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“Fuck!” His curse got snatched by the wind, and if Wren heard, she couldn’t comment anyway over the road noise.
He needed to get a call off to his team.
Where could he ditch the bike? He’d hotwire a car if need be. Thank Christ he and Julius had spent hours as kids testing their skill on an old beat-up Chevy their dad owned. The knowledge would come in handy today.
They were outside of Spring Valley. That damn needle on the gas gauge didn’t tell him how many miles he had left on the tank. He estimated seven, maybe ten at most. Where would that put them on the map?
His mind shot ahead to the next town—which happened to be the home of the Sentry team. They were a good thirteen miles from East Canon, though. But on the outskirts, there would be somewhere to stop and hide the bike. He could make a call and have someone pick them up in minutes.
As he hammered down on the gas, Wren latched on to him even tighter. She had to be terrified. He would never, ever admit to being afraid…but he could lose her.
He and his brothers had failed one mission before and a young woman died on their watch. The event broke all five of them. It made Judd, Jaren and Jace more determined to succeed in the bodyguard business, while he and Julius shied away from it for a few years.
Only when they got sick of manual labor or spending hours under vehicles in their dad’s shop changing oil did they accept Lexis’s offer to join Sentry.
I can’t lose Wren. I love her.
He was going to get a ring on her finger and send her back to med school. She was too good to let that talent slip away. Then…he’d put a child inside her. Start his own little Abel brood.
As soon as he hit the outskirts of East Canon, an idea hit. Maybe the craziest fucking idea he’d ever had.
The church where it all started.
He could hide his bike in the gardener’s shed behind the building. Darkness had fallen, and that was an advantage. He just needed to get off this bike before it ran out of gas and make that call to his team.
When he geared down, Wren squeezed him so hard that he had to draw harder to pull air into his lungs. He felt like stroking his Harley and telling her what a good girl she was for making it so far on little gas and making promises to take better care of her next time.
Cutting the headlight, he rolled into the empty parking lot and toward the shed. As soon as he saw the padlock, he inwardly cussed. Picking it was easy but would take up precious seconds.
He stopped and lowered the kickstand. “Get off. Hurry!”
* * * * *
Jennings’s urgent whisper had Wren leaping off the motorcycle as if it was molten-hot steel. He jumped off too and ran up to the shed, fishing in his pocket as he closed the distance. “Wren, get over here.”
She did his bidding.
“Place your back to the shed. Try to blend in. We can’t be seen.”
A shudder racked her. Nausea fisted her gut, making it cramp.
She threw herself against the shed wall and flattened her back and arms to it. “What’s going on?”
“The bike’s out of gas. We have to hide it.”
“In here?”
“Yes. I’m picking the…” He broke off in silence for several thunderous beats. Then she heard the soft metallic click of him forcing the lock. “Yes! Stay right there. I’ll push the bike inside.”
Feeling helpless wasn’t new to Wren. Being a target was. Her breaths came in short bursting pants as she watched for hidden dangers and Jennings pushed the bike inside the shed. He locked it again and yanked out his phone.
Just then, a set of headlights cut through the darkness and panned far too close to the shed. She let out a cry that cut off as Jennings locked a hand on her arm and forced her into a dead run.
They slammed into the wall of the church. The lights turned the corner.
“Goddammit. What are the chances that they’re coming here on a Thursday night? They’re not on schedule until tomorrow.” He moved down the wall, towing her behind him. They reached the back door. He tried the handle—and it opened.
The lights washed over the building right where they’d been standing before Jennings thrust her through the door.
