AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She matched him, two strides to one, no unnecessary questions, following his lead without hesitation. They reached the woods as the bark of a tree splintered next to her head. Goddamn bastard. Any sliver of sympathy for Colin evaporated. Brick was going to dismember the fucker if he got the chance, and leave the remains on Jasmine and her children’s graves as a sacrificial offering.
He pulled Les in front of him, onto the faint impression of a deer path. “Keep running,” he ordered.
A crash in the woods a few strides later told him Colin was following. Unlike them, he’d crossed the field on a straight line. He didn’t have to avoid bullets. He also was too damn decent of a shot.
Brick had his weapon in his truck, a 9mm Glock. He’d never again go into a fire scene without wearing the damn thing, even if it was a Captain Obvious kitchen fire accident caused by a senile grandmother. But first he had to make sure he and Les survived his error in judgment.
In his earlier visits, Brick had followed the back roads to the fishing spot Colin had mentioned in his statement. His recollection of what lay ahead might save their lives. If they could get there.
Broad spears of sunlight through the trees announced the biggest obstacle—another open field. As the woods thinned out, he closed the distance between him and Les. “Run like the very devil,” he told her. “Run for the bridge.”
They burst out of the cover of the trees. Fifty plus feet of open area before they’d reach the dirt road and the truss bridge that spanned a tributary of the James River.
Another shot rang out, bringing the total to five bullets. Whether he had a ten or fifteen bullet magazine, Colin wasn’t wasting his shots, but for all Brick knew, he had additional mags. Brick stayed just behind Les, his weaving body blocking hers. Thank God his girl could run. She was giving it her all.
Another shot ran out, and she stumbled. His heart caught in his throat, but Brick wrapped an arm around her waist to lift her up against his hip. He lengthened his strides. He was terrified she’d been hit, but there was no time to look or determine if she could keep running on her own.
He’d plowed his way through defensive lines. He would ram the gates of heaven if needed. Too many hard heartbeats later, his shoes slammed down on the metal grating of the bridge. He ran for the middle, where the water would be deepest. He didn’t look, but he’d know when Colin had reached the bridge, too. They were hemmed in by the two sides, forming an optimal target chute.
The current was swift and strong, but the danger of that was the lesser evil. He swung her over the rail, setting her on her feet on the narrow ledge. The metal support structure gave them some cover. “Grab the railing.”
She obeyed as he came over it. She was scared, but—fuck, he loved her—her hand was on him, steadying him as he positioned himself next to her. Their time was measured in half-seconds. He met her wide hazel eyes.
“Let yourself get swept downstream. Make for the bank as soon as you can’t see the bridge. There will be a road somewhere nearby.”
He heard the hammering of feet on the bridge. The next bullet hit a vertical member beside him, setting off a shower of sparks. Blood bloomed on Les’s cheek, a ricochet.
Brick grabbed her hand and jumped. They fell toward the swift-moving water twenty feet below.
No. No! Brick’s grip was torn from hers as they landed. Les swallowed a cry and water as she went under, the latter cold enough to drive the breath from her.
She thrashed to the surface to find herself going downstream fast. Which meant she was likely out of Colin’s range for anything but a really lucky shot, but that was no longer her primary concern.
She couldn’t see Brick. Oh God. Please let him be okay. Right before they’d jumped, she’d noticed he was bleeding. Wet blood stained his shirt at his lower set of ribs and the upper abdominal area. He could be shot, in an area that would impact his spleen, the stomach or any of the complex surrounding areas. She needed to see, needed to check. Oh, God, where was he?
She gasped as she bounced off rocks hidden beneath the surface. Pain rocketed through her thigh. If she didn’t focus on swimming, she’d end up injured enough to drown.
He'd told her to get to the bank as soon as she couldn’t see the bridge. The strength of the current that helped put the bridge out of sight made that difficult. Adrenaline helped, but the waters were ruthless, cold and tumbling, driving her on their own path. She couldn’t touch bottom, only scrabble against rocks determined to tear skin and clothing. The current wanted to break bones against them.
Panic from the threat of drowning tried to grab her, but she refused to let it have her. She’d grown up swimming in creeks and rivers. Plus countless North and South Carolina beaches, on summer breaks with friends and family. Thomas had taught her to swim.
She conserved her strength, using his lessons on riptides. She stroked along with the current, gradually working toward the bank, wincing when she hit more rocks, was stabbed by underwater tree branches, but rolling away from them.
To keep the fear at bay, she imagined giving herself over to Brick’s control, applying herself to the direction they both wanted and needed to go. She could hear him telling her to get to that bank, or he’d go after her with his brush. Or that fascinating, fire-lit glove.
She kept scouring the area for him, but the eddies splashing into her eyes made it hard to see.
When her feet finally found the bottom, she was on her last energy reserves. The relief of solid ground made her sob. But as the water became shallower, it also became rockier. She fell several more times as she struggled toward the slope of damp clay and scrubby grass. Using handholds of vegetation to pull herself onto the bank, she collapsed, breathing hard.
She fumbled for the phone miraculously still in her back pocket, but the stubbornly dark screen told her its water-resistance feature hadn’t survived immersion in a river and bouncing down it like a pinball.
Colin might have jumped off the bridge, she realized. Or be running along the banks of the tributary, trying to catch up. Who could predict what a man insane enough to kill his girlfriend and her kids would do? She forced herself to her feet and struggled to a clump of brush and rocks, dropping down within its cover.
She forgot all of those precautions when she saw a person in the water, bobbing in the current like a lifeless doll. Or an unconscious man. “Brick.”
She scrambled out and was up to her thighs in the tributary, heedless of risking the current once more, when the body rolled in her direction. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she scrambled backward in pure survival instinct.
But her mind caught up, making sense of what she was seeing. She sat on the bank, legs sprawled before her, and stared into Colin’s lifeless eyes. She saw the bullet hole marking his temple. Then he was face down again and being carried away, at the mercy of the river.
