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“Cripes. That’s a lot to throw at me Fleet while I’m attempting to save our necks, but I get it. The words are on my tongue as well, and I won’t stop them, either. I loveyou. And as far as I’m concerned, this is the beginning of us, not the end. We’ll make beautiful babies, and I don’t give a fuck where we live, as long as we’re together.”
As amazing as all that was in the face of danger, Talia also managed to send him an impish grin. “How’d I do?”
“You make my heart smile,” he said despite his trepidation, already scoring the lyrics she’d inadvertently put in his head. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
As if she didn’t have a care in the world, Talia laced her arm through Fleet’s and hugged tight to his side. “Okay. Reach over and unzip my jacket,” she whispered.
He knew it was so she could readily access her firearm, which was in a concealed shoulder-holster.
Hoping his hands didn’t shake, he stroked her cheek, then dropped his fingers to make it look like he was copping a feel, but instead slid her zipper down all the way.
“Nice job,” she turned and kissed the underside of his chin while darting her eyes behind them. “He’s moving closer,” she warned. “When I give the word, I’m going to let go of you. The minute that happens, I want you to hit the ground, flat. Got it?”
“I can’t do—”
“Yes, you can,” she interrupted. “And you will. If I’m worried about you, I can’t do my job.”
Dammit.This was worse than the trust falls he’d had to endure during some of the festivals he’d been forced to attend with his bands. Only this time, gritting his teeth wouldn’t be to keep him from scoffing, it would be for worry.
“Okay,” he finally agreed. “But if it looks like you need help, I’m stepping in.”
“Don’t,” she clipped. “You’re just recovering from surgery. We don’t need to set back your timeline.”
“Tallie, they’ll be no recovery if we’re dead.”
She paused for a moment, then nodded. “Point taken. But only intervene if I call for help. Got it?”
Fleet crossed his fingers where she couldn’t see them. “Got it.”
The nearer toward the water they traveled, the more Fleet became aware of the person moving up behind them. Clearly, whoever it was had scouted the area before, and knew just where to strike before they were completely clear of the tree line.
Fleet held his breath and heard…
A growl.
Felt…
A launch.
Talia abruptly pushed Fleet away and it took everything in him to drop to the ground as she had ordered. But from his vantage point, he made sure he had a clear view up under the hood of their assailant as he tackled Talia.
“It’s a male,” he yelled to her, then saw the flash of a cylinder with a needle as the man pulled it from his pocket, sending a plethora of zip-ties flying. “He’s got a syringe,” Fleet roared.
Talia, ever aware and trained beyond anything Fleet could have possibly imagined, grabbed the man’s wrist in one hand and forced it backward until…
The lethal injection—if that’s what it was—dropped to the dirt and luckily rolled Fleet’s way.
Without hesitation, he grabbed it up and lobbed it toward the water, only letting out a breath when he saw he’d hit his target. One weapon down.
He turned back to the struggle, seeing that Talia looked to have the upper hand. She’d slapped the assailant’s nose up into his face with an open palm, which had caused a gush of blood that slowed him down but hadn’t stopped him. Still, he wailed, and Talia took advantage, going for the guy’s balls with her knee. He doubled in pain, but holy fuck… He pulled a gun from his pocket. Talia landed a two-hand chop to the back of his neck, not seeing the weapon as he managed to raise his firearm up, up, up. Right toward Talia’s gut…
“Gun,” Fleet screamed, rising to his knees against his woman’s orders.
He grabbed a rock, and wrapping his fingers around the familiar substance, swiftly sprung to his feet and threw it with all his might at the man’s head.
A direct hit, and the blow had the assailant reeling. But it still didn’t render him down and out as Fleet had wished. The man rose again to growl and re-aim. This time toward Fleet. But he didn’t care. He’d kept Talia from being shot, and if it was his last living memory on earth, he wouldn’t regret it.
As the man leered at him and mouthed the words, “die, you uppity asshole,” Fleet could almost see his trigger finger tightening. He braced for impact, but as if in slow motion, Talia did an amazing spin and kick, coming into direct contact with the shooter’s wrist.
