Part 10 (1/2)

Escape. Right. That was exactly what he planned to do. And from the looks of it, sooner rather than later.

”I was just checking to make sure it runs,” she said as she ma.s.saged her scalp.

He eyed her like he didn't believe her, then moved to examine the engine himself. Careful to step around her so their bodies didn't come close to making contact.

Definitely still p.i.s.sed. Although at the moment she wasn't sure why he thought he had the market cornered on that emotion.

She waited while he pulled the dipstick out and checked the oil level. She held the rag out for him as a peace offering, but he ignored it, instead wiping his grimy hands on the thighs of his jeans.

Oh right, not his jeans. Marty's jeans. Marty's jeans. No wonder he was in an extra-foul mood. No wonder he was in an extra-foul mood.

He walked around the side of the truck without speaking, climbed behind the wheel and started the ignition with the keys she'd left in the cab. His eyes narrowed on the dash. Then he killed the engine and climbed back out. ”There's less than a quarter tank of gas. How far to the nearest town?”

”Keeneyville's about ten minutes down the road. In good conditions. But there's only one gas station, and it might be closed due to the storm.”

”Great.” He perched his hands on his narrow hips and glanced around the garage as if considering his options.

She touched the medal at her chest and thought about her own. She'd found the gas cans Marty had mentioned on the phone, but there still wasn't enough fuel for two vehicles to get out of here, and considering the weather, the limo was pretty much useless at this point. It had barely made it the last ten miles to the farm when the snow had been seriously piling up. So that left the truck. She needed to get to Philly, and he wanted out of this garage.

Indecision warred within her as she bit her lip. She really wanted to tear into him for being such a d.i.c.k but knew that wouldn't get her anywhere. So she tried for sweetness instead. ”I know where we can get some fuel, but I'm going to need a favor from you first.”

He slowly turned her direction with eyes that could have burned a hole right through her and felt like they had. Refusing to shrink from that look, she s.h.i.+fted her feet and lifted her chin in defiance. So he was ticked at her. So she'd lied to him. So what? He'd done some pretty awful things, too.

”Oh, this should be good,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his feet wide in an aggressive stance. ”Lay it on me. I'm all ears. What could I possibly do to help you out, Kat? Please. Tell me. I'm dying dying to help.” to help.”

No, not just a d.i.c.k. Now he was being a complete a.s.shole. She refused to drop to his level. ”I need to go to Philadelphia.”

”And that impacts me how?”

She glanced at the pickup.

Understanding dawned in his eyes. ”In this truck.”

She nodded.

”My truck,” he said again.

”The limo won't make it in this snow. And besides, there's not enough gas for both vehicles to leave here. So...I was thinking we'd go together. I can't leave you out here stranded without transportation.”

”Generous of you.” His brows dropped low. ”Why do you need to go to Philly?”

She hesitated, sure this would only make things worse, but really, what were her other options? ”I made a call. A friend of a friend has agreed to help me. Us, if you want. But we have to get to Philadelphia first.”

”A friend,” he said with guarded suspicion. ”Someone with the government?”

”Something like that.”

He studied her a beat. ”Your friend of a friend wouldn't happen to be an acquaintance of Slade's, would he?”

She bit her lip. ”Maybe.”

”Maybe,” he repeated. Then he shook his head, disgust running across his face. ”No, I think definitely. You just wanna keep rubbing my nose in it, huh?” He turned away to study a shelving unit across the room.

”It's not like that,” she said quickly.

”I don't care what it's like,” he said sharply. ”All I want right now is to get the h.e.l.l out of here.”

His tone was straight and to the point, but his body language belied something else: frustration, anger...jealousy?

Definitely not the latter. Not after the way he'd walked away from her so easily all those years before. ”Pete-”

A loud popping pierced the quiet. Metal blasted off metal in a long series of bursts that sounded like a garage full of cars backfiring all at once. Wood panels on the exterior wall across the room cracked and split with an echoing thwack. thwack.

One minute Kat was standing on her feet ready to dig her heels in over their transportation situation, the next Pete dove for her, taking her down hard on the cement floor. Her back and shoulders took the brunt of the fall. Her skull cracked against the unforgiving concrete. A wooden shelf behind them splintered as bullets ripped it to pieces. A can of nails flew up in the air, raining bits of metal down around them.

Kat shrieked. Pete moved more of his body over her, s.h.i.+elding her head with his arms and tucking her face against his neck. The seconds that pa.s.sed as the garage was ripped to shreds by flying shrapnel felt like hours.

In the brief lull that followed, Pete muttered, ”Holy f.u.c.k.”

His weight was a solid force pus.h.i.+ng down on her, his breath hot against her skin, but all she could focus on was where she'd gone wrong and how in the name of G.o.d they'd been found so fast.

”Are you hit?”

She registered his hands gripping her arms hard, his eyes intense, only inches from her own, boring right into her skull. She glanced down at where he held her, then back up again. Somehow, she was able to shake her head. ”No. No, I'm not hit. I...oh, G.o.d-”

”Katherine Meyer!”

Kat froze at the deeply accented Middle Eastern voice.

”We know you're in there,” it yelled again. ”Come out now so we can settle this in a civilized manner.”

Busir.

”Civilized manner, my a.s.s,” Pete whispered. ”Don't you move a G.o.dd.a.m.n muscle.”

Perspiration popped out on Kat's skin. Without warning she was back in the tomb, a knife at her throat, a hard and evil man at her back, holding her tight by her hair.

”No, no, no,” she muttered, struggling underneath Pete. Panic washed away her common sense. She had to get away. She couldn't stay here. She had to...what? What could she possibly do? A groan tore from her chest.

”Pull it together, Kat,” Pete said softly. He locked his legs around her thighs to stop her struggling, holding her tight against his body. Bracing one forearm across her chest to keep her pressed to the cold concrete, he clamped his free hand over her mouth. ”Shh!”

The flight response was so strong, his words and strength barely registered. But when they did, and she realized he was carefully listening to Busir's movements outside, she went utterly still.

”That's it,” he said in her ear. His hot breath tickled the soft skin behind her ear, ran like rivulets down her neck. Or maybe that was the perspiration from her adrenaline rush. She couldn't tell anymore.

”Two out front. They're checking the main door. It's locked, right?”