thank God.” Mick leaned his back against the front quarter panel and scanned the road and the brush beyond. Clear, as far as he could tell. He swung around and rested his arms on the hood, covering Dan and Tara’s approach with his gun.

When he was ten feet away, Dan tossed Mick the keys. “Go!”

“Get in and stay down,” he said, shoving Jenna toward the back seat before he hopped in front, using his left hand to keep his gun trained in the direction of the house while he started the engine with his right.

Dan practically threw Tara in the back and dove into the front seat. “Go, go, go,” he yelled, swinging his door shut as Mick peeled away. Good thing they’d backed in.

They got twenty yards before the windshield shattered and Mick lost control. The women screamed. Dan swore. Mick groaned as fire bit into the right side of his chest and his arm quit following directions from his brain.

He struggled to keep them on the road, but even the best driving skills were no match for his ebbing consciousness and the rutted asphalt. The last thing Mick heard before a tree branch obliterated what had remained of the windshield was Jenna calling his name.

Jenna screamed and reached for Mick. Blood was everywhere, but luckily the tree branch had plowed right down the center of the car, without hitting anyone. Small round pieces of glass covered the dash, the seats, and both men.

“Stay down!” Dan yelled, pushing himself away from the dashboard as he wiped a trickle of blood from his forehead. Deafening blasts emanated from the gun in his hand as he aimed through the shattered windshield. “How many were in the house?” he asked.

“Five,” Tara answered, taking hold of Jenna’s hand and urging her under the tree branch to her side of the seat. “But don’t count Colin. He helped us get away.”

“So with the one in the Yukon, that’s five.” He popped the magazine on his weapon and shoved in a new one. “Keep an eye out on your side, but try to be stealthy about it. The tinted windows should help.”

While part of her mind marveled at Tara’s uncharacteristic calm, Jenna squeezed herself under the invading branch and climbed into Mick’s seat. He had to be okay. Had to. She was not going to lose anyone else. Not now. “Mick?”

He groaned.

Maybe he hadn’t been shot. Maybe he’d just been injured by the broken branch.

Dan glanced back at her sitting on Mick’s lap. “What are you doing?”

“I have to help him.”

“Shit,” Dan said as he reclined his seat and crouched down, positioning his head behind the door frame. “Tara, get into the cargo area and stay down. Jenna, when she’s out of the way, lower Mick’s seat so that you’re both out of sight.”

Tara folded the center rear seat down and scrambled into the back. She crouched low and watched through the side window.

Jenna found the switch on the driver’s seat and levered Mick back, using her elbows to support herself above him on the leather captain’s chair. A bullet slammed into the back door panel on the passenger side, and she jumped in surprise, biting back a scream.

Mick needed her to stay calm. She’d be no good to him otherwise. Still, her hands trembled as she examined his wounds. While he wasn’t dead—thank God—he was badly hurt. She peeled back his shirt, gasping at the gooey mess around the hole in his flesh. Passing out was not an option, but holy crap.

There was a reason she had studied computers instead of medicine in college. Machines didn’t bleed. The last time she’d had blood drawn, she’d nearly taken a dive off the phlebotomist’s chair.

The boom of Dan’s gun brought her around.

Taking a deep breath, she removed her own shirt and folded it into a square. Pressing the makeshift bandage flat over the wound, she applied as much pressure as she could with her injured hands. It had to be enough. It
had
to be. “Stay with me, Mick. I love you.” Her green shirt slowly turned red, despite her best efforts, and tears dropped from her cheeks onto his bare skin. “Don’t you leave me too. Don’t you dare.”

Mick moaned and flinched under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

She finally understood what it had been like for him after Rob was shot. Watching the life leak out of someone you loved, knowing all along you were helpless to stop it. God, please, not Mick too. She’d do anything to keep him alive.

“Dan! Someone’s coming,” Tara hissed.

“Jenna, give her Mick’s gun.”

Where was it? She scooted back, keeping one hand on his chest, and scrambled around with her other hand. She found it between his legs on the seat beneath her.

Tara crawled forward and took it from her. “Now what?” she asked Dan.

He swore and kicked the glove box. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The safety should be off, just aim and shoot. Aim a little low because it’ll buck back on you. And watch out for breaking glass.”

Tara stared at the gun for several seconds before catching Jenna’s gaze. “I can do this.” Her body disappeared into the cargo hold again.

Jenna pressed on Mick’s chest with both hands and rested her forehead on the padded edge of the seat. No matter what, she had to keep him alive until they could get help. Still, no matter what she did, the blood kept coming in a slow but steady stream.