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“What are we going to do?” Rachel asked.
Shane took advantage of their situation by nipping lightly at her ear. She sucked in an unsteady breath, and he felt her quiver in his arms. “We’re going to head to the food court and maybe check out a couple of those souvenir shops. Don’t look at him and don’t lose your cool. There’s probably another man by the front gate.”
A rush of adrenaline shot through his system, but he tamped it down. It was what he missed most about his previous jobs—the chase, the thrill of excitement, and the chance that only one man would be left standing in the end. Shane grabbed Rachel by the hand and they strolled to the food court, stopping to grab an ice cream on the way.
Shane picked up another follower out of the corner of his eye and squeezed Rachel’s hand when she started to turn and look at him. “You’ve only got eyes for me, sugar.”
“That’s a hell of an ego you have.”
“I’ll be glad to back it up once we get out of here.”
The sun was shining and Shane thought it was probably close to eighty degrees outside, but both men wore lightweight jackets to cover their shoulder holsters. Not good. The last thing he wanted to do was give them reason to open fire in such a crowded place.
Shane spotted several souvenir shops that were overrun with tour groups, and he gently pushed Rachel into the crowd. The air was cool inside the shops and sent chills over his sweat-slicked skin. Tables were filled to overflowing with T-shirts and knickknacks, so he took his cap off and put it on a display table and replaced it with a straw hat, hoping it would buy them some time. He didn’t stop to look over his shoulder, though the itch at the back of his neck had turned into a burn. Shane picked up the pace when he saw an employee entrance behind one of the souvenir shops that led to a parking lot, and he kept Rachel in front of him, protecting her body with his own.
People scrambled and screams filled the air as the first sound of gunfire rang out behind him.
“Go, go!” he yelled to Rachel. “Stay low.”
Wood splintered above Shane’s head and a splinter sliced his cheek. Blood dripped steadily down his face, but he ignored it and kept his eye on the prize—a way out and their only chance for survival. He knocked over tables as he passed them and souvenirs littered the aisles.
Shane and Rachel pushed through the door at the back of the shop and the bright sun left tiny spots dancing in front of his eyes, but they forged ahead, adrenaline and instinct taking over. Another shot rang out and chips of concrete exploded in a cloud of dust at their feet.
“Almost there,” Shane said, eyeing the gate of chain link that led into the employee parking lot at the back of the zoo. Sirens roared in the distance, overpowering the screams and sobs of the crowd behind him. Rachel ran full force into the gate and it swung open with a violent clang of metal hitting metal. The gate crashed behind him and he knew the men were hot on their heels.
“Keep running. Don’t look back,” he said to Rachel.
Shane hovered his body over hers and pushed her between a row of parked cars, forcing them both to their knees on the hot pavement. Rachel’s breath was labored and her eyes were wide with fear, but she was hanging in there. Shane pulled a snub-nosed revolver from his ankle holster and listened as the footsteps of the men in pursuit slowed. There were still just two men, and Shane heard them split up so they could cover more ground.
The seconds ticking by seemed like hours and he knew there would only be a short window of opportunity for them to escape. He and Rachel crawled between the cars, listening as the footsteps drifted closer, then farther away as the men crept up and down each aisle.
Shane slipped a small, thin tool from his pocket and went to work on the silver Taurus they were hiding beside. The lock snicked and he opened the door softly, pushing Rachel across the seat to the passenger side and then following her inside. He pushed her down, so she was hunkered on the floorboard, and he removed the plastic panel from the underside of the steering wheel.
The footsteps were getting closer again and sweat snaked down his spine as he touched bare wires together. The car rumbled to life and he pushed down on the accelerator. Tires squealed and the smell of burned rubber was overpowering as he shot out of the parking space. A bullet pinged off the back bumper and then another shattered a taillight. Shane pulled the driver’s side door shut and sat up slowly as he put more space between them and the gunmen. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the men slow to a stop. One of them already had a cell phone in his hand, probably relaying the license plate of the car they’d stolen.
Rachel sat up in her seat and calmly fastened her seat belt once they were back on the highway. “I guess we’re going to be a few minutes late meeting Mr. Marsh.”
Shane looked over at her. Her hair was mussed, her clothes were torn, and there was dirt smeared on the side of her face, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she was glad to be alive.
“You’re a hell of a woman, Rachel Valentine.”
ChapterFive
Dusk was slowly creeping over the city by the time they’d found another vehicle. Smog was thick and glowed an eerie orange haze as the last rays of light disappeared. They’d found a green Ford Explorer in an overnight parking garage and taken it as a sign of luck. Traffic was congested as they wove their way down one-way streets and between skyscrapers, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief as they got closer to her goal and freedom.
She’d had eight months to decide what she could do with her life once the axe hanging over her head had disappeared. New Orleans had felt like home from the moment she’d entered the city, and she knew it’s where she would return. Maybe she’d even open her own design business. But those dreams were still a lifetime away.
“I had to leave the bag with my weapons and most of the money in the pickup truck,” Shane said, disturbing her private thoughts. The more she was around Shane Quincy, the more disturbing he became. He was an odd combination—all male, potently virile in a way that made women gravitate toward him, and his protective instincts only enhanced his appeal. But though those traits were attractive to Rachel, they weren’t the ones that made her want to open herself to Shane Quincy like she had to no other man. He was wounded, a tortured soul, and Rachel recognized the symptoms in Shane only because she lived with them in herself.
“Did you hear me?” he asked. “We have little money and no guns.”
“I have a feeling you’re trying to tell me something,” Rachel said, finally giving him her full attention.
“I’m telling you we have to get where we’re going on the money I have in my pocket, or until I can get in touch with my friend and have him meet me with a few necessities. I don’t want to take the chance of being seen by going back to the zoo and trying to retrieve the bag, and I especially don’t want to bodyguard my client with a pissant .22 and six bullets.”
“No, that doesn’t really inspire a lot of confidence,” she agreed. “Can’t you have your office send you the things you need?”
“Anything they send can be easily traced. I’ve got good security, but people will be watching my office closely since your pal shot the hell out of it. My old squadron leader from the Marines will get us everything we need without alerting anyone.”
