Chapter Ten
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The bullet hit the driver’s side window with a sharp crack, spidering the glass. Eli ducked instinctively, dragging Delaney down beside him as they hit the dirt behind the SUV.
Hell. Someone was trying to kill them.
Another shot rang out, kicking up gravel inches from where his elbow rested. Whoever was shooting had a clear view of their position. Eli angled his head, scanning the trees across the road. Nothing but oak and cedar, thick and tangled. Somewhere in there, someone had them in their sights.
Delaney slid her own weapon free, and like him, she fired glances around. “You see anything?”
“No. But they’re elevated,” he said. “That shot came from above, maybe fifty yards out.”
Another shot cracked, and this one struck the side mirror, blasting it into pieces. The debris rained down on them.
“Cover me,” Eli muttered, shifting his body around the back end of the SUV. Delaney returned fire in the direction of the trees, not aiming to hit, just to distract.
Staying low to the ground, Eli scrambled away from the SUV and dropped behind a large boulder that was about six feet away. His pulse pounded in his ears, but his focus was sharp. He raised his weapon and scanned through the branches.
Movement. A sliver of black. Someone was shifting positions, trying to flank them.
“Right side,” Eli whispered to Delaney. “About forty yards.”
Delaney adjusted and fired twice. No scream, no thud. Either she missed or their shooter was wearing armor.
Eli took a breath, sighted in, and fired. A grunt answered, followed by the sound of someone crashing through the underbrush.
He waited, tense, tracking the noise. Then silence.
“You think they’re gone?” Delaney asked, levering herself up just a little.
Eli’s jaw clenched. “No. I think they’re setting up for something else. Get back down,” he warned her.
She did. Delaney went belly down onto the ground. Silence fell like a curtain, thick and unnatural. Eli kept his body low, his back pressed against the gravel and his eyes trained on the tree line. His ears strained for any sound. A snapped twig. A footstep. Anything.
Across from him, Delaney stayed still, her breaths short and controlled. He knew her well enough now to see the tension in the set of her shoulders, the way her fingers flexed on her weapon. She was ready. But so was whoever had them pinned down.
Eli considered the SUV. The windows were spidered but intact. Bullet-resistant. If Delaney could get inside, she’d be safer. But she’d have to expose herself to do it. One wrong move and she could take a bullet in a spot that could kill her.
He opened his mouth to whisper a plan, but the next shot cracked through the air before he could speak.
The bark above his head exploded, splinters raining down on his arm. The angle had changed. Son of a bitch had moved.
Closer.
He bit down on the rising panic. Not fear. Focus. Keep her safe. Find the threat.
Delaney ducked lower, eyes locking with his.
“He’s moving,” she whispered.
Eli shifted again, this time crawling through the scrub to a better vantage point. His hands were scraped raw from gravel and thorns. His heart thudded behind his ribs like a war drum.
Another crack.
The bullet punched into the front quarter panel of the SUV. Closer again.
Eli aimed toward the new direction and fired twice in quick succession. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows. No scream. No return fire.
He didn’t like that.
Delaney’s voice was tight. “You think he’s trying to flush us out?”
Eli didn’t answer. He was already moving. He commando crawled from the boulder and behind some thick underbrush.
And then he heard it.
A sound he sure as hell hadn’t wanted to hear.
The gunshot followed by Delaney’s sharp gasp. Her body recoiled, her breath hissed through her teeth, and she cradled her left arm.
His heart crashed against his ribs.
“Delaney,” he blurted on a rush of breath.
She held up her hand before he could reach her. “I’m okay,” she bit out. “Not serious. Just grazed.”
He didn’t believe her. Not entirely. Blood was already soaking through the sleeve of her jacket. The sight of it lit something dark and hot in his chest.
The bastard had shot her.
Eli turned his head, scanning the brush and trees beyond the SUV. He could feel the shooter watching. Calculating. Waiting.
Fine. Let him.
Eli shifted to his knees and rose higher than he should have. He didn’t care. He wanted the bastard to see him.
“Hey!” Eli shouted, his voice a roar that echoed across the open stretch. “You want someone to shoot at? I’m right here!”
Another shot rang out.
It hit the gravel a foot from his position, kicking up dust and stone. Then another followed, this one closer.
Eli stayed up just long enough to get a visual—movement through the trees. Not clear, not steady, but enough. He ducked just as the next shot cracked, the whine of the bullet passing by his head sharp enough to make his ears ring.
He dropped back, panting. “You still with me, Delaney?”
She nodded, jaw clenched. Her face was pale, but her eyes were steady.
“Good,” he spat out. “Because I’m done letting this guy get another shot.”
Eli shifted position slowly, calculating. The shooter had moved closer, and that meant he was cocky or desperate. Maybe both. Either way, Eli could use it.
He waited for the rhythm of the shots. Listened for the slight crunch of boots on dried leaves. Noted the angle. The shooter had circled right, trying to find a better line of sight.
“Come on,” Eli muttered under his breath. “Just a little closer.”
He rose again, only partway, and fired a single round into the trees. A distraction. Then he slid to the left, dropped to a crouch, and waited.
Seconds passed like hours.
Then the shooter moved. Fast. Darting out from behind a tree, his ski mask pulled low and a tactical vest strapped over his chest. He raised his weapon.
Eli was faster.
He squeezed the trigger. One, two, three.
The bullets hit center mass, exactly where Eli had aimed. The man jerked with each impact and stumbled back. He didn’t fall, but he went down on one knee, his gun sagging in his hand.
Eli moved. Gun trained on the man, he closed the distance carefully, keeping to the edge of the trees. The shooter was breathing hard, wheezing no doubt because the shots had knocked the air out of his lungs. Eli could see his hands now, shaking slightly, but still too close to the weapon.
“Drop it,” Eli ordered, voice low and deadly. “Now.”
The man looked up, eyes visible through the holes in the mask. There was pain there, and rage. But Eli didn’t care.
He stepped in closer, kicked the weapon away, and dropped to one knee. In one smooth motion, Eli pulled zip ties from his vest and cuffed the man’s wrists, then bound his ankles for good measure. No chances. Not with this one.
Then he ripped off the ski mask.
The face beneath was unfamiliar. Mid-thirties, lean and pale, with cold, calculating eyes that showed no fear. Just contempt.
Eli narrowed his gaze. “You so much as twitch, and I’ll put a bullet through your kneecap. Got it?”
The man didn’t respond. Just stared at him.
Eli wanted answers. Needed to know who sent him, who he worked for, and why the hell he had tried to kill them. But not yet. There was something more important.
Delaney.
Eli rose fast, heart thudding hard in his chest as he turned and ran back toward where she was crouched behind the tree. Blood was still soaking her sleeve. She was trying to keep pressure on it, but her face was pale.
Whipping out his phone, Eli called for an ambulance. His hands were steady, his voice calm, but every muscle in his body was on high alert. He had to get Delaney help now.
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