Trusting Love (26 page)

“What?” he demanded, swerving from looking over at her too quickly. “Then you can’t—”

“Kidding, kidding. Man, you are grumpy when you work.”

Was she enjoying this?
She answered with a sweet smile and blew him a kiss before she turned and leaned way too far out. Within seconds she fired at the SUVs. The shotgun was solid, and had a kick, but she knew how to wedge it up close to her shoulder to minimise the impact. He glued his eyes back on the dangerous curves ahead of them and off hers for only a moment before he yelled, “Just aim for the tyres!”

“What do you think I’m doing? Don’t be a back seat marksman.”

A back seat marksman?

Rowdy barked, nearly deafening him, but sounding like he was in agreement with Kris. Robert gave the dog a dirty look in the rear-view mirror, which the mutt ignored. His focus remained fixed on Kris. Robert’s was divided between the road, the crazy woman leaning out of the Jeep window, and the rear-view mirror.

The SUVs were gaining.

Her next shot hit the front tyre. The SUV went barrelling off to the left, hit the snow bank and flew over it, turning in a slow destructive circle mid-air when it did.

Kris slid back inside, breathless, rosy-cheeked and wearing a stunned expression.

“Did I just kill those people?”

“Nah, you didn’t kill them. That SUV is built like a tank, they’re fine. Jarred a bit, but fine.”

“You’re just saying that, but thank you, I think— Watch out!”

He turned back in time to realise he was too late to do more than pull the wheel to the right sharply and barely avoid the biggest part of the downed tree crossing the road in front of them. They roared over the smaller end and Kristen hit her head again, this time on the roof with a loud crunch. He pulled her in closer and cursed as the next turn hit them right after they had made it over the tree. They slid down the curve of it, made it around right when they heard the roar of the second SUV crash. He hoped into the bigger part of the tree.

“Do you think they made it past?” Kris whispered.

“I hope not,” he told her, manoeuvring down the snowy road. It was like running on ice with socks. “But don’t count on it,” he added.

“Robert, if I have to warn you another time about driving, I’m taking the wheel, Ironman or not.”

He laughed at the feminine little threat then cleared his throat when he noticed she’d merely lifted her sexy eyebrows at him.

“I’m good. The road is like slippery snow over ice, so it’s not as easy as I’m making it look.”

She snorted at his joke and glanced repeatedly behind them while she rolled the window up. “It’s freezing, so you
are
driving on ice. That’s why you have to keep your eyes on it, not everything else.”

“I like everything else way too much not to take keeping it in one piece seriously, darling.”

She smiled over at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Just be careful of the road when it’s like this.” She waved at the high wall of snow lining one side of the road and the sharp drop on the other side. “It’s dangerous.” She glanced behind them nervously. “Not that you’re not doing amazingly well.”

He snorted at the compliment, but caught her smiling at him and winked at her. The sound of their tail registered a few seconds later and she frowned back through the rear window.

“Wow, these guys are seriously pissing me off.”

“Put that window back down and see if you can’t show me who’s really amazing.”

“I thought I already had, this morning,” she said with a smirk when he glanced at her.

God, could she be more perfect?

“You did, now, mind on the mission, not me.”

“So this is a mission?”

“Out the window,” he reminded her sternly, unable to maintain the straight face when she looked so damn cute. “Missions are the worst things in the world, so no, this can’t be a mission. You’re in it, for one.”

“Oh, you are so earning brownie points, aren’t you?” she teased, scooting out of the window and settling the gun in position. She hung out there like a pro, barely losing the aim of the gun on the bumpy road. She’d angled her leg so her boot was firmly on the floor of the Jeep to steady the gun, he noticed. She also worked quickly, not wasting time, and hit what she aimed for, probably because the gun was too heavy for her. She fired twice and grumbled about his driving on the second miss. “Just a bit less like I’m on a rollercoaster, please, I’m not Hercules, you know.”

He kept in the grin but tried to keep the ride steadier for her. It paid off, he heard her next shot hit true when the SUV careened against the side of the road and like a pinball, it hit the other wall of snow before she shot again and the engine took a hit. Smoke billowed up and she sat back down looking so damn pleased with herself he laughed.

“Damn, woman, you can shoot!” He wanted to kiss her so badly he couldn’t stand to look at her so he kept his eyes on the road.

“I learned from Sam. He’s a good man,” she finally said, sounding like she’d lost some of her spark. Her eyes were distant when he looked away from the road long enough to gauge her expression. “He understands a lot, for an old guy.”

“He means a lot to you.”

She glanced over and frowned softly. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

They drove in silence after, the road so dangerous he nearly slid off it several times, but neither of them said much over it. He guessed shooting at the vehicles had registered with her. Maybe he’d not been fair asking her to do it, but she’d done well. She’d remained calm and even leaning out of the Jeep had kept him on his toes.

Something else occurred to him too as he kept busy with the road.

Not once had he lost his temper.

Was she right?
Did she know him better than he knew himself? The quiet way she’d said that made it clear she meant more than here and now. She’d also questioned his volatile temper enough to make him re-examine his own beliefs. She was the kindest woman he’d ever met. She didn’t limit her giving to those around her, but reached out to others. Much like Mandy did. His sister would never harm someone like Sarge had. She’d never strike her child. He knew that to the bottom of his soul. Then why did he fear he would with the same amount of conviction?

“Ouch!” Kristen murmured when he turned too sharply. Her smile, though, didn’t add blame. “This road is horrible.”

What if they made a child together? Just the thought sent off an ache in his chest for what he’d never have. He’d made sure of it. But if he’d not, if he could create a child, he’d love that baby with every piece of his heart this woman didn’t own.

He’d never harm his child.
Their child.
He felt like she’d punched him in the gut.

“Oh God! Robert!”

Her cry matched the one he felt internally as they hit black ice and spun out of his control. “I got it, I got it, Kris.”

But he didn’t. He could feel it even as he let the wheel turn into the spin and eased on the brake. There was no brake and there was no stopping the spin to the edge.

“Grab onto me, come here, now!”

He didn’t wait, but tucked her head into his chest and wrapped his arms tight around her, bracing his legs for what he knew would be impact with the creek below them. The Jeep had slowed down but with a silence only broken by Rowdy’s whine, they went over the edge.

Chapter Eighteen

“You’re certain of this, Ms Petrova?”

Sonya tilted her head, examining the man she’d gone undercover to ferret out.

David Petersen, known as Duke, was a man of power and odd views on the world. He’d been born into wealth and had grown up not being denied anything. Until he’d reached the age of thirty-seven, he’d partied like most of the playboy elite then he’d fallen in love and married Victoria Klein. The two of them not only shared their German ancestry dating back to Prussian times, but were highly involved in the upper elite of the world. They were also romantics, with an odd twist. They thought they could use genetics to create perfect couples—complete with high sex drives and perfect bodies—a Match.com for the beautiful people of this world.

Too bad he’d sent a rabid dog in with his beautiful plans.

“I’m absolutely certain. I wouldn’t be here now, giving you this intelligence, if I wasn’t.”

He nodded and glanced at his perfectly gorgeous wife. Victoria had paled, but of course she looked just as beautiful. Duke stroked her hand, clearly upset by the file on Walters.

She’d not been pleased either. The man had given her the creeps since day one, but confirming why had made her sick.

Eric Walters was a douche, clearly thinking his actions were above reproach because he targeted women. She was certain the dozen reports she had found describing him down to the two tattoos on his chest were only a small percentage of the actual brutality he had visited upon women. He got off on causing pain, or as one victim wrote, ‘teaching them a lesson’. She’d thrown up a little in her throat at the description of just how he accomplished that. She knew lots of couples enjoyed BDSM, knew a few people that fell into that kink, but what Walters did wasn’t a Dom to a sub. He wasn’t out to please his sub through his actions. He was out to please himself. His disgusting actions rubbed too close to what she’d experienced to sit well with her. If she had her way, she’d take him out herself.

“I have word McNeil has got by him. It will take time to retrieve the team now. I will—”

Sonya held up a hand and Duke frowned, but cut off. If McNeil was Walters’ target the man was as good as dead. McNeil wasn’t going to let a fumbler like Walters get the drop on him. One of Walters’ biggest flaws was his enormous ego. He thought more of himself than was rational. That would work to her benefit and McNeil’s.

“Let him carry on. McNeil will take care of the problem for you. Eric Walters is no match for a man like McNeil, but your men, no offence intended, are no match for Walters. He’s made a career of killing and can do so with anything, at any time. Your men don’t have that kind of skill set, drugs or no drugs.”

“And McNeil does?”

“Absolutely. More, in my opinion, than a man like Walters can ever know. Walters is first and foremost arrogant. That is one reason he preys on women. His ego is greedy and demands reassurance that he’s powerful. The more barbaric he can become and have a woman beg for more, the more powerful he is. In a fight, he’s unable to gain that power but tries to by playing with his opponent. McNeil isn’t full of ego. He kills when given no other option.”

Duke narrowed his blue eyes at her words, and she waited for the load of bullshit he’d feed her.

“He would make a perfect member of our team.”

She nodded. “He would, but you’d have to convince him.” And if he took the time to convince McNeil, his life would be over soon after. McNeil wasn’t a man to switch sides. He wanted the DNA cocktail off the grid and buried. He’d lost a buddy to the drug, and from what she’d heard, he’d suffered as much as she had on the toxic brew. He’d listen to Duke, but then he’d kill the man. From all she’d learned about where McNeil had been these past four days, she knew he’d kill Duke because he’d threaten the life McNeil was now starting with Kristen Reynolds. Duke was powerful—a romantic elitist who wanted some super beautiful race of people—but his wealth blinded him. His money alone would pose a threat to McNeil that no solider would leave behind.

Duke didn’t know any of that, though, so he smiled, looking as if he thought the challenge of convincing McNeil was all that stood in the way of his plans.

Sonya let him. If she was right, McNeil would kill Walters, Duke and his men, freeing her from the last of the promises she’d made so she could do what everyone else she knew was doing—begin a new life, free of the Sentinels and the toxic drug still lingering in her system.

* * * *

Kristen tugged at Robert’s unmoving body, trying to shake him into waking up. He didn’t make a sound.

“Robert McNeil, if you die on me I will never, never forgive you!” She dragged him into her arms and hugged him tight, crying his name into his warm throat. “You can’t do this, not now, not now. Robert! Please, please, I mean it. I will hate you forever for making me love you then die on me.”

He stirred and her eyes washed with tears of relief. “Darling, slow down, give a man—”

She cut him off with another cry and cupped the sides of his warm face to see if she was dreaming or if he’d really spoken. He gave her an odd smile then winced.

“Hell if a man wants to hear a woman loves him and hates him in one sentence. You need to work on that,” he grumbled. “But I’m not dying, I’m fine. My head hurts like an elephant stomped on it—”

“Oh. Robert!” She flung herself at him again and hugged him as tight as she could around his neck, careful of his stomped-on head. “I thought you were—”

“I’m sorry, darling, the hit on the noggin threw me, but I’m fine now,” he murmured, holding her tight. He kept her that way for a long, warm moment, easing the dreadful experience until her heart slowed its frantic beating and she could breathe again.

“You’re okay, Kris?”

“I’m fine. But,” she stopped and brushed her tears off on his shoulder. “I think we’ve broken my Jeep.”

Robert chuckled and kissed the side of her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a brand spanking new model.”

“Oh,” she glanced at him and saw his half smile. “That’s okay, I like the older models, like you,” she teased.

“Hell, I’m not old,” he said, rubbing his head. His focus was on everything she noticed and scooted off his lap. The river they’d landed in was frozen, shallow where they had hit and luckily only a few feet down from the road. He’d hit his head so hard because he’d been protecting her.

“No, you’re perfect. Now, let me see your head,” she said.

He gave her a frown for that and sighed when she moved back over. The gash was long, though she didn’t think deep, but he’d have a big goose egg and he’d blacked out. The blood had scared her terribly, but now that she looked at the wound closer it was nothing compared to the gunshot wounds he’d already healed from.