Chapter 6 #2
“Right, we have to move. If we make it out of this, I want to take you to Kodiak’s cabin sometime and spend a week, just you and me, getting to know each other. Without any distractions. Without having to worry about anyone putting a bullet in either of our brains. Let’s move.”
Brinley didn’t have to tell her limbs to move; as soon as Dash started crawling, she did too.
But his words echoed in her head. If any other man had said that he wanted to spend a week with her in what she imagined was some deserted cabin in the woods somewhere, after only knowing her a couple of days, she would’ve backed away slowly and told him he was crazy.
But a yearning filled her belly, so sharp and piercing it was shocking.
She hadn’t let herself want something as badly as she wanted this man in her entire life.
There was never any point. She wasn’t the kind of girl who had good things fall into her lap.
She’d had to fight for every single thing she’d ever accomplished.
Pretty people ran the world, everyone else was left to fend for themselves.
But right now? This moment? It didn’t matter that her hair was frizzy, or more orange than auburn, or that she wasn’t tall, her ears stuck out or that her nose was too big.
All that mattered was making sure those women didn’t get taken away in that plane to end up who-knew-where with men who would hurt them in unfathomable ways.
And she, Brinley Deaton, was the only one who could do that.
Sure, Dash could take out the two men at the plane, but more would probably show up soon after. They’d be trapped on the dock. Their only choice was to take the plane and leave before backup arrived.
Brinley couldn’t believe she was doing this.
Her. The woman who preferred to hide in her apartment sewing dazzling gowns to enhance other women’s beauty. The introvert. The freak who avoided being around people because of what they might say or think about her.
Her entire world had changed in a heartbeat. She might not be pretty, but she was the one who could make a difference in the lives of the unconscious women being loaded onto that plane. Dash couldn’t do this without her.
Confidence swam through her veins. Determination.
She wouldn’t fail. Wouldn’t let Dash down, or the women.
Because if she did, if she faltered for even a moment, they’d all die.
And the very last thing she wanted to do was track down one of Dash’s friends to give them the message that Dash wanted passed on to his mom.
She’d do what she could to make sure he could say those words to his mother himself.
They crouched behind the final bit of cover at the end of the pier. A large potted plant. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but since the two assholes were busy with the plane and getting the last of the women onboard, they weren’t looking for anyone who might be attempting to ambush them.
“Remember what I said. Stay here until I take them both out. Then get your ass to the plane and do your thing. I’ll head back to the conference center to do what I can to help law enforcement take out the remaining Red Vipers.”
Brinley didn’t like that part of the plan. Not at all. But she didn’t have time to protest as Dash kept talking.
“Head to the opposite side of the island. Land, but don’t tie up to any pier, just stay floating offshore.
Once you’re gone, I’ll tell the Secret Service what happened.
They’ll communicate with local authorities and send someone to meet you.
They’ll also bring a medical team to check on the women.
Stay safe,” he said fiercely. “I want to get to know you better even more than I did before, and that’s saying something. ”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond, just put a hand behind her head and pulled her closer, kissing her once again.
But this time it wasn’t a hard and fast mashing of their lips.
No, now his tongue surged into her mouth, and he kissed her with a desperation that had Brinley gripping the front of his shirt with one hand while holding onto his bicep with the other.
Her head was spinning, her fingers tingling, and for the first time in her life, she truly understood what lust was.
But it was over too quickly. Dash stared at her for a beat, bringing a hand up to her face and brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Fucking love these freckles,” he whispered.
Then he was gone.
He ran crouched over as he headed for the truck parked on the pier, doing his best to stay behind the bulk of the vehicle to hide his approach for as long as possible.
Brinley brought a hand up to her mouth and held her breath as she watched him.
That kiss.
Lord have mercy.
She wanted more.
But there was a greater-than-average chance that the man she was falling hard and fast for was about to die in front of her eyes, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
The guy loading the women into the plane saw him first, and he let out a warning shout, pulling a weapon from somewhere on his person and firing at Dash. She saw the man in the cockpit turn around, then bring something up to his mouth.
Shit, he was calling for help, just as Dash had predicted.
She felt sick. Her mouth watered and she swallowed hard. She couldn’t puke. Not now. She had to watch and wait for the exact moment to act. To join Dash.
Her limbs shook with adrenaline and she didn’t dare blink.
Dash took cover behind the front of the truck as he returned fire, doing his best to take out the man who’d shot at him.
She heard the Red Vipers yelling at each other but couldn’t understand what they were saying over the ringing in her ears.
When the man who’d been transporting the women fell to the wooden boards of the pier with a pained shout, she felt satisfaction course through her.
It was wrong to be so happy about a man getting shot, but since he was trying to kill Dash, and was clearly not a good person, she didn’t waste time feeling too bad.
Dash moved quickly around the truck, and she heard another gunshot. She held her breath, hoping against hope that it had been Dash who’d fired, and not the downed asshole.
Her breath came out with a whoosh when she saw Dash with his weapon drawn and pointing at the man who’d now climbed out of the small float plane—his own pistol aimed at Dash.
He was using the last woman who hadn’t been loaded as cover, holding her limp body in front of him as he knelt on the weathered boards of the pier.
The men were yelling at each other, and Brinley imagined they were each telling the other to drop their weapons. Neither seemed willing to back down. It was a stalemate.
Then sounds from behind caught Brinley’s attention, and she turned her head to see two men running down the beach toward them. They were carrying rifles, and they looked pissed way the hell off.
Backup was arriving fast. Too fast. She had no time to wait for Dash to disarm or kill the pilot. She was a sitting duck where she was. The newcomers would spot her as they approached and shoot her on sight. She had no doubt of that.
Her legs were moving before she had time to think about what she was doing.
She was running down the pier toward Dash and the plane, her heart in her throat, adrenaline making her move faster than she otherwise might.
She’d always joked to Cypress that the only thing that could make her run was if a pissed-off moose or bear was on her heels, but the men behind her with their automatic rifles were twice as deadly as any of the animals she might run across in her daily life in Fairbanks.
“Dash!” she yelled as she neared. “They’re coming!”
Two things happened almost simultaneously with her panicked shout: the pilot turned his attention to her in surprise; and a loud gunshot echoed over the calm waters.
Brinley didn’t slow down as she ran around the truck. The pilot’s moment of inattention had given Dash the opening he needed. He’d shot the man in the head, his blood spraying all over the woman he’d been using as a human shield. It was gruesome, but he was no longer a threat.
She had a split second to see the look of concentration on Dash’s face, the way he took in the newest crisis, before he barked, “We have twenty seconds, maybe less for you to get this plane moving.”
Brinley didn’t hesitate. She jumped over the man with the hole in his head and into the cramped float plane.
The back was filled with bodies, and she stumbled as she practically leaped into the pilot’s seat, stepping on someone’s arm in the process.
But all her concentration was on the controls.
She took a deep breath, orientating herself, and thankfully, all her lessons came back to her without a second thought.
She began to flick switches and felt a giddy sense of relief when everything seemed normal.
Turning briefly when she heard a grunt behind her, she saw Dash settling the last woman inside the plane.
Brinley began to ease the plane away from the dock before he could jump back out and sacrifice himself. She wasn’t leaving him behind. No freaking way.
“Fuck!”
The swear word he’d used several times to communicate his displeasure at their current situation made her smile for half a second, before reality crashed back down and the seriousness of the situation had her pressing her lips together in determination once more.
He crouched over the pile of arms and legs and pointed his pistol out the door. “Go!” he yelled.
Brinley didn’t need to be told to get the hell out of there.
One glance over her shoulder told her the other terrorists were almost upon them.
The plane moved farther away from the dock, and she was relieved Dash had the foresight to remove the ropes that had secured the plane to the pilings before he’d loaded the last woman onboard.