Play Nice (17 page)

“Hand me Lenny,” she shouted.

She thought she heard Dade mumble something derogatory in response, but the dog’s head popped up in the window a second later. Anna lifted him over the sill, grunting under his weight as she pulled him to safety on her side.

Run. Bolt. Leave him. You’re free.

“Grab my hands and pull,” Dade yelled, shoving his torso through the opening.

Anna paused. Dade had been hired to kill her. He was holding her hostage.

But the truth was, men with guns—and just how many she had no idea—were firing at her. And Dade had her gun. At the moment, he was the lesser of two evils and her best bet at getting out of here alive.

“Shit,” she mumbled to herself.

Anna braced her foot on the side of the building, tugging Dade through the opening with both hands. In her peripheral hearing, she realized the gunfire had ceased. Not a good sign. They knew the couple wasn’t in the hotel room any longer. In a second, they’d be running around the back of the motel looking for them.

Dade landed on the ground with a grunt, quickly springing to his feet and grabbing Anna by the arm.

“Go,” he instructed with about as much finesse as he had at the shelter.

“No, I think I’d wait around to get shot at,” she mumbled. But if Dade heard her, he elected to ignore the comment.

They took off, running down the length of the hotel, passing the side alleyway, continuing on toward the back of the next building. There was a door, a service entrance. Dade shot toward it, pausing to jiggle the handle. Locked.

Dammit, that had wasted precious seconds.

As if to confirm her thoughts, a bullet raced past Anna’s ear, lodging into the building beside her. Chunks of plaster flew into the air, followed by more gunfire. Dade shoved Anna ahead of him, ducking around the side of the building. This time he did run the length of the narrow alleyway between buildings. They hauled ass past two overflowing dumpsters. Anna tripped on an empty take-out box, but Dade still had her by the arm, half dragging her up and onward. Lenny barked, running alongside them, his breath coming in hard snorts as he tried to keep up.

Ahead of them, the alley gave way to the main street again. They’d made it two buildings down from their motel. An all-night liquor store sat across the street, two dark office buildings beside it, and a coffee shop with a metal gate drawn in front of it to their right.

Sirens sounded, signaling that one of the hotels’ other occupants had called the police at the sound of gunfire.

From their vantage point, Anna could clearly see the motel’s parking lot bathed in streetlamps. Two shadowy figures ran past the pool area, assault rifles in hand, climbing into a black Tesla Roadster. They were both dressed in black pants, black tops, and black baseball caps, blending into the night. As soon as they were inside the vehicle, the engine roared to life, tires spinning as they peeled out of the parking lot.

Anna scanned the back of the car for any distinguishing marks. The license plate had been smeared with mud. Clearly deliberate, considering the immaculate condition of the rest of the vehicle. The only marks she could make out were a seven and a B. The windows were tinted, so it was impossible to see inside even if it hadn’t been dark. A white clean-air access sticker graced the bumper, though those were on half the cars in the city.

“Let’s go,” Dade said, grabbing her by the arm as he turned back toward the motel. “We need to get the car and get out of here.”

She squared her shoulders. “No.”

He turned to her. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Anna took a breath. “I mean, I’m getting sick and tired of being told what to do.” Which was the truth. And she had a far better chance of changing that here on the street than she did back in his car again.

“You don’t have much of a choice,” he said, gesturing with the gun in his hand.

She paused. Took another deep breath. “I could have killed you in your sleep.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You may have the big bad gun, but I’ve killed without one before, and I could do it again. Before the gunmen arrived you were sleeping. I could have killed you then. So don’t think you have all the power here.”

It was a brave speech. Far braver than she felt, to be honest.

He took one menacing step toward her, gun first. “I wasn’t asleep,” he countered.

She swallowed, not sure if he was telling the truth or trying to intimidate her.

“I don’t like being held a prisoner, and I don’t like putting my fate in the hands of some guy who won’t tell me anything about himself except that he’s been hired to kill me.”

“I don’t care what you like,” he said, his voice coming out in short puffs that heated the air in front of his mouth.

“Fine. Then I’m out of here,” she said. She spun on her heel, quickly walking in the opposite direction. She steeled herself for the sound of his gun, the heat of the bullet ripping into her. They were on a main street, in full view of dozens of windows. The police were already on their way to the scene. Odds were on her side that he wouldn’t kill her here.

She hoped.

She heard him mutter an oath under his breath, then felt his presence behind her, jogging to catch her. He did, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her roughly to face him.

“We don’t have time for this shit. The police are on their way.”

“Let go of me.” She wriggled in his grasp, but, as always, it was iron tight.

She retaliated by kicking him in the shins. He winced, but didn’t let go. She tried again, lifting a knee to his groin, using all the force she had.

This time he moaned, doubled over, and let go of her arm.

She bolted, running down the block. She got as far as the next building over before he was on top of her again, grabbing her by the shoulder and slamming her body up against the wall.

“Rape!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

But at this time of night there was no one else out on the street to hear her but the man currently grinding her into the gritty brick wall.

“Get off,” she yelled, kicking backward. She connected with his shin, but he didn’t let up the pressure on her from behind, his fingers digging into her upper arms, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

“Try that again, and I
will
shoot you,” he ground out.

She spun around, her face so close to his her nose was almost touching.

“I don’t think you will,” she challenged, forcing herself to meet his eyes. They were dark, angry, dangerous. “I think you need answers, and you need me to get them.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he shot back. “I’m tying up loose ends, and I can do that with or without you.”

She leaned forward until she could feel his breath on her lips. She saw something behind his eyes shift, cloud over, almost soften as her breath mingled with this.

“Then do it without,” she whispered.

She lifted her foot and brought it down with force, scraping down the inside of his leg, hitting the instep of his foot. He winced, lifted it, eased off the pressure on her.

She shoved at his right shoulder, pushing past him, and he fell backward against the wall, gritting his teeth together as he crumpled to the ground.

Way too easily.

Anna looked down at her hand. It was covered in a wet, sticky substance. Her gaze shot to Dade’s shoulder. A red stain was darkening the sleeve of his T-shirt.

“You’ve been hit,” she said to him, almost as much as to herself.

CHAPTER 11

She looked into his face and saw beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and not, she now realized, from the exertion of chasing her down.

“They shot you,” Anna said.

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You need a doctor.”

“What I need is for you to get in the damned car and get the hell out of here,” he said, his breath coming hard as he struggled to an upright position again.

“You need medical attention. You need a hospital.”

He let out a short bark of laughter. “Questions about a gunshot are the last thing I need.”

She pursed her lips together. He was right. This kind of wound would definitely beg a call to the authorities from emergency personnel.

“I’m fine,” he repeated unconvincingly. “I can take care of it myself.”

“No, you can’t.” Which was clear as he swayed on his feet, leaning into the brick wall again. He was in pain, losing blood, not to mention that even if he were in the state of mind to operate on himself, he’d have to close the wound one handed.

“We need to get the car,” Anna said. She realized she was echoing the very words she’d protested against a moment ago, but with the sirens growing closer, their window of opportunity to disappear was shrinking.

Dade nodded, letting her lead the way the two blocks back to the motel in silence. They navigated the parking lot, Lenny bounding along at their side, and quickly slipped into the SUV. As much as she would have liked to grab their bags from their damaged room, the sound of approaching sirens was loud enough to tell her there was no time for that. A fact that was confirmed as Dade turned the engine over, pulling out of the lot just as flashing red and blue lights appeared around the corner. Dade drove slowly past them, pulling over to the right to let them by as any law-abiding citizen would. As soon as they screamed past, he slowly drove the rest of the block, waiting until they took the corner to push down on the gas, speeding through several lights.

Four blocks and several turns later Anna dared to let out the breath she’d been holding. She looked over at Dade. His skin was a garish white under the glow of the streetlamps, sweat beading on his forehead and cheeks.

“We need to pull over,” she said, her voice low and calm, trying her best at sounding commanding.

She was surprised when he didn’t argue, instead nodding in compliance and pulling the SUV over to the side of the road on a quiet residential street.

“Take your shirt off so I can look at the wound,” Anna instructed.

Dade paused. Clearly he was not used to be given orders. But, considering the circumstances, he complied, wincing as he lifted his right arm out of the T-shirt, exposing his hit shoulder.

Anna bit her lip as she inspected the wound. She couldn’t tell how deep it was, but it was large, covering at least three square inches of flesh, digging a neat pathway out across his skin.

“You need stitches,” she said.

Dade nodded. “I can do that.”

“It’s on your shoulder. There’s no way you can stitch yourself one handed. I’ll do it for you.”

“Right. Like I’m gonna trust you.”

“You don’t have much choice, now, do you?” she asked.

He grinned, the movement costing him some effort, she could tell. “Touché.” He looked from her to the blood oozing down his arm.

“I’m serious,” she said quietly. “You need help.”

“Fine,” he finally relented. Though she could tell it was because he saw the logic in her argument, and not that he did, in fact, trust her. As witnessed by the fact his left hand still had the M9 clutched in a vice grip.

“We need to get to a drugstore. I need some supplies,” Anna said.

Dade nodded, then moved to turn the car on again.

“And I think I should drive,” Anna said slowly.

“No.”

“You’re half unconscious,” Anna pointed out.

Dade shot her a look. “I’ll let the conscious half drive, then.”

Anna bit her lip. “Look you can point the gun on me the entire way, okay? Shoot me if I make a wrong turn. But shut up and get in the passenger seat before you bleed to death, please?”

Dade blinked, taking longer than Anna would have liked to open his eyes again. His mouth quirked upward. “Fine. You win,” he said, his voice low. Too low. He really was losing a lot of blood.

“Move over,” she said, pulling him out of the seat. He did, shifting into the passenger seat as she got out of the car and rounded to the driver’s side.

Anna turned the key in the ignition, pointing the car toward Van Ness, driving through the night until she saw the lights of an all-night drug store. She pulled around the back, into a small lot and cut the engine. She glanced over at Dade.

His brow was covered in sweat, his breath coming slow and deep. The gun hung limply in his hand. He looked more pathetic than threatening at this point, the large red stain on his shoulder dripping down his arm.

Go. Run. He’d never catch you like this.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

He nodded slowly, shutting his eyes.

A sure sign he was in trouble. He never would have agreed to let her go into the store alone if he’d been thinking clearly.

She left Lenny in the backseat as a guard dog and quickly jogged into the market. She grabbed a hand basket and scanned the aisles for makeshift medical supplies. Aspirin, gauze pads—lots of them—Betadine to clean the wound, Krazy Glue. She grabbed a couple of items from the pet aisle, then a couple of packs of trail mix and Gatorade, and a clean T-shirt for Dade from a souvenir rack by the door.