Page 105 of Weston’s Treasure

“Someone’s following her,” I told Nix. “Travis Yagger has Dale. Wants Silver in exchange.”

“Fuck,” Nix clipped.

“Micky says there’s been no calls to Ellis Hopper and she’s tracking Silver,” Holden added.

“I have to let him die,” Silver sobbed again and Weston’s vision clouded.

“Please calm down. I need you to drive slow and careful, Silver. We’re gonna get your dad.”

“I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Fucking hell, she was killing him.

“Almost there. Hold on, baby.”

“All of this is my fault.”

“There’s your Jeep,” Nix unnecessarily told Weston. He could see Silver’s hair flying in the wind three car lengths in front of them.

“I have another call coming in,” Silver told him.

“Don’t answer it. We’re right behind you.”

There was silence for a few beats, then Silver spoke. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“You did call, baby,” he reminded her. “Hang tight, it’s almost over. There’s a convenience store coming up on the left. Get ready to pull in.”

Weston watched as Silver turned on her blinker, the car right behind her doing the same.

“We need that plate,” Weston announced.

“On it,” Chasin said.

Silver made the left, the black pickup behind her doing the same. But when Silver pulled into the store’s parking lot, the truck kept driving down the small side street.

Nixon made his turn, pulled in behind Weston’s Jeep, and before the SUV had come to a complete stop, Weston was out rounding the back of his car to get to Silver.

Without a word, he unbuckled the seat belt and yanked her into his arms.

“Weston.” Her face went into his neck and her body shook, and on a wail she screeched, “I killed him!”

“Fuck, baby, fuck.”

He couldn’t think about her dad, where he was, or what he was going through. Silver was safe in his arms and that was all that mattered to him. All he could think about was that she’d called. She hadn’t given herself up to save her father.

The squealing of tires pulled Weston from his thoughts and the sound of automatic gunfire had him reacting. On instinct, he took them both down to the blacktop, rolled them so his body was covering hers, then rolled again, angling Silver under the Jeep.

There was another burst of bullets, glass shattering, his team shouting, but he lay motionless protecting Silver the best he could. When the second volley stopped, through the ringing in his ears, Weston heard Nixon call out for a SITREP.

Not until after Chasin, Jameson, and Holden yelled out they were not hit did Weston finally speak.

“Silver, baby?”

“I’m okay.”

“Roll back to me, sweetheart.”

She did as he asked and his breath caught when he saw the gash on her shoulder and scrapes down her bicep.