Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A shock rattles me. I’m not sure if the blinding light or the noise surprises me more. “Oh, my god!”
“It’s okay.” Justice grabs my arm, keeping me upright. Making sure I don’t nosedive off the scaffolding. “Truck did that.”
I'm still seeing spots. It's really hard to hear him as well. “What?—”
“Flashbang. It’s a diversion. He’s getting away right now. We need to keep moving.”
Great. Just what I needed.
Thank god we're almost there.
The last section of scaffolding looms in front of us, the rickety boards bouncing under our feet.
Please let us make it. Please let Truck be safe.
Thankfully, Justice has a clear head. He guides me off the catwalk and over the side of the roof, onto a rusty fire escape.
“Ah, gotta love the way these things rattle and creak.”
“I'd rather not think about that right now,” I grumble as we fly down the stairs, my hands catching over and over again on the roughened surface of the old metal railings.
When we hit the ground, he doesn’t waste a second.
My hand is in his, and we’re sprinting toward the cathedral.
The hem of the hospital gown is slapping against my legs, a reminder that I look ridiculous.
“I’m so glad Truck gave me this jacket.”
Justice laughs and keeps on going.
“This way.”
“Your call. I can find relics and mineral deposits, I don't do urban.”
Justice somehow knows where to go. If it’s instinct, he’s good.
A wooden door with small panes of glass is nestled in an alcove. Shadows swallow around us as we step out of sight, into the privacy of the entrance.
He drops my hand so he can rip off his shirt.
“Try not to look at me,” he quips, “Truck will break my leg.”
Okay, Truck is hot. He's totally my favorite man, and I can't believe I'm admitting that. But whatever woman lands Justice is going to be one happy chick.
He's darkly tanned, cut in all the right places, and has this long, lean athletic thing that screams stamina.
Uh, hum. Not staring.
But I do admire his efficiency.
So what if he looks great while he's breaking into a church?
"We'll be inside in a second."
Like he’s done this a thousand times, he wraps his hand in his shirt. The butt of his gun precisely knocks against the corner of the glass. There's barely a sound.
Leaning close, he threads his covered hand through the shards and twists the knob on the inside.
“Bingo. We're gold.”
“You guys are SEALs but I’m beginning to think you’re also pretty darn good criminals.”
He chuckles, with mischief dancing his dark brown eyes. “Sometimes, we have to blur the lines. Come on. Truck will be coming soon.”
I’m still breathing hard. The sound is loud inside the small vestibule.
The air is cool and still, like no one has been inside in days. Maybe months.
“How did you guys know about the tunnels?”
“It wasn’t my part of the job, but the team was researching places someone might be holding you.”
“Ohhh.” I cringe. Truck and his team have been looking for me for weeks, but I didn't know they were the good guys. “I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”
“Shhhh.” He taps his ear, and I freeze.
Pressing against a cool, brick wall, I strain to hear what he might have heard.
He’s studying the floor, or maybe so tuned into his hearing that he doesn’t need to look around.
Finally, he tips his chin and grabs my hand in his again. “Nothing but a rat.”
“You must have super hearing. And how did you know it was a rat?”
A set of stairs break off to the right. He tugs me quickly down them. My thighs are getting a serious workout today.
“Let’s just say I’ve been in some pretty bad places where I became very familiar with the furry bastards.”
“Ick.”
Every step we take downward, the air cools. An ominous silence coats the place. Goosebumps break out on my bare legs.
Normally, I love these kinds of buildings, it calls to the curious archeologist in me, but right now, I just want to be as far away from those men as possible. “Where will this lead us?”
“Away from here. Beast will get a team to meet us. They weren't very far out when I called. He’s tracking my movements now through my phone.”
My stomach eases. Not that Truck and Justice can't keep me protected. But safety in numbers. For them too. “It’s so nice to have backup.”
He glances at me, his gaze turning reflective. “Yeah, it is. Now you’ve got us too.”
What a foreign concept.
I've always stood on my own feet. Grew up expecting to have my own back. But now... Is there a future for me with Truck?
There’s a primal part of me that craves safety. Finally, being able to let my guard down. Even just for a few moments. But that’s not now. I’ve got to be a part of getting us out of here safely.
The tension in my shoulders rises up and squeezes my throat. “Shouldn’t Truck be here by now?”
“I’m right here.”
Eeep !
His calloused palm clamps over my mouth when I make a startled screech. “Shhhh, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I’m still wheezing and dizzy from the scare when he drops his hold and slides his hand around the back of my neck. “I’m glad to see you.”
God, his touch feels good. That warm strong presence that I crave. Strong and steady.
“You, too.” All that emotion wells up in my eyes. “You scared the life out of me.”
The kiss he presses to my forehead feels possessive. “All good. Just a little smoke and mirrors.”
“And bangs. Not the kind that come with a bad haircut.” A dry, relieved laugh shakes inside my chest. “I’m delirious. Can you tell?”
It’s impossible not to sag into his side as the three of us hustle down the narrow corridor which must now be deep under the Cathedral.
“Is this another one of those never-ending days because I'm so ready for a vacation and a Big Mac.”
Truck and I both laugh.
Inside joke aside, I'm ready for this nightmare to be over. And to see where this might go with us.
The fire burning in my body for his is a loooong way from being doused. If anything, all the adrenaline, all the ways he’s protected me have only made me hungrier for him.
Justice, clearly not getting our private humor, raises a hand. “Ditto, but I could use some of those spicy tamales we got a couple weeks ago. Remember those, T?”
Truck pats his stomach. “Don’t be talking about food right now. I’m ready to devour something.”
His glance says one thing. Me.
A small smile curves his lips, and I clear my throat, quickly looking away.
Oof. All he has to do is look at me, and I’m melted butter.
It’s like all the wind gets sucked out of me and a blast of warm sunshine fills me up inside.
His tone turns husky. “How about you, beautiful?”
Nope. No way .
I’m not getting dragged into this kind of conversation.
I cannot answer. My voice will be smokey. I still don’t have any panties on and just the thought of him touching me with his mouth makes my whole body zing.
The tunnel turns left, and Justice waves his red flashlight beam across a door. “This goes up to the market.”
“Are you sure it’s the right place?” I ask, intentionally avoiding Truck’s amused stares.
Justice makes a hungry sound as he speeds up. “Oh yeah, I can smell those things…”
An amazing scent hits me. Cinnamon and sugar. Caught in the air, drifting into the tunnel from somewhere above.
The teasing aroma draws me forward. “It smells like heaven. Oh, my goodness, are those the churro things that Vandemorians love?”
Justice’s long legs eat up the tunnel floor, his red flashlight beam ticking back and forth with his steps. “Yep. I’m putting my money on that's what it is.”
“I hope you guys actually have cash because not only do I not have any—” I laugh. “—I don’t have pants, an ID, a phone, or anything else normal.”
“We got you covered.” Truck loops his arm around my neck, pulling me in close until he’s speaking against my ear. “I’ll spot you, and you can repay me later.”
This sexual chemistry is definitely hitting new highs.
Our teasing is out in the open now. The space between his body and mine is only centimeters, but it’s as charged as a city power station.
I elbow him, and he chuckles.
“I’ll buy you anything you want, sweetheart. Happy wife, happy life.”
My feet suddenly tangle, my boots knocking together, and his laugh grows deeper.
I’m so busy choking on the word wife , I don’t even realize the door ahead of us has swung open.
Justice reacts instantly.
His arms rise lightning fast, his weapon at the ready, pointing at the shadowy figure filling the door frame. But before I can tell what’s happening, he’s relaxing.
“What the hell?”
Truck lowers his own gun and pushes ahead of me. “Axle, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“You don’t want to go that way.” Pale as paper, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, Truck’s twin brother stumbles toward us. “Some bad guys are right behind me.”