Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rafe sucked in a deep breath as the cabin door was pulled shut. He’d done it. He’d finally convinced Lena to leave.
You’re screwed, but at least you know the woman you’ve fallen for is going to live.
His relief was short-lived, stolen back by the sound of hurried footsteps near the door directly behind him. Rafe tilted his head that way as he listened closely. When he heard the footsteps again, his brow furrowed.
“Lena?”
There was no answer.
He listened again, straining over the pounding of his heart. The cabin had gone so quiet, he could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator to his right. Then came the unmistakable scraping of wood against packed earth.
Rafe’s blood turned cold.
He knew the cabin’s layout. Knew the narrow strip of ground that ran along the back wall. Thanks to his keen eye, Rafe also remembered seeing a stack of old cinder blocks near the foundation earlier, when he’d been outside.
“Lena!” His voice was rough with warning. “I know you’re out there. Whatever it is you’re doing, stop!”
When another scrape sounded from out back, it became clear she wasn’t leaving. Rafe wanted to turn around and yank the door open. To demand she explain why she was being so reckless.
But he didn’t dare move his lower body even a fraction more. It may have worked out fine the first time he’d turned himself around, but he wasn’t about to push his luck further. Besides, he didn’t need to see Lena’s gorgeous face to understand what she was doing.
From the sounds he’d heard, she was hauling those heavy blocks from where they’d been left and stacking them next to the back door.
She’s planning to create enough counterweight with the blocks to free me.
A block struck another with a dull, hollow thud.
“Lena, stop!”
But she ignored him. Of course, she did. The woman was so damn stubborn.
Stubborn. Fearless. Infuriatingly brave.
And apparently willing to gamble her life to save his.
Rafe’s heart slammed against his ribs as he shouted at her again through the door.
“Lena, listen to me. You don’t know how much weight it’s going to take, or whether there are even enough blocks to make a difference.”
“It’s enough,” she hollered back, her voice sounding much closer than before.
“You and I both know there’s only one way this thing ends. So just stop, okay?”
“I’m not leaving you to die, so you stop, okay? And shut up, I’m trying to count!”
As unbelievable as it was, Rafe found himself fighting a smile. He wasn’t sure which was stronger, the urge to spank her gorgeous ass red or kiss her senseless.
Unfortunately for him, he could do neither. And since he was, as she pointed out, the one standing on the bomb, he had no choice but to go along with the new plan. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his feelings clear a final time.
“So help me, woman,” he shouted out next. “You get yourself killed, I’m going to be royally pissed!”
The door behind him was opened. A gust of the night’s warm, swirling breeze carried with it Lena’s familiar scent. Vanilla musk with a hint of raspberries.
And then, Rafe heard—
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t plan on dying today.”
Rafe huffed out a breathy laugh. How could he not when a woman like Angelina Price cared enough to risk herself for him?
Still, he had to give it one more try.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.” She picked up the first of the blocks she’d stacked nearby. Keeping her booted feet on the concrete slab just outside the door, Lena spoke to him from behind. “You’re what, two-forty? Two-forty-five?”
He sighed, his broad shoulders falling as he gave up the fight. Why bother, when it was obvious he’d already lost? The woman had made up her mind, and nothing he said or did was going to change it.
“Last time I was on the scale, it showed two-forty-two.”
“That’s perfect.”
Rafe frowned. “How so?”
“The average cinder block weighs between thirty-five and thirty-eight pounds. I grabbed eight, so even if they all were on the lower end of that range, it’ll be enough.” She paused. “Unless you’re one of those guys who lies about his weight to impress the ladies.”
Rafe started to chuckle but caught himself to prevent the unintentional shifting of his weight.
“If I’m off by a few pounds, I blame it on your pancakes,” he joked. “And I won’t even ask how you know what a cinder block weighs.”
Lena’s soft laughter came to him from his lower left side. But then—
“Don’t. Move.” She carefully placed the first block onto the mat, inching it next to the sole of his boot. “One down, seven to go.”
“Perhaps you should throw an extra one on there, just in case,” he suggested.
“What’s the matter, Brit? Don’t you trust me?”
Rafe grinned. “I’m quite literally trusting you with my life.”
She paused to meet his gaze, her tone laced with sincerity and determination. “I’m going to get you out of this alive.”
Lena believed the solemn vow, and he loved her for it. Time slowed down once again as he was forced to stand frozen and wait.
She moved back and forth between him and the collection of blocks.
With an abundance of caution, she made two separate but equal stacks on the section of floor that had given way beneath his weight.
When both towers of cinderblocks were even, it was time for the final—and most terrifying—part of the plan.
The part where, hopefully, they didn’t die.
“Reach back and take my hand,” Lena instructed.
Doing as he’d been asked, Rafe felt her left palm sliding against his. His fingers curled around hers tightly, and she responded in kind.
Looking over his shoulder, Rafe found a moment of solace when their gazes met. “You can still walk away, you know?” he offered.
The smile she flashed him was one he’d never forget.
“And miss all this fun?” She gave his hand a quick squeeze before pulling in a steadying breath. “You ready?”
With the blocks there, theoretically Rafe should be able to simply step off the plate. But devices like this could be tricky, and they hadn’t come this far to chance it now.
“You want me to lie, or do you prefer I tell you the truth?”
Lena’s eyes held onto his. “I’m right here.”
Those three simple words damn near broke him open where he stood. Rafe filled his lungs, steeling himself for what could be the final seconds of his very existence.
“Pull as hard as you can.”
She steadied her stance. “On three?”
“On three.”
Lena began to count.
“One . . . two . . . three!”
Rafe felt a sudden, violent jerk as he was yanked outside with surprising strength. His feet cleared the mat as they tumbled toward the grass.
On reflex, he twisted his body mid-air, wrapping himself around Lena so he’d take the brunt of the fall. The air was forced from his lungs, his back slamming against the earth before he rolled them over so he was on top.
With his head ducked, Rafe covered her body with his. Lena’s chest heaved harshly against his as they waited for the bomb to blow.
It never did.
Rafe spared a glance in that direction, shocked to see the cabin was still standing. The blocks were still in place. The bomb never went off.
It actually worked.
He looked down at Lena. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” She nodded. “You?”
“You saved my life.” His gaze became lost within hers. “I don’t know what to say.”
One corner of her mouth lifted into a taunting smirk. “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.”
Now free from the confines of the cabin’s dark interior, the intensity of her stare was damn near blinding. Or maybe he was merely seeing her through a set of brand-new eyes. Ones that finally recognized what he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
It’s her.
Rafe reached down, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her up into a kiss that felt like a smoldering collision. Born of adrenaline, near-death, and feelings that had been suppressed for far too long, it tasted of desperation and relief. Passion and heat.
And dare he think it—
This feels a lot like love.
He’d been given a second chance at ife and at love, and this time, he wasn’t about to let it slip past. Not this time. Not anymore.
I’m never letting her go again.
Lena gasped into his mouth, her hands clutching at the front of his protective vest. She melted against him, returning the kiss with a fierce, trembling fervor.
When Rafe finally pulled back, he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered sincerely, their breaths becoming mingled with the steady breeze.
Adrenaline began to fade, but he didn’t fully relax. He could still feel the phantom click of the pressure plate in his bones. The killer had been well-prepared, continuing his cruel game of attrition.
One by one, he was taking the lives of those who’d worked the op in Syria. He and Lena were the only ones left.
And Roger.
Lena’s mentor and friend had put himself in the hitman’s crosshairs the minute he decided to come here in hopes of protecting Damien. Now he was missing, but hopefully the well-meaning man was still alive.
Kozlova won’t stop until his man has killed us all.
Rafe’s grip on the woman in his arms tightened as he kissed her again. The tenderness of the moment shifted to something sharper and far more lethal. The predator hunting them was still out there. Stalking. Waiting. Ready to tear their world apart.
Let him wait.
He pulled back, pressed a final, lingering kiss to her forehead as he scanned the darkened landscape with an operator’s eye. Lena wouldn’t risk herself again. Not for him or anyone else. And as long as there was breath in his lungs, she was done being a target.
Whoever the killer was, they had no idea of the deadly wrath they’d just unleashed. But they would see for themselves, soon enough.
Rafe pushed himself from Lena’s sprawled form with a groan before helping her to her feet. “We should get out of here,” he told her. “Find some place to lay low for the night.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” She adjusted her vest. “But first . . .” She turned back to the cabin. “I think we both need to die.”
The unexpected comment took him completely off guard. “I’m sorry, we need to what?”