Fugitive Pursuit. Christa Sinclair

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Fugitive Pursuit - Christa Sinclair Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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what?”

      “Before she died, Erin had left me a message. She started telling me stuff.”

      “About what?”

      Jamie shook her head. “I don’t know.” She returned to their path.

      Oh, she was definitely a bad liar. But getting the truth out of her would have to wait. Escape first.

      As they silently followed the path through the wooded grounds, Zack’s mind whirled with too many thoughts. None of them made sense. God, I know this bounty run has fallen apart, but I trust in Your guidance. If anyone could get Zack out of this mess, He could. Hopefully without Zack having to call in his siblings. Because the latest events would not go over great.

      Birds chirped as though nothing was wrong. A soft breeze took the edge off the heated afternoon. The scent of barbeque reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

      The last copse of trees opened to a large park. An area with slides and jungle gyms sat in the center of a bike and walking trail. Children’s laughter drifted toward them along with a puppy’s bark.

      “Hold up.” He bent over with his hands on his thighs. If his sense of direction was right, they were still in Champlain Park, the Ponahochet County side, nowhere near his truck. Thankfully his knee had held up in the escape, although a twinge of an ache from his surfing accident remained.

      Beside him, Jamie planted one hand on her waist. The other, the one with the injury, hung motionless. The backpack remained slung over her shoulder. Blood continued to drip from under her shirtsleeve. The stain on her shirt had morphed into a mini-explosive pattern. “We need to look at your arm.”

      Should he apologize for getting her shot?

      “Don’t worry about it.” A hint of blond peeked through the strands of her hair.

      “You’re bleeding. You look as white as a glass of milk. I’m waiting for you to pass out on me.” He pinched her shirt fabric.

      She jerked away. “Don’t.” The word bolted out of her mouth with as much force as the steel in her gaze.

      He froze, his fingers a few inches from her. For several moments, they stood at a standstill, but then her gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help and I do appreciate it.”

      For the first time, he truly saw the vulnerability of the woman standing before him. The difficulties of being on the run lay across her body, in her choices, through her movements. The bounty hunter in him wanted nothing more than to turn her in. The man in him wanted to tuck her under his arm and whisper everything would be all right.

      No caring allowed. Keep your mind on business. “Head for the bench over there and I’ll take a peek at your wound.”

      After a glance in the direction of the seat, she scanned the park. She remained rooted to her spot.

      “If you run, Jamie, I will catch you.”

      She brushed her fingers against her temple. He almost had her cooperation. He could feel it in his gut. But why was it so important to him?

      “All right.” She nodded and walked by his side to the wooden seat. The backpack came off her shoulder, but she kept a tight grip on it. Once she sat, he crouched down beside her and lifted her sleeve. Closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly. Blood had gathered along a gash about two inches long. “It doesn’t look too bad.” Seared flesh, but no hole. “The bullet grazed your arm. It’s not too deep and it’s not bleeding anymore. How does it feel?”

      “Like someone’s stuck me with a hot poker.”

      He gingerly touched his knuckle to the skin around her wound. She hissed, jerked upright. “Sorry.”

      “Do you have any tissues in your backpack or something to wipe your arm?” No way would he leave her side to grab paper towels from the restroom close by. He had no doubt she’d be gone before he returned.

      “No.” She tugged the backpack closer to her, one arm over it protectively.

      “What do you have in there? Gold? A wad of bills? Weapons?”

      “Some clothes.” Helplessness brought moisture to her eyes. “And things more important to me,” she whispered.

      He almost set his hand on her knee. Almost. “Like what?”

      “Pictures of my family, gifts my sister gave me as we grew up, her and my journals from when we were teenagers, things like that.” She sniffled and swiped her fingers beneath her eyes. “So, what’s the verdict on my arm?”

      “You’ll live.” He released the fabric and stood. “But from the actions of those two guys at your campsite, you’re in a lot more trouble than you realize. Definitely more than I thought.” After he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, he slapped it in his palm while he paced in front of her. No, he didn’t want to call his brothers. They’d probably tell him how foolish he was being, but he needed a clearheaded response.

      * * *

      Jamie’s world had shifted upside down, becoming more dangerous than she’d ever expected. “I’m not strong enough,” she whispered. She glanced at the red marks on her sleeve, then gently lifted the cloth away from her injury. The skin burned. Like Zack said, she hadn’t been shot, but it looked like the piece of metal had singed right past her on its way to a tree trunk. Her brain still shook with the reality of being so close to dying, to breaking her promise to her sister.

      The urge to hug her niece, to hold her close, took life within her. Did Charlotte wonder where Jamie was? It had been two and a half weeks since she’d left the child in another state with someone Charlotte had never met. Did she wish her aunt instead of Jamie’s best friend from elementary school was the one reading her stories as she drifted off to sleep?

      Jamie had expected life alone on the run to be challenging, but never had she expected bullets to be grazing her skin, or an attractive bounty hunter to be deciding what to do with her. He was comforting, with his quiet voice and his gentle touch. If she let them, thousands of thoughts could easily overwhelm—

      No. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and shook her head. He wasn’t her friend or a possible date. He was with her only because he wanted to collect the money he’d get for bringing her in to the authorities.

      Still, trusting him was a risk, but at the moment, she had no choice. Her ability to make sound decisions in such danger had grown weaker with each day.

      “Lil, I need to talk to Parker.” Zack stood before her with his phone stuck to his ear, his tone tense, his gaze scanning their surroundings. Seconds ticked by. “Hey, listen...Yes, I know, but I need you to stop for a minute. I need one of you to come pick me up on the Ponahochet side of Champlain Park...No, there’s no time to explain. You just need to make it as fast as you can...Parker, please. It’s important.” With a glance her way, he added, “And bring the first-aid kit.”

      He got off the phone and tucked it into his pocket. “They’ll be here soon.”

      With a push off the bench, she got to her feet and slung the backpack over her shoulder.

      Zack

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