Blind Trust: A Military Romantic Suspense (Men of Steele Book 6) Page 11

  She moved toward the door, but a slender arm snaked around her throat, jerking her back and cutting off her air. Something cold and hard jabbed the side of her head.

  “We’re not going anywhere.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “DROP IT,” MEGAN said, “or I’ll shoot.”

  A muffled sound of shock escaped Lindsey’s lips.

  Todd’s heart froze. Lindsey stood awkwardly in a chokehold with a Glock held to her temple, beautiful eyes wide with fear, confusion, betrayal.

  Jesus, no.

  For the first time since he’d kicked in the door, his hands shook.

  Whatever the fuck was going on with this so-called friend, the blonde had just painted a target on her own chest. If only Lindsey weren’t in the way.

  Pete twitched and Todd refocused on the man, his mind racing to come up with a way to end this standoff. “Not one step.”

  The man halted, fists clenched.

  “What are you doing?” Lindsey managed to wheeze.

  “What I brought you to Montana for,” Megan said, her voice tight with strain. She was shorter than Lindsey, so holding her had to be tricky. “To make sure you don’t go home.”

  “Wait, you wanted me dead?” Lindsey asked.

  Todd couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the confusion and hurt even in that hoarse whisper. Think. He couldn’t afford to take his eyes off Pete again, but leaving Lindsey with Demented Barbie had his nerves on fire. For all he knew, killing Pete wouldn’t deter her from hurting Lindsey.

  “I mean, I felt bad about it—you were my best friend—but you were going to ruin everything,” Megan said. “For once in my life, I wasn’t poor. I had finally made it, but you couldn’t stop asking questions about the money.”

  “I was trying to help you—” The rest of Lindsey’s words were cut off by a choking cough.

  Anger spiked through Todd like a hot poker. If Megan hurt her… Keeping Pete in his sights, Todd edged closer to the women.

  “Bullshit. You just wanted to be right. I hired you to help with my taxes, not do a full-fledged audit of my customers. You should have listened to me, respected my wishes,” Megan said, her face bright red. “I knew what I was doing, and I also knew you wouldn’t approve. So I lied. And we all know that’s sin number one in The Book According to Lindsey, isn’t it?” She scoffed. “As if you’re some kind of saint.”

  Which meant if Todd had ever had a chance with Lindsey, he’d probably blown it.

  “And you wonder why Cruz was so happy to jump into my bed. According to him, you’re not just a straight arrow when it comes to the law.”

  Lindsey gaped. “You slept with Cruz?”

  “Duh. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you it was me, just to rub it in.” Megan rolled her eyes. “I thought after you broke up, you’d binge on ice cream and Netflix like a normal person and quit digging into my shit. In hindsight, I should’ve known better. You’re such a nerd for numbers.”

  “And so you decided to have me killed?” Lindsey asked, her face drained of all color. “Jesus, Megan, that’s… Why?”

  “Well, not originally. I’m not naturally violent, and you were my friend.” The blonde half-shrugged and tapped Lindsey’s head with the tip of the gun as if to prove she was over her pacifism. “Honestly, it was JJ’s idea. When I told him you were curious about all of my affiliate income—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Meg,” Pete said without looking at her.

  “Wait, if he’s not holding you captive…?” Lindsey’s voice was tight but stronger. How was she not destroyed by Megan’s story?

  “Oh, yeah. Meet my brother, Pete. He and JJ are friends from high school.”

  Her brother. Holy shit, that explained a lot. He’d known his cousin’s husband had siblings, but Todd had been in Afghanistan during their wedding. He barely knew Pete, let alone the man’s family. “So you were some kind of go-between for payoffs to the sheriff?” Todd asked Megan, unable to stop himself.

  “Ding ding ding!” she said. “Wow, Lindsey. Your new boyfriend is hot and smart. Seems like everything really does turn up gold for you.” She scoffed. “Well, it did. That ends today.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Todd could see Lindsey tugging at her former friend’s arm. He wanted to yell at her not to antagonize the woman holding a gun to her fucking head. Instead, he hoped he could keep Megan talking to buy him some time and keep Pete distracted.

  “What was the plan?” he asked.

  Across from him, Pete started to fidget, his eyes darting around the room. Todd couldn’t forget that this man had been in the Army. Not a special operator, but he had skills. And he’d killed his own wife, and shot Jason, without hesitating.

  Megan heaved an almost comical sigh, but clearly she was enjoying the spotlight. “It was supposed to be simple. These guys make it look like Lindsey fell off a cliff. Then, the deputies ‘rescue’ me, find her body, and clear me of foul play. She’s gone, I get to play the distraught friend without getting my hands dirty, and we all go back to earning our money. Win-win.”

  A block of ice settled in Todd’s gut. This woman… Jesus. “So there was never a client with a cabin.”

  “Nope.”

  “Enough, Meg.” Pete’s face had turned almost purple.

  “What? They’re not walk—” Megan screamed in pain.

  The women dropped out of sight, pulling Todd’s attention for a fraction of a second.

  Pete rushed him with a knife he’d pulled from somewhere.

  Todd pressed the trigger repeatedly, filling the air with the ear-splitting sound of gunfire. Pete went slack and slumped forward onto the couch, his gray sweatshirt soaked in red.

  One of the women screamed.

  A shot rang out.

  “Lindsey!” Todd raced to the side of the sofa.

  Both women were on the floor in a tangle of limbs, fighting for control of the Glock. The knife he’d pulled off Harris and given to Lindsey two days ago protruded from Megan’s right leg.

  Atta girl, Linds.

  He plucked Megan out of the fray, ripped the gun from her grip with his free hand and dropped it into his side pants pocket. The blonde kicked and screamed and scratched as Lindsey scrambled to her feet, breathing hard.

  Lindsey glanced at Pete and blanched.

  “We have to go,” he said, recapturing her attention, though her eyes were glassy and she recoiled from him.

  She nodded.

  He struggled to keep a wriggling, flailing Megan subdued. He scanned the room for something to tie her up with, but they didn’t have time for a lengthy search. Fuck it. He yanked the knife from her thigh, eliciting an enraged howl, and simply dropped her.

  Lindsey let Todd yank her over the threshold, her mind numb, her body on fire with the need to escape as shouts came from near the main cabin. As soon as he released her, she took off running, arms pumping as she bolted for the heavily shaded stand of trees about fifty yards away.

  She fought for breath, lungs burning, her focus single-minded as she struggled not to slip on the slushy snow.

  “Lindsey!”

  A shot rang out.

  She flinched and stumbled, expecting a slam of pain in her back that never came. Catching her footing, she forced herself to zigzag toward the trees rather than run a straight, easy-to-hit route. Another bang had her risking a look over her shoulder. The guard dressed in all black dropped the weapon he’d been pointing in her direction and crumpled to the ground.

  “Run!” Todd turned away from the man he’d just shot and rushed another guard who had stopped between cabins to take aim at him with his rifle.

  Lindsey came to a halt at the edge of the forest, her entire body trembling.

  Todd had saved her. Again.

  Dammit, he might have kept his real agenda from her, but he’d protected her repeatedly, without fail. She couldn’t take off and leave him to the gang of men approaching from the other end of the compound. Heart racing, she ran to the side of the d
ead guard. At least, she was pretty sure he wasn’t alive. Prior to today, she’d never seen a dead person outside of news stories. This man’s eyes were wide open, his chest unmoving. She gagged, recalling the sight of Pete’s blood-soaked sweatshirt.

  Head in the game, Garcia.

  Right. She straightened and shoved aside all the confusion and fear and thoughts circling like a whirlpool in her brain. She could break down later.

  Just pretend he’s sleeping. Taking a deep breath, she carefully pried the shiny silver gun from the guard’s hand and stood. To her left, Todd wrestled on the ground with the rifleman, and appeared to be winning.

  She glanced at her new weapon. Did it have a safety? She didn’t see a little switch or whatever. Even if it had one, the man had just shot at her, so the safety must be off. Right?

  God, she was in so far over her head.

  Crouching behind a bush, she got down on one knee and used the other to steady her right hand. She lined up the sights on the chest of the blond man who was far out in front of the approaching pack. Was she even doing it correctly? More importantly, could she really shoot a man? Even a white supremacist who’d participated in her kidnapping and was dealing in drugs and who-knew-what-else?

  But then Todd pushed to his feet alone, a rifle in one hand. The blond aimed his gun without slowing.

  Her vision narrowed to her target.

  She pressed the trigger.

  Bang!

  The gun kicked up, probably sending her shot into the trees, useless. Shit. Everything about shooting surprised her. The ease of pulling the trigger—she’d heard it was really hard—how loud it was up close, the smell.

  Todd dropped to the ground. Had he been hit, or was he taking cover? The quad filled with gunfire, like something out of a movie. Except it didn’t get more real than bullets slamming into the snow around her. Her throat cinched tight and her limbs shook, even though she barely noticed the cold.

  Was it better to move or stay put? What would the men expect? Probably for her to move. Or maybe to be paralyzed with fear. Dammit. She was more paralyzed with indecision than anything.

  Motion to her left caught her eye and she swung the gun around.

  Todd crouched about twenty feet away, a grimace on his face, a black gun gripped in his left hand, his wet clothes plastered to his body. The relief that washed over her caught her off guard.

  The barrage of gunfire ceased, leaving her ears ringing and cottony in the sudden silence. Her stomach turned to stone. This couldn’t be good. She lowered her weapon, and Todd sidestepped closer, keeping his head low. “You okay?” he mouthed, his worried gaze skimming her from head to toe.

  She nodded.

  He leaned in close and she stiffened, slammed with a confusing mixture of regret, hurt, and desire. And the coppery scent of blood. “Do you trust me to get you out of here?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Yes.” God help her, she did. On impulse, she squeezed his right arm.

  He hissed and pulled back.

  Red stained the palm of her glove. She gasped. “You’re bleeding,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

  “It’s fine.”

  Yeah, right.

  Blood trickled from the cuff of his jacket, leaving a bright drop of crimson on the snow. Scowling, he used a handful of snow to wipe the entire sleeve clean, leaving a pink stain on the ground. Then, he tucked his gun into his pocket, removed the glove from his free hand, and covered it in snow. Finally, he stuffed the folded, ice-crusted glove inside the shoulder of his jacket, wincing as he zipped it closed.

  Damn. No matter what, she couldn’t imagine a better companion right now.

  He jerked his chin toward the trees and crawled along the thick line of bushes that provided concealment, if not protection, from the other men. Following his lead, she pocketed her gun and kept her head down, moving quickly. What little snow had found its way beneath the shrubs had already melted and, within seconds, the cold mud had soaked through her pants and gloves, turning her knees and fingers numb.

  Her ears strained for the crunch of boots in the snow, the snap of a twig, anything to give away their hunters’ location, but the wind rustled the bushes and made it hard to focus. With luck, the same sound would cover their retreat long enough for them to disappear into the forest.

  Once inside the shadow of the dense thicket of trees, Todd rose to his full height and darted from trunk to trunk. The snow hadn’t fully penetrated the canopy here, so they could run without leaving an obvious trail. She caught up with him behind a massive evergreen of some kind and tapped his good shoulder.

  He glanced back, his expression severe.

  “Why are we heading back?” Despite moving in a wide arc, they’d been circling closer to the compound, not away. Then again, if she’d expected them to flee, maybe the men would too. But surely they’d keep someone near the cabins just in case.

  He raised a dark brow as if to remind her that she’d agreed to trust him.

  She closed her eyes and tilted her head in capitulation.

  Faint shouts came from her right, setting her heart hammering. So far, their pursuers seemed to be operating on the assumption that she and Todd would put as much distance between themselves and the compound as possible. Definitely her preference.

  Trust him.

  On wobbly legs, she let Todd lead her for several more minutes, past where they’d originally entered the compound, until they peered across a meadow at the east side of the main cabin, the bright sun glinting off the expanse of pristine snow. Her sunglasses had been lost along the way and she squinted at the row of oversized trucks parked in front of the small house.

  “They’re all too new for me to hot-wire,” he said softly, as if jacking a car were a normal skill.

  She almost laughed.

  A man burst through the brush surrounding the cabin.

  Lindsey covered her mouth to keep from gasping aloud, and Todd tugged her lower, pressing his finger to his lips. A wholly unnecessary gesture.

  The man raced up to a gray SUV, his head on a swivel, a shiny gun like the one in her pocket gripped in his right hand. Starting up the car, he peeled out of the parking area and zoomed around the bend, fishtailing in his haste.

  Did he hope to catch her and Todd on the road?

  Todd beckoned her toward the edge of the trees to a tangle of wild branches that looked like blackberry or raspberry bushes, their leaves just starting to turn red for the season. They crouched at the shoulder of the road’s terminus, a cracked and potholed asphalt lot that had been cleared and salted, probably by the large Dodge with a plow attachment.

  Now what?

  “Stay here.” Todd bolted across the open ground and disappeared between two trucks, leaving her alone with the trees.

  Everything that had happened in the last few minutes—the betrayals, being shot at, watching at least two men die, being forced to stab her best friend—caught up with her in that moment.

  She turned away and vomited.

  Todd’s right delt hurt like a motherfucker. The rest of him was pretty much numb from being cold and wet, though the radiant heat from the sun was warm on his beanie-clad head.

  He peeked through the windows of each truck, looking for an unlocked door. The last thing he wanted to do was trigger an alarm. He hit pay dirt with an older black F-150 with an open bed that contained a truck box, a couple of plastic toboggans loosely corralled by a bungee cord, and some unopened bags of ice melt partially hidden under a blue tarp.

  After scanning his surroundings, Todd opened the passenger door. There was no key above either visor, or in the glove box. He checked the center console, under both floor mats, beneath the seats, in the door pockets, and every other nook and cranny he could find. No dice.

  He pushed the door until it latched and then quietly shut it completely, turning his attention—the part that wasn’t tuned in to every sound and movement around him—to the remaining trucks and SUVs. All were locked.

&
nbsp; So, they weren’t going to drive out of here. And for all he knew, the goon who’d just driven off in the Explorer was now blocking the road anyway. But it appeared that the men expected Todd and Lindsey to run. They’d sent teams into the forest, down the road, and toward the trail. At least one of the guards was still patrolling the grounds at the far end of the compound though. Todd caught sight of him prowling between cabins.

  He waited until the patrol was out of sight again, and peered into the F-150’s truck bed. If they were careful, it might just work.

  Glancing around, he made sure the lines of visibility were clear and waved to Lindsey to keep low and join him.

  Without hesitating, she bent over and ran to his side, looking as pale as he’d ever seen her. She might be wary of him right now, but she apparently trusted him to get her out of here. He hoped he could earn it.

  When he told her the plan, she looked at him like he was speaking nonsense. But ten minutes later they huddled beneath the toboggans with the tarp crumpled loosely over their upper bodies, their lower legs hidden under the toolbox, which had a gap between its base and the floor of truck to allow for ladders and lumber.

  Lindsey let him spoon around her to share body heat and conserve space, stiff and impersonal. They both shivered in their wet clothes, the cold creeping in through the uncomfortable floor of the truck bed. The only blessing was the lack of wind and the sun shining onto the tarp, heating his right side. Not much, but he’d take it.

  The situation reminded him of hiding out under a mattress in the hallway with his mom and brothers whenever there was a tornado warning. Their house had no basement or reinforced room, and they couldn’t all fit in the bathtub.

  As a little kid, it had been both scary and somehow exciting knowing a powerful twister might be hurtling their way. Until he’d seen firsthand the devastation it could cause.

  A storm hit OKC when he was fifteen, spawning a tornado that killed dozens of people in a nearby neighborhood and clipped the corner of the Air Force base, less than a half mile from his own house.