Polar Bared (10 page)

Which turned out to be a good thing.

“Stay down,” Gene yelled. “Someone’s shooting at us.”

Sure enough, he’d no sooner announced it than something hit the snow inches from her head, spraying her with tiny particles of ice.

Before she could yelp, or faint, Gene was there, hauling her to her feet and firing a weapon of his own into the darkness.

How did he go from naked to dressed and armed?
The man kept surprising her with his versatility, not to mention his cool head. Someone was shooting at them, and he didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Was there anything that daunted him?

“Stop daydreaming, Pima, and move.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She ran the rest of the way to the sled as Gene popped off another round. It was answered, the reply shot whizzing just over her head as she stumbled.

Lucky again. But how long before her luck ran out?

“Get in the sled and duck down.”

No problem. Vicky scooted into the open spot among the bundles and hung low, not even daring to peer over the edges. She did gulp, though, as something hit the sledge and punched a hole in its side. It missed her but lodged in one of the packages.

“Hold on. I’m going to get us out of here,” Gene announced as he hopped onto the snowmobile and gunned it. With a loud roar from the engine, the snowmobile took off, the sudden lurch sending her teetering. She fell against the bundles at her rear, but stayed there, fear freezing her limbs.

But, hey, I’m awake.

For now. With icy terror running through her veins, Vicky knew she’d have to rein in her emotions or risk passing out again, which might not be a good idea.

I have to remain conscious.
For some reason this mattered, whether to prove to herself she could face calamity or to show Gene she wasn’t dead weight. It didn’t matter what the reason. She had to stop letting her problems overwhelm her. Time to start facing things, even unpleasant ones, eyes open.

The gunfire seemed to have ceased, but still Vicky didn’t dare sit up. Bravery didn’t mean acting stupid. Gene said to stay low, and as he was a guy who appeared to have survived worse situations than this, she’d trust his judgment. After all, because of him, she wasn’t dead, yet, despite the many attempts.

And what the heck was that about?

Surely whoever hated Gene wasn’t so desperate as to keep targeting her? It made no sense. The guys in her expedition who’d gone after her didn’t even know she’d met him when they signed on. But Mullet had suspected something when she came back from her overnight adventure.

It put their conversation in a whole new light. Had Hairy and Mullet, or the rest of their gang, spied upon her chance meeting with Gene?

Had they come along with the group as some kind of cover to their underlying mission of hunting out Gene and killing him?

Gulp.
What have I gotten involved in?

And why couldn’t she keep from thinking it was the most exciting thing to have ever happened to her? Almost as exciting as Gene’s kiss—and hot, naked butt.

Just when she thought they’d escaped danger and she could breathe easy, lights caught them, a pair, bobbing and bouncing and closing in behind them. Gene gunned the motor to little effect. Weighted down with the sled, which didn’t just carry supplies but one chubby Latina—who really enjoyed her second helpings—he couldn’t hope to outrun the chasing pair.

“Fuck!” Gene’s expletive came to her even over the sound of rushing wind and the engine. “Hold on tight, Pima. Things are about to get rough.”

Okay, maybe now was a good time to pass out, and before she threw up the contents of her tummy because he wasn’t kidding about rough. The snowmobile sloughed to the left then the right, sending the sledge fishtailing.

She closed her eyes tight and flattened herself as much as she could on the bottom.
I’ve been on worse roller coaster rides.
But those lasted only a minute or so. This went on and on.

Shots rang out, sharp cracks and not just from those chasing behind them. Through a peeping eye, she saw a muzzle flash as Gene, half turned in his seat, returned fire. Thank goodness out here on the icy plains they didn’t have to worry about trees. But there were uneven humps.

They hit one, and for a moment, Vicky floated, airborne, before slamming back down among the bundles with an oomph.

“Oops,” Gene said, sounding apologetic.

It almost made Vicky laugh. She bit back a hysterical giggle, which was better than a sob. Not that she was close to crying; on the contrary, she was wide-awake, hanging on for dear life and praying the next bump they hit wouldn’t tip them.

To think, only a few hours ago she was bored out of her mind. For a girl who didn’t particularly enjoy action flicks, she was certainly living one.
I would have preferred falling into a romantic comedy. One with a beach, sand, and Gene accidentally losing his bathing suit and emerging from some waves.

Despite that, she couldn’t say she was hating the adventure. Being with Gene, even under attack, beat the doldrums of hanging out alone in her tent. Maybe once they lost their pursuers they’d have a chance to cuddle again. To keep warm of course. Maybe kiss. As a thank-you. Or she could try something more daring.

Pop
. The latest round that whistled overhead deflated that pleasant bubble of thought.

“I can’t outrun them,” Gene announced over his shoulder. “We’re going to have to stop and let them catch us.”

“What? Are you out of your mind? Those guys are trying to kill us.” Forget trusting him, she questioned his crazy idea.

“Exactly. So I’ll just have to kill them first.”

Said without the slightest hesitation. “You’re nuts.” She breathed it under her breath.

He should have never heard it over noise of the engine, but apparently he caught it because he replied. “Nuts? More like psychotic. Or, as my therapist used to say, incapable of channeling my anger and acting out inappropriately.”

He called killing people acting inappropriately?
And this is the man in whose hands I’m placing my life?

Maybe she was the one in need of a therapist.

Gene cut the engine before they’d come to a full stop and, with their momentum, spun the snowmobile so it faced the oncoming headlights. She didn’t need his shouted advice of, “Keep your head down,” to tuck it between her trembling knees.

Breathe in. Breathe out. She concentrated on that simple task as the rumble of motors got louder. Closer. Scarier.

She clenched her eyes tight, almost wishing oblivion would take her before a heart attack did.

Bang.

With a sputter, one of the snowmobiles croaked. One pursuer taken out of the equation, leaving only the single whine of an engine pushed hard.

Boom.

The second snowmobile didn’t die, but given the human scream of pain, it seemed fairly evident the driver might.

Nausea had her swallowing and fighting to hold on to the roiling liquid in her tummy.

The crunch of snow had her rousing enough to lift her head in time to spot Gene heading toward both sets of headlights.

What’s he doing?

Going after them, dummy, just like he said he would.

Given the gun in his hand, he wouldn’t ask them nicely to go away.

Gulp.

The dead sled still had power, but wasn’t moving anywhere. The other, with the incapacitated driver, rumbled drunkenly but, given the angle of the light, appeared to have tipped on to its side.

Much like a gawker at the scene of an accident, Vicky couldn’t help but watch events unfold, eyes peeking over the edge, fingers clinging to the side. She stared, barely breathing as Gene bravely stalked toward the vehicles. Walked stupidly into danger given the lone figure that stood atop his snowmobile and shouted, “Just give us the girl. She’s the one we want.”

Me? They want me?
For some reason that didn’t give her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Where was wallflower obscurity when a girl needed it?

“And if I do hand her over, you’ll leave me alone?” Gene asked.

What? He wasn’t seriously contemplating giving her to those thugs? After all he’d done to save her? But then again, could she blame him? If they were in fact after her instead of him—incredible as it seemed—then why risk his life?

“The job we were given only mentions the girl. We got no bone to pick with you.”

“What job?” Gene asked as he stood in the bright glare of the headlight, gun held loosely by his side, his entire attitude one of relaxed nonchalance.

Vicky, on the other hand, shook like a leaf in the wind, her teeth chattered, and she really wished she’d had time to go potty before embarking on this madness.

It seemed further answers wouldn’t be forthcoming. “None of your fucking business. So we got a deal or not?”

“Not.”

Vicky could only watch in disbelief—and, yes, amazement—as Gene refused the deal in a very final fashion. In a blur of motion, his gun hand rose, and he fired. With a single bullet, he hit the guy who’d offered the ultimatum. As Vicky watched, he fell in slow motion to the ground. Dead.

Ohmygodhekilledhim.

Wide-eyed bravery be damned. She let darkness swallow her.

It didn’t take eyes in the back of his head to know Vicky watched. Vicky feared. Oh, and judging by the thump he heard, Vicky passed out. Good, it would make what Gene had to do next a little less traumatizing. To her at any rate.

With long strides, unhurried but not masked in any way, he approached the second snowmobile, his gun held at the ready. He needn’t have bothered. The second shooter and driver was in no shape to fight back. The human lay on the ground, one leg pinned under his snowmobile, his blood staining the snow as he whimpered.

“Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”

“Says the asshole who just seconds ago was shooting at an unarmed woman.”

“I didn’t want to. I was just doing my job,” he blubbered.

As if Gene cared.
This asshole was shooting at my Pima.
Apparently, it was something on the do-not-do list or you’ll piss off my bear. It was all Gene could do to stop his polar side from surfacing and tearing the fucker to shreds.

Killing the human, while momentarily satisfying, wouldn’t solve anything. Gene needed answers.

“What job?”

“I don’t know nothing. I wasn’t the one in charge.”

Wrong answer.

With a nonchalance he felt and didn’t have to feign, Gene leaned on the snowmobile, crushing the guy’s leg.

Once the human was done screaming, he asked again. “What job?”

Blubbering, the thug replied, “The job to kill the girl.”

Kill Vicky? But why? His Pima wouldn’t harm a fly, so he couldn’t see it as revenge. And why the elaborate scheming? “Where did you get this job? And from who?”

“I don’t know the exact details.”

He leaned and checked on the ammo left in his gun, reloading it with the bullets he found in the pocket while the idiot screamed.

After a few seconds he eased the pressure and waited for the idiot to talk.

“Randy was the one in charge. He’s the one who spotted the hit.”

“Spotted it where?”

“Online on a forum.”

“You mean you got a contract to kill Vicky off the fucking Internet?” Gene couldn’t help his incredulity.

“Of course. It’s how it’s all done nowadays.” Even in pain, the guy had the nerve to sound cocky.

“I know how it’s done.” He just didn’t understand the target. “How much was the job for?”

“Five hundred.”

“Dollars?”

“Thousand.”

Gene couldn’t help but whistle. Whoever wanted Vicky dead wasn’t playing around. Which meant there’d be other attempts. But it still didn’t explain the why. “Any idea why her death is so important?”

“Like I said, I wasn’t in on the deal. Randy just offered me some bucks if I helped. We was supposed to make it look like an accident.”

“So you were the ones who drugged her coffee?”

“We hoped she’d drink some and fall asleep when she went exploring.”

Where the low temperatures would make it look like she froze to death. “How were you supposed to collect?”

“Once her death was confirmed, Randy was supposed to call a number.”

A number Gene would wager led to a disposable phone with no way of tracing the owner. “What’s this forum’s name where the job was posted?”

“You pay them we slay them dot com.”

How tacky.

“Got anything else to say?”

“Nothing. I swear. This was just supposed to be an easy hit. Follow her to this fucking forsaken place. Make sure she had an accident and collect.”

“And then I came along and fucked things up.” Gene smiled.

The idiot smiled back. “Exactly. Nothing personal. Just business.”

His Pima was more than just business, and, yes, it was fucking personal. Gene aimed his weapon and the guy suddenly realized he looked death in the eye.

“Mercy, man. Please. I promise to not come after her anymore.”

“No you won’t.” Because Gene wasn’t one to leave loose ends. Nor did he show mercy. It wasn’t the villain way.

The gunshot echoed, but at least by shooting, he kept blood off his hands. He did so hate having to explain the stains when he went into town.

And to town they’d have to go if he wanted more answers.

Even though he’d eliminated this set of killers, Gene couldn’t return Vicky to the camp, not without knowing if more of them hid in plain sight waiting for their chance to net half a mill. He also couldn’t just stick her on a plane for home, wherever that might be. If these idiots were willing to brave the arctic for cash, then Pima wouldn’t stand a chance in the city. Not with that kind of payout up for grabs.

Five hundred K. A staggering amount for anyone, but not a temptation to Gene. Gene didn’t kill for money. When he took a life, it was to benefit one person only. Him. Him and his vengeance. Him and his need for violence. And now his need to protect.

Blech. Damned woman was proving more and more troublesome. A smart bear would dump her unconscious ass now and go his merry way. However, Gene needed only one look at her sleeping features, with her luscious lips slightly parted, her glasses askew to know he couldn’t abandon her.