Fatal Fugue (The Deadlier Sex Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter Twelve

“Just stand there so I can look at you,” Hayley said breathlessly.

She was flat on her back, staring up at his muscled form. He was illuminated by the clear moonlight streaming in from the window on the opposite wall.

My god, he’s like a god.

All thoughts of escape seemed to drift away as she took in his gorgeous body. He smiled, and it was in that smile where she saw years of history and something far deeper than lust. It was love. This man loved her. A shiver went through her at the thought. It was disturbingly personal… and intense.

He stretched his back, and she watched those perfect abs twist and ripple. All hard muscle covered in ink. From atop his delicious pecs and over his shoulders wound intricate tattoo work. From a distance it looked like tribal work, but here in the cool blue light of the moon she saw it was much more detailed than that. Every swooping stroke, every spiral, and indeed, every sharp edge was filled with an intricate web of lines and symbols. It was breathtaking to behold. A masterpiece of artwork over a truly perfect canvas.

She wondered if any of it meant anything more than just art.

The sight of him there, all muscles and tattoos and smelling of sex, was overwhelming, and without knowing why, she felt a tear come to her eye and pressure in her sinuses.
What is this?
She was completely vulnerable without her memories. It wasn’t pleasant, and she needed to know the reasons why she felt that way.

“Jay, I—”

She never got to finish the thought. From the window behind her she heard a tiny
tink
of glass breaking. Right before one of Jay’s cheeks erupted in a bright gash of blood.

“Fuck!”

“Jay!” she squealed, as he cried out in pain.

“On the floor!” he roared at her, dropping down to the old wood planks. His face was gushing blood all over the place, but he ignored it.

“Oh shit, oh shit! What do I do?” She pressed to the floor as they were showered in glass and debris. Bullets whizzed overhead, slamming into the back wall and spraying drywall all over them.

“Calm the fuck down!” he yelled, then reconsidered when he caught her widening eyes. “I have to get my gun from my bag in the closet over there.” He motioned, tilting his head in the direction behind him. The closet too was bathed in the same moonlight that had betrayed his position.

“But… they’ll see you!” she cried, afraid to move.

“It’ll be fine!” he hissed. “I’m bleeding too much though; we won’t be able to hide with me leaking all over the damn place. I need you to army crawl into the bathroom. There’s a big metal first aid box under the sink. Drag it in here.”

She nodded nervously.

“Go, now, and for god’s sake, stay low to the ground.”

“Ok, ok,” she said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey,” Jay whispered, touching her shoulder. It was painful to look at him, with his cheek torn open and blood pooling beneath him, but she locked eyes with him, and in his gaze he held her, took her in his strong arms and squeezed her tightly. “I’m going to take care of you. It’s just a scratch.”

Hayley nodded, and for whatever reason, she knew he would. Something told her that this man, rock-hard sex god and trained killer, would die to keep her safe. With the comfort of his words in her ears, she set off at a slow crawl. The old wood floor scraped against her breasts, and twice she felt slivers stabbing their way into her knees. She swallowed down the pain and crawled, inch by careful inch. Now she was hearing sounds outside, sounds other than the desert night. She heard low murmurs in a language she didn’t understand and the sound of bodies moving just outside the cabin.
Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit!

Just stay low and focus on what you’re supposed to do.
She finally reached the bathroom—thank god the door was open—and pulled open the under-sink cabinet. Sure enough, there was a big white metal first aid kit. She dragged it out, trying and failing not to let the metal clang on the wood floor. She was backing out of the bathroom when someone grabbed her leg.

“Ahh!” she started to shriek, but stopped when Jay hushed her.

“It’s just me,” he said, sliding up into the doorframe by her. There was a bathroom window, but it was made of opaque blocks of thick glass. Jay propped himself up a little. “Okay, I need you to dress this wound as best as you can.”

“But I can’t see shit, Jay.” The moonlight that filtered through the tiny window was insufficient for the task.

“Well, you’re just going to have to. Grab a big non-stick dressing and a roll of tape.”

She did as he said, tearing open the big bandage.

“All right, stick it right on my face, over the wound, and hold it there.”

She did, wincing as he grimaced in pain when she applied pressure to the large, fresh laceration. The bandage immediately starting absorbing blood, but it did slow it down. Facial wounds bled so much, even if it was just a small slice. How did she know this? She wasn’t a doctor or nurse. Something told her she knew a lot more about wounds and injuries than she cared to recall.

“I don’t think this is going to be enough to stop the bleeding, Jay.”

“It will be fine,” he said, silencing her. “There are no arteries in the cheeks, so we just need to staunch it until it can be sewn up.” As she held the bandage in place, Jay started the tape and wound it around his head and over the bandage twice. “There, that should hold even if it gets soaked. This tape is sticky-ass shit.”

He looked like a war casualty now, like in the movies. Yet somehow, still sexy as hell.

“I can hear them right outside the cabin, Jay.”

“I know. Are you scared?”

“I am,” she said meekly.

Jay let out a sigh. “There’s not a single person in Las Vegas I can’t handle on my own.”

“But a whole group of them?”

He nodded. “That is the problem. That is the problem,” he mumbled to himself. “Stay here,” he said and slipped back into the bedroom. He came back a moment later with the sweats and shirt they’d picked up for her at a discount shop on the way there and tossed them in her direction. He also gripped a pair of black sweat pants, which he slid onto his muscled legs.

“It’s only fifty degrees out there, but these will be better than nothing.”

Hayley nodded, watching with disappointment as he covered up. He was one fine man, and every bit of flesh he exposed she had savored. It had felt so good inside her.

“Hey,” he whispered, catching her staring. He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. “There’ll be time for more of that later; get those clothes on.” He winked.

Her face turned scarlet, and she looked away as she grabbed the sweats, hoping he didn’t see her embarrassment in the dark. Hurriedly, she dressed. “So what now?”

Jay pulled up his small, black shaving bag. Only it wasn’t a shaving kit. Inside was a nine millimeter semi-automatic pistol, a couple of magazines, and two dark, pear-shaped objects that looked like—

“Are those grenades?” she hissed, suddenly terrified. As if the guys outside the cabin weren't enough.

“Concussion grenades. Pretty much really loud frickin’ fireworks. These are our ticket out of here.”

“How?”

“Well, the douchebags outside are either relying on their night vision scopes or simply their night vision. Either way”—he paused, holding one of the grenades up—“these are going to fuck up their world. Follow me.”

They army crawled to the front door. For a brief moment, her leg passed in front of a strip of moonlight on the floor, and she heard another
tink
of glass followed by a thick
thud
when a bullet slammed into the floor next to her.

“Be careful!” he whispered. Then they heard the sound of a radio by the front door. “Shit, they know we’re heading that way.”

Hayley was terrified, sliding across the floor behind Jay, watching his muscled ass as he pulled his body along in front of her. At least it was a good view. He waved her up to him and pulled himself to a sitting position with his back to the wall right by the door. She pulled up next to him.

“Listen,” he whispered. She could hear the nervousness in his voice. “There are going to be two eagle-eyes out there sniping, one in the back, one in the front. As soon as this goes off, everything is going to go batshit for about ten seconds. Just hold onto me, and whatever you do, don’t stop running.”

Hayley was nodding, her eyes flitting around the room. He reached out and took her chin in his hand.

“That’s all we have, Hayley.”

For some reason, the sound of him saying her name filled her with warmth and hope.

“So follow closely behind me. They’ll be expecting us to go for the car, but we’re not.”

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see. Just stay close.”

“Okay,” she huffed. He could be so bossy, but she was damn glad he knew what he was doing. Or at least he sounded like he did. It just made him seem that much sexier to her.

“All right, here we go,” he whispered. “One, two, three.” On three, he yanked the door open half a foot. As soon as he did, it was peppered with gunfire—close-range gunfire. He tossed out one grenade then slammed the door back shut as several bullets tore into the room.

“Hayley, cover your ears,” he cried, then tucked into a ball with his hands pressed against the sides of his head.

She squeezed her hands to her ears as hard as possible. When the grenade went off, the loud concussive blast blew into her and smashed into her brain. Even with her ears plugged it felt and sounded like someone had smashed her head in and blasted an air horn into her ears at the same time.

“Holy shit!” she screamed. Then Jay grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet. He opened the door, saw the smoke and several bodies in pain on the ground, then they were running, sprinting over the gravelly earth. As they ran, he flicked the last grenade behind them.

“Eyes and ears!” he screamed.

Hayley screamed as she ran blindly, covering her ears. The grenade went off, blasting them forward once again. The world fell silent before a violent ringing whooshed through her head.

Hayley’s heart beat madly as she pounded after him, desperately trying to keep up with his lithe form. Five seconds passed, ten seconds, then the ground at their feet erupted in gunfire. It seemed to come from every direction, and it was getting closer. The bombardment of noise slammed into them, and she winced as her ears opened to the painful eruption.

“Jay! They're going to hit us!”

“No, they’re not!” And at that moment he changed course, dragging her straight toward another cabin. It took the snipers a moment to readjust, and in that time he had pulled her behind the back of the building. There was an enclosure that held the campground’s smelly dumpster.

“Stay right here. I don’t think they can see us.”

He left her standing against the back wall of the cabin. Her chest was heaving with exertion and fear. Copper-tasting phlegm filled her throat, and she fought the reflex to cough it out.
Holy god, how did I get into this? Can’t I just have amazing sex without everyone trying to kill me?

Jay kicked through the door of the wood shed enclosing the dumpster. Chained inside was a big Yamaha VMAX motorcycle. He snagged the key from a hidden spot in the fence, and the bike’s big 1700 cc engine roared to life. He hit the gas and came spinning out of the enclosure.

“Jump on, now,” he called to Hayley, who was watching him with wide eyes. Just the sight of him, all muscled and tattooed up, hunkered over the big bike, made her insides twist in sweet, warm honey.

“Goddammit! What the hell are you doing, Hayley? Get on!” he yelled.

“Okay!” she snapped, hopping over the back of the bike and gripping his waist in a tight embrace against his back. It was warm and firm, and she pressed her cheek into it, afraid to look around.

Would they die tonight?

“We’ll never get away,” she whispered, shutting her eyes.

“Yes, we will. Quit it.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” There was no way he’d heard her over the snapping gunshots.

Jay laughed. “I’ve known you since you were a child, Hayley. You’re either excited, horny or despaired. Always one of those.”

“Hmph. Fuck you,” she grumbled, then the VMAX’s motor roared beneath her. He revved the engine up high, pushing the rpms until they reached his desired point. Bullets began to rain down around them—the hunters had caught up to them. Jay slammed the bike into gear, and 113 foot-pounds of torque tore into the desert beneath them, peppering the men running toward them with high speed gravel, like jagged bullets. The tire caught, and the big bike launched into the air, wheelieing up high under the full-throttle acceleration.

Holy shit, I’m going to pee my pants!
Hayley thought, gripping Jay’s torso with all her strength, her nails cutting into his chiseled sides. The bike set down and pounded away from the campground, straight into the black desert. It was the most exhilarating thing she had ever felt, almost as good as sex. Bullets continued to snap through the air around them, but Jay was juking and turning the bike, maneuvering in a serpentine way that prevented the gunmen from getting a good lock on them.