Yeah, I do…I want to get the hell out of undercover work. I want to stop looking over my shoulder every moment and wondering if I’m going to blow my cover. I want something good. Something not tainted by evil…something that is mine.
The flash of headlights illuminated the motel room, and he tensed. A car door slammed a few moments later, and he heard the thud of approaching footsteps. But those steps didn’t stop at room number thirteen. They kept walking, and some of the battle-ready tension eased from his body.
He shifted his position a bit, and Saxon closed his eyes. He should try to get a little sleep, too. Victor would be checking in soon, and then their time at the no-tell-motel would be at an end. It would be—
The floor squeaked, the faintest sound that could have just been the building settling. It could have been nothing, but Saxon knew the squeak for the threat it was. His eyes shot open and, in the dark, he could just make out the shadowy form that had slipped through what should have been a locked connecting door to the room. That figure was rushing toward the bed.
You don’t even see me on the floor, do you, asshole? That was the guy’s mistake. Saxon yanked out the knife from his boot, and he threw it. The blade sank into the fellow’s shoulder and he let out a pain-filled yell.
The sound immediately woke Elizabeth and she jerked up-right with her own scream.
But Saxon was already moving. The knife hadn’t taken out their unwelcome visitor, and the guy was lifting his weapon. Saxon launched his body at Elizabeth and they rolled right off the bed even as the blast of gunfire filled the room.
When they hit the floor, he was on top of Elizabeth, their bodies pressed intimately close. “Don’t move,” he ordered, but he didn’t have time to make sure she obeyed. Keeping low, he rushed back toward the jerk who’d snuck into the room—the jerk who was way too damn trigger happy. Saxon moved fast and used his strong night vision to his advantage. When the guy tried to swing his weapon toward Saxon, it was too late. He grabbed the guy’s wrist, twisted until he heard the snap, and the gun fell to the floor. Then Saxon yanked the knife from the guy’s shoulder and put it at the fellow’s throat.
That move stopped the idiot from fighting him.
“Who the hell are you?” Saxon demanded.
The lights flashed on around him. What the hell?
He glanced back over his shoulder. Elizabeth had moved. She was standing up, and she’d been the one to turn on the lights.
The guy in his grasp started laughing. “Doesn’t matter who I am. You’re the dead one. Dead, dead—”
Saxon yelled, “Get down!” to Elizabeth at the exact same moment he yanked the laughing bastard in front of him, using the guy as a human shield. A second later, gunfire erupted, littering the motel room. The man’s body jerked against Saxon when the bullets hit him. Bullets that had been intended to kill Saxon…and Elizabeth.
When the gunfire stopped, he dropped the guy. The man was still alive, but Saxon wasn’t sure how long that would be the case without medical intervention. Saxon crawled for Elizabeth as fast as he could. Be alive. Be alive! Once the gunfire had erupted, he’d heard no sound from her.
The lights were still on. Too bright. Giving whoever was outside too much of an advantage. The thin shade would be no help—any watchers outside would be able to see right through it with those lights blazing.
“Elizabeth?”
She jerked at his whisper. She’d curled up into the fetal position, with her hands over her head. Her eyes found his, and he hated to see the tears glistening in her green stare. “What’s happening?”
“Someone’s trying to kill us, sweetheart.” That one was fairly obvious, but his words weren’t mocking. Elizabeth looked as if she might be in shock, and he needed her to try and keep things together, for just a little while longer. “And we have to get the hell out of here.” Because he didn’t know just how many someones were waiting outside. He did know the man moaning on the floor. When the light had flashed, he’d recognized the guy. That was one of Taggert’s goons. Tommy Haines. One of the guys who’d been at The Blade when Saxon had taken Elizabeth away. Taggert had sent out his attack dogs, and their mission must be to bring down Saxon and Elizabeth. By any means necessary.
He took her hand in his. “We’re going out the back. Stay with me, got it?”
She nodded.
Then she crawled after him as Saxon made his way to the bathroom. The “back” exit was actually the window in the bathroom. One that was a bit too narrow, but it would have to work. He’d put his knife back in its sheath, and he’d taken Tommy’s gun. They weren’t going out there unarmed, and he sure as hell wouldn’t hesitate to fire if they came under attack.
“I’ll go through first,” he told her, the words barely a breath of sound. “Then you come out when I tell you, got it?”
The bathroom was dark, so he couldn’t see if she was still crying or if she’d turned ashen with horror, but he heard her whisper, “Got it.”
That was good enough for him. He shoved open the window, punched out the screen, and climbed out. He hit the ground with a hard roll, and he came up with his knife gripped in his fist. But no one was there.
He heard a loud crash then, the sound of wood splintering, and Saxon knew the reason no one was waiting out back—it was because the bastards had just broken into the motel room.
“Now!” Saxon called to Elizabeth. “Come to me, now!”
She jumped through the window and straight into his arms. Over her shoulder, he saw two men running through the motel room. Oh, yeah, he knew those bastards, too. He’d seen them plenty at The Blade. Flint Mayo and Romeo Gustav. Errand boys for Taggert. Or in this case, hunters for the SOB.
Saxon caught her, holding her tight, and he didn’t even pause. He pushed her behind him, lifted his weapon, and fired. Flint and Romeo dove for cover, and while those guys were covering their asses, Saxon and Elizabeth started running hell fast for the line of cars that were parked nearby. They had to get out of there.
He hit the old parking lot even as he heard shouts behind him. He put Elizabeth on her feet, and he punched in the window of the closest vehicle. Glass rained down and he shoved the chunks out of his way so that he could unlock the door.
“Saxon—”
He pushed Elizabeth into the truck.
Getting inside the vehicle had been the easy part.
Getting the old truck to move…before they got their heads blown off…
Tricky.
His hands went to work under the dashboard.
Bam! Bam!
Two bullets had just slammed into the side of the truck.
But Saxon had just succeeded in hot-wiring the ride, and the truck’s engine was growling to life. He shifted gears, reversed fast and hard, and sent their attackers scrambling for their lives. Then he slammed that gas pedal all the way against the floorboard and got them the hell out of there.
Taggert’s men had found them, but they would be running back to their boss empty-handed.
A red light was up ahead. Saxon didn’t even slow down. He raced through it. Then he turned to the left. A few moments later, he took a hard right. He would make sure no one followed his trail.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded. Things had moved so fast that he hadn’t been able to check and make sure none of those flying bullets had hit her.
“No.” Hushed. Then… “How did they find us?”
“Taggert has his men looking for you.” She was obviously a prize that Taggert wasn’t going to let go. “In this town, people will sell out their own mothers for the right amount of money. Someone saw us, someone with the wrong connection to Taggert’s men.” One possible explanation and the only story he’d give her right then. The second explanation? Well, that would be that someone in the FBI had sold them out to Taggert. Victor’s team would have known about Elizabeth’s extraction from that bar. They would have known about her temporary safe house at the motel.