a very close brush with death.
She jolted when Jake’s hands closed around her arms and squeezed them. “It’s okay,” he said.
“I stabbed him.”
“You saved my life. He didn’t give you a choice.”
Intellectually Leigh knew he was right. But on a more emotional level, nothing had felt right about sinking a knife into a man’s flesh. Even if the man had had it coming.
“Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?”
“I…took a class. A couple of years ago.”
“Must have been one hell of a class.” He was running his hands up and down her arms. Talking to her. Trying to bring her back from the brink of shock.
Both of them jumped when the elevator chimed. Jake spun. As if in slow motion she saw him slide the gun from its sheath. With his other hand, he took hers.
“Run!” he shouted.
The next thing she knew she was being dragged down the hall toward the stairwell. But it was the sight of the two men stepping off the elevator that snapped her back to reality. At first glance she thought they were deputy marshals from the Witness Security Program. Then she noticed their guns and knew the situation was about to take a hard turn for the worse.
The first shot snapped through the air with the violence of a lightning strike. Sheetrock exploded off the wall two feet to her right. A hot whiz ignited the air just inches from her ear.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
The stairwell at the end of the hall seemed a mile away. There was no cover. No place to run. All Leigh could think was that they were sitting ducks.
“I said run, damn it!”
She looked over at Jake and saw fear in his eyes, felt that same fear rampaging through her. She didn’t think they were going to get out of this alive.
Then she caught a glimpse of red coming through his coat. Blood, she thought, and the fear ratcheted into terror. “Jake! Oh my God! You’ve been hit!”
The only response she got was the frenzied pound of her heart.
Chapter Three
“If I go down, you keep running!” Jake shouted. “You got that?”
“Don’t go down,” she panted.
He gave her a look and cursed. Leigh figured he already knew she wasn’t the kind of person who left someone behind. Even if she didn’t necessarily like that someone.
Shifting the gun, Jake took aim and shot out two wall sconces, throwing them into darkness. Cover, Leigh thought, and a sliver of relief went through her. At least they were no longer sitting ducks.
Shouts and heavy footsteps sounded behind them. White flashes exploded as gunfire erupted. Leigh ran at a reckless speed. But Jake urged her to go faster. At some point he’d forced her ahead of him. Belatedly, she realized he was keeping himself squarely between her and the gunmen.
They reached the end of the hall. Jake hit the stairwell door with both hands. The door flew open and banged against the wall. They burst into the stairwell. There was just enough light for Leigh to see the pipe rail and concrete steps. She was halfway down the first flight when she realized Jake wasn’t beside her. She stopped and looked up to see him put his fist through the firefighter emergency box mounted on the wall. Glass exploded. She saw blood on his knuckles.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking out a little insurance.” He yanked the coiled hose from its nest. “Go! I’ll catch up.”
She managed a few more steps before stopping. She looked back to see Jake ram the steel nozzle of the firefighter hose through the door handle and secure the other end to the stair rail, effectively locking out the men. He quickly tied off the hose. Banging sounded on the other side of the door, followed by gunshots. “That ought to buy us a couple of seconds,” he muttered dryly and took the steps to her two at a time.
“Let’s hope there’s not a welcoming committee waiting for us outside.”
He met her on the landing. “I told you to keep moving.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
The next thing she knew her hand was in his and she was barreling down the stairs, taking two and three steps at a time, certain she was going to fall at any second.
When they reached the ground level, Jake darted to the stairwell door and shoved it open. Winter rain greeted them with a cold, wet slap.
“My car’s on the other side of the parking lot,” Leigh said.
Heavy footsteps sounded from the stairwell above. Rasmussen’s thugs had broken through.
“We’ll take mine,” Jake said. “Let’s go.”
They sprinted across the parking lot to an SUV the size of a tank. Jake punched the remote. “Climb in and hit the deck.”
Leigh ran to the passenger side door, yanked it open. Jake was already behind the wheel, turning the key, shifting into gear. “Get down.”
She glanced toward the motel in time to see two men burst from the door she and Jake had just exited. She heard shouts. Several muffled pops sounded.
“They’re shooting at us!” she said.
Jake shoved her head down. “Stay the hell down!”
Then the SUV shot forward like a racecar out of pit row. A volley of shots splintered the air. Jake yanked the wheel hard to the left. A bullet blew a hole through the windshield. Glass rained down on Leigh. She peeked up to see tiny white cracks spreading like a network of capillaries across the windshield.
“Hang on!” Jake hit the gas. “This is going to be rough.”
The SUV jumped the curb, bouncing wildly over a hedgerow and flowerbed. He twisted the steering wheel, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the Dumpster, which screeched across concrete. Cursing, Jake swung the vehicle around and headed toward the street.
An abrupt and uneasy silence ensued, the only sounds coming from the hum of the engine and the hiss of tires against wet pavement. Nausea churned in her stomach and for an uncomfortable moment she feared she would be sick.
“Are you all right?”
Trembling, Leigh sat up. “I feel like I have to throw up.”
Jake glanced at her, his eyes dark with concern. “I can’t pull over.”
Feeling sweat break out on her forehead, she rolled down the window a few inches and let the cold air rush over her heated skin.
“Take some deep breaths,” he said.
She did, and slowly the nausea receded. In its wake, she was hit by the wrenching knowledge
