Chapter 24
For a second or two, Cullen stared at Mia, her dark eyes wide with fear. As the Jeep pitched forward, he saw the trees and mountain rushing past so quickly that it looked like a mix of black and green.
Then came the first jarring hit.
He was thrown forward against the dash, slamming his head into it. Pain exploded, but it was drowned out by the loud splintering of the windshield.
The deafening—and sickening—sound of metal crunching filled his ears from the Jeep landing on its nose.
He reached for Mia, trying to grab her hand. She was still fastened in her seatbelt, which kept her secure in her seat. He wasn’t so lucky. Her arms were raised in an effort to block her face from the glass. His fingers brushed her hand, but he wasn’t able to grab hold.
A creak of metal was all the warning he had before the Jeep fell to the side with a jolting thud. Glass rained down upon him once more. A heartbeat later, he was thrown about when the vehicle began rolling down the mountain.
He lost count of how many times he collided with something, helplessly flung this way and that. Until finally—blessedly—the vehicle came to a stop.
His ears rang, his head felt as if had been used as a soccer ball, and there was blood dripping into his eyes. There wasn’t time to think of his injuries because the men after them would arrive soon.
He blinked, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. It came away covered in red. Damn.
A glance around showed that the Jeep had landed on its roof, and he was somewhere between the dash and windshield. He turned his head toward Mia and found her hanging upside down. Several small cuts were on her face from all the glass, but he didn’t see any other blood.
That was a small comfort after what they’d just endured. With a grimace, he shifted, only to find that he had somehow held onto his gun. He tucked it into the waistband of his pants and made his way to Mia.
Her seatbelt was jammed. He blew out a frustrated breath because he wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted or needed to.
Reaching down, he pulled out the knife from his boot.
Then he quickly cut the seatbelt, catching her in his arms when she fell.
He checked her pulse, finding it steady and strong. Relief surged through him.
As expected, his door wouldn’t open. It took him several kicks before it swung wide. He held her tighter and scooted out of the Jeep. Once free, he looked up to see how far they’d tumbled.
The distance was vast, making it difficult for the men to reach them. That would give them some time. He stood and hurried to some trees where he laid Mia on the ground. There was no way he could cover any type of distance in his condition while carrying her.
But he wasn’t going to allow them to be caught either. He reached for his phone, but his pocket was empty. He hurried back to the SUV and found his cell smashed to pieces. Hopefully, Mia’s was around somewhere.
He began to search but heard distant voices approaching, speaking both American and Russian. His mind raced with different possibilities, various methods of getting away. That’s when he heard the sound of something dripping onto the ground.
A quick look confirmed that the gas tank had been struck by a bullet, which compromised the integrity. The tumble down the mountain had only made things worse.
Cullen looked to the front of the vehicle when he spotted smoke and saw that the engine was on fire. It was only a matter of time before the flames and the fumes from the gas tank collided.
He turned and ran to Mia, slipping on the uneven terrain of the sloped earth. Cullen paused long enough to grab her and turn to shield her.
The explosion was deafening, giving him little time to prepare before the blast slammed into his back, pushing him forward. He shifted at the last minute so he didn’t land on her. When he caught his breath, he lifted his head to see the fire flaring high into the sky.
He covered Mia with his body to protect her from the debris that had begun to plummet back to Earth. It was over quickly, but then came the sounds of men rushing toward the Jeep.
Cullen pushed himself to his knees, and once more lifted Mia into his arms. Pain shot through his arm and side, but he ignored it and staggered to his feet. Then he put one foot in front of the other.
He didn’t know how long he walked. The sun was bright, blinding him, even through the trees. He no longer heard the men, but that didn’t mean the Saints had stopped looking.
It only meant they had a reprieve.
He found a secluded spot of boulders and trees. There, he dropped down to one knee and set Mia down. It worried him that she still hadn’t gained consciousness. He touched her face with bloody, dirty fingers.
With a twist of his lips, he sank to the ground and rested against one of the trees. For several minutes, he simply sat there, giving himself time to rest. Gingerly, he felt along the top of his right shoulder and gritted his teeth when he found the wound.
Since he couldn’t look at it, he hoped the bullet had gone through. Otherwise, someone was going to have to dig the slug out. His gaze swung to Mia.
If she didn’t wake soon, they both would need medical attention. As long as they could find a car soon, he would be able to tend to his wound with just a stop at a store.
Then he recalled the pull in his side. He looked to his left side and saw his shirt soaked with blood. Carefully, he tugged it away from the wound, the sucking sound sickening. The sight of the laceration made their situation more precarious.
He pressed against it, hoping to staunch the flow of blood. He hissed in a breath at the sting. The cut needed to be stitched immediately. The more blood he lost, the weaker he’d become.
They had passed homes on their blistering ride down the mountain before the crash, but that was farther up than he wanted to climb. Not to mention the danger of the men after them.
Russian and American. The Saints. Who were these fuckers? They were relentless, which meant they would look for bodies at the crash site. When they didn’t find any, the hunt would be on again.
He just needed to rest for a little bit more. Then he would carry Mia out of there.
Mia grabbed her head as soon as she regained consciousness. She curled in on herself, trying to stop the hammering. Had she crashed her plane?
Her eyes flew open as it all came back to her. She’d crashed all right, but not her plane. The Jeep.
With her heart slamming against her chest, she jerked upright, her hand on her head. She looked around. Her vehicle was nowhere in sight, but she was still on the mountain.
She dropped her hand and moved her legs to get to her knees, and that’s when her foot hit something. Her mind went blank when she spotted Cullen lying half on his side. She went to touch him but hesitated when she saw the blood.
“Oh, no. Nonononononono,” she said with a shake of her head.
He must’ve carried her from the crash. And that meant the men were still after them. There was no way she could lug him very far.
The injury on his side was bleeding badly. She jerked off her jacket, wincing at the pain. Every time she moved, it hurt, but her injuries were minor compared to his wounds. The pains of her body were ignored as she turned her full attention to Cullen.
She pulled off her shirt and used her knife to cut it in half. With one side, she looped the shirt under his arm and up and over his shoulder to tie it. Then she cut part of the other half of the shirt into a long strip.
The rest she bunched together and put against the cut on his side. Using the last piece of her shirt, she managed to get it underneath him and around to tie tightly.
It wasn’t perfect, but it would help to staunch the blood for a little while. There were supplies for just such an event at the cabin, but they couldn’t go back there now.
She put her jacket on and zipped it. She stood and moved out of the shelter of the grove of trees and the boulders to get an idea of where they were.
Cullen had walked them west instead of south. Hopefully, the Saints would assume they were on their way down the mountain. That would give them some more time, but not much.
She turned and felt something in her coat. When she searched, she found the burner phone. Her gaze went to Cullen.
They couldn’t stay on the mountain. Nor could they remain where they were. The men would find them soon enough, and quite frankly, she didn’t want any of them near her.
There was only one decision. She looked at the cell phone in her hand and blew out a breath. Then she dialed a number. It rang twice before the call was answered.
“Hey,” she said. “It’s me. I need your help.”
There was a long pause. Then Sergei said, “This is not your phone.”
“I had to get another. I was being tracked.”
“By who?”
She licked her lips, unwilling to say the name over the phone. “You know who.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere on Backbone Mountain.” She blew out a breath. “We were run off the road. I must have hit my head when we went over the side.”
Sergei began bellowing for Lev. Then he brought the phone back to his ear. “Are you hurt?”
“Some bruises and a bump on the head. It’s Cullen who’s injured. He’s been shot, and there’s a cut that won’t stop bleeding. He’s unconscious now.” She swallowed and turned to face Cullen. “I know you didn’t want to be involved, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“Are you hidden?”
“Yes.”
His voice became muffled as he spoke to Lev. Then Sergei told her, “Stay where you are. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“They’re here,” she warned.
“They are everywhere, Dochenka Moya.”
The line disconnected. She glanced at the time on the phone. It had only been two hours since they’d left the cabin. At least she didn’t have to worry about being on the mountain during the night.
She returned the phone to her pocket. Her plane was several miles on the other side of the mountain. There was no getting to it. Besides, the Saints probably had it surrounded so she couldn’t get to it.
Mia walked back to Cullen and sat beside him. She saw the glass in his hair and began to pick it out. Then she touched her hair and felt the shards.
Not only had he not been wearing his seatbelt during the crash, but he’d also managed to carry her away even after sustaining serious injuries.
She couldn’t imagine the pain he’d been in while doing all of that. He’d saved her life. And now she was going to save his.
Taking out the gun, she rested it on her thigh. She wasn’t going to be caught off guard by the Saints again. They’d gotten lucky earlier. Had she been in the air, her plane under her control, it would’ve been them who crashed.
Three SUVs had been waiting for them. General Davis and Sergei were right. The Saints were everywhere. She was taking a chance that Sergei wasn’t one of them, but she didn’t have much of a choice.
Cullen needed to be patched up. She was going to see to that as soon as they were off the mountain.
“Hurry, Sergei,” she whispered when she brushed Cullen’s forehead and felt the warmth beneath her palm.