He kept Harlow locked to his side and right before the ground rushed up to meet him, he twisted to his side. The backpack prevented landing on his back and Duke was strapped to his stomach. When he hit, his head cracked against the concrete. He didn’t even feel Harlow landing on top of him.
“Sawyer? Can you hear me?”
Consciousness returned slowly. Sounds were muted, far away. Debris rained down and something wet brushed his face. Before he opened his eyes, he took stock of his body. His head hurt like hell and his arm was screaming from where it was pinned beneath his body and the concrete when he’d wrapped it around Duke. His other arm was locked around Harlow.
“Sawyer? Are you awake? Are you okay? Please open your eyes.”
If he didn’t know better, he’d think Harlow was miles away. Her voice sounded like she was on one end of a tunnel and he the other. He barely made out the words. He blinked his eyes open and then instantly slammed them shut. The ash and smoke were thick, and what light penetrated the fog stung. Something wet touched his cheek again. He forced his eyes open to look directly into liquid brown ones. Duke’s small pink tongue reached out again and licked his face. The pup had twisted in his sling to reach him. The hand that was holding on to him moved up and stroked his head. The dog was giving him comfort when it should be the other way around.
“Oh, thank God,” Harlow breathed. He didn’t actually hear the words as much as he read her lips.
He did a quick scan of her body. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head and pointed to her ears. “My ears are ringing. What?”
“Are you hurt,” he mouthed.
She shook her head. He looked down at Duke, who was gazing at him with adoring eyes. Suddenly, images came rushing back to him. The young boy. A suicide bomber. And they were in the middle of the road. “We need to get out of here.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
He pointed to the buildings and she instantly understood. The kid didn’t strap on that vest by himself. There could be others around.
She scrambled up and helped him stand. He made sure Duke was secured in the sling and, ignoring the various aches and pains, including what felt like road rash along his side, he limped away with her hand securely in his. They had to dodge pieces of burning wood and chunks of debris. The skies rained ash. He thought alarms might be going off, but then, it could just be the ringing in his ears.
When they were safely out of the street, he glanced back to see the destruction from the bomb. Windows were blown out of nearby buildings. The car he’d coveted was upside down, the wheels spinning ominously. Something was still burning in the street and he feared it was the child. Who would do that to a kid? Strap a bomb on him and end his life? To what end? The city was all but destroyed. Dozens, possibly hundreds had been killed already. What good did a suicide bomber do that hadn’t already been done?
Something triggered in his brain and the implication wasn’t good. The boy had been wearing a blue bandanna emblazoned with a skull and crossbones around his neck. He hadn’t realized the significance at the time. His focus had been directly on the suicide vest. The bandanna wasn’t Dominar’s call sign…it was Victor11’s. That could only mean that the rival cartel was fighting back. The implications were grim.
He glanced down at Harlow. Her mouth gaped in horror and he gently eased her away. He didn’t want to worry her more, so he kept the part about Victor11 to himself. It was imperative they get out of the city before the war escalated.
His head still pounded from it bouncing on the concrete like a basketball, but his ears were slowly clearing. “How’s the hearing?”
“Getting better.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“A little sore, but fine. You cushioned my fall.” She glanced up at him with tears swimming in her eyes. “Sawyer, he was just a child.”
He gathered her close to his side. “I know, honey.”
The route they had been taking was the most direct. Now they would have to weave around a different way. He just prayed there were no more surprises. He really thought they’d be safer the further they were from the center of the city, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
The good thing about the rapid pace they were setting was that it was working the soreness out of his abused muscles. He knew that when they stopped, he’d stiffen up.
When they approached a main road, he heard a car approach. It was the first vehicle they’d encountered. Though he wanted to flag it down and bum a ride, he flattened them against a building instead. He was just about to check if it was clear when tires squealed as the car slammed on the brakes. Then the white back-up lights kicked on and the car hurtled towards them.
They’d been spotted.
Chapter Eighteen
“Go, go,” Sawyer urged, pushing Harlow in front of him just as a bullet whizzed by their heads. They were shooting!
She ducked down a small walkway between two buildings. “I hope this isn’t a mistake,” she muttered. They might be trapped. She passed a door and she jerked on it, relieved when it opened. “We can hide in here—”
She turned but Sawyer wasn’t there. Panic welled until she realized he was standing at the end of the walkway, shooting back. He’d removed Duke from the harness and the dog was standing beside him, unwilling to leave his side.
“Duke!”
The dog turned at her command. She bent down and held out her hand. She would be crushed if the dog was hit by a stray bullet. Duke looked back at Sawyer and then at her and he slowly came to her. She scooped him up and praised him for following orders, all the time keeping one eye on Sawyer. “Come-on, come-on,” she urged under her breath.
After what seemed like an eternity, he turned and darted for her. She held the door open and then closed it behind him, engaging the lock. Not that it would do much good against bad guys and bullets.
Numbered doors indicated that the old building housed apartments. It stood about ten stories high. Though her muscles were sore, they ran up the stairs. When they were almost to the top, she heard the door below burst open. Sawyer led them out on the roof. There was nowhere to hide. It was just a matter of time before the troops came up here looking for them.
Sawyer towed her over to the edge. Someone had created a makeshift bridge to the next building with a thick board held down by concrete blocks on each side. Though the gap between the two structures was only eight or nine feet or so, it might as well have been a mile. She didn’t think she could cross it. She wasn’t afraid of heights, necessarily, but she was shaky and didn’t trust her balance.
Sawyer placed his hand on her shoulder. “We have to do this, Harlow.”
She inhaled deeply. He was right. This was about staying alive.
“Do you want to go first or do you want me to?”
“You go.” She needed to gather her courage.
“I could carry you.”
She smiled at him, touched by his offer. “I can do it.”
He bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “There’s more of those waiting for you on the other side.” Then he crossed the bridge as easily as a Wallenda on a tightrope.
After removing Duke from the sling and placing him on the ground, he held out his hand to her. “Easy as pie.”
She could do this. She stepped up and stood on the board. Keeping her eyes trained on Sawyer’s beautiful smile, she crossed the plank. A noise below had her gaze jerking downward and she swayed ominously.
“Harlow.” His voice was stern. “Look at me.”
Her lungs heaving, she did as ordered and focused on his face. One foot in front of the other until she was close enough for him to grab her around the waist and lift her down.
“I knew you could do it.” With one more brush of his lips. He placed her on the ground and she picked up Duke.
“Stand back.”
Sawyer removed the concrete block holding their side down and then yanked the board. It was long, so it took an effort f
or him to maneuver it to the roof. It hit with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. She turned away. He took her hand and they hustled behind the small structure that led to the stairwell. Sawyer tried the knob but it was locked.
Suddenly the door on the other building burst open and men poured onto the roof, glancing all around. They ducked down out of sight. The buildings were close enough she could hear the men jabbering to each other, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, they gave up and filed back inside. Her knees gave out and she plopped to the ground.
“Are you okay?”
“That was close. What are they doing? Searching for anyone left alive so they can kill them?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“How do they know we aren’t part of their cartel?” Surely they weren’t just firing at anyone. Why kill members of their own group?
“We’re not wearing the red berets. That’s Dominar’s call sign. If you don’t have on the beret, they shoot.”
“Oh. What do we do now?”
“We’ll have to wait until dark to try to make it across the river.”
That’s when she heard the thump, thump, thump of helicopter blades.
#
A helo? “Are you kidding me?” Sawyer griped.
“I don’t suppose that would be your coworkers?”
“Unfortunately, no.” It would’ve been nice if he could call Wyatt to come pick them up, but he was afraid an unknown aircraft would be shot out of the sky.
He stood and helped Harlow to her feet. “Stay close to the building.”
Wind from the blades kicked up paper and trash from the rooftop, swirling them around like a tornado. Damn, the bird was close. Using the shadow of the copter as a guide, he led Harlow around the small building, making sure to keep them out of sight of the pilot and anyone else who might be on board. When they maneuvered around to the door again, he kicked at it with his boot. The flimsy lock gave way and it slammed open. They leapt inside, and he pushed it closed, just as the helicopter rounded the building. That was close. Too close.
Quietly, they eased down the steps to the top level. “Hold on.” He grabbed her arm before she could descend further. They needed to wait it out. The troops were most likely outside the building. He didn’t think they’d wait for hours so they needed to kill time until they could escape.
This appeared to be another apartment building. He chose a door that would give them a view of the street so they could see when the troops left. He turned the knob and it opened. Didn’t anyone lock doors in Coslos?
“Hello? Anyone home?”
He eased inside, gun first, Harlow at his back. The apartment was nicely furnished with upscale décor. “Wait here while I clear it.” He dropped his backpack by the kitchen island before he moved through the apartment, checking behind doors and under the king-sized bed. There was no sign of life. The occupant was gone.
He stashed his weapon and returned to Harlow. “It’s deserted. We’ll hang out here until dark.” He flipped a switch, shocked to realize the power still worked. It was probably a matter of time before it went off, but for now, they were good.
“Can we take a shower?”
He smiled at the look of hope on her face. “Sure. I don’t know how long the hot water will work.”
“I’ll even take a cold one.”
He slipped the lock in place and then shoved a heavy hutch against it for good measure.
Harlow had placed Duke on the floor and he shook his whole body and then scampered around, sniffing everything. Sawyer filled a bowl with food and water and Duke pounced.
“We can—” Words died in his throat when he looked up and saw Harlow leaving a trail of clothes in her haste to shower.
You’re on the job, she’s a client, he repeated in his head, but the words didn’t seem to penetrate. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He knew it was wrong. His job was to protect her, not jump on her like a teenager. But damn, she made him feel like one. Like a first crush you couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Sawyer?”
“Hum?”
“Maybe it would be better if we conserved the hot water and you know…showered together?”
Chapter Nineteen
Harlow froze at her words. What had possessed her to invite Sawyer to shower with her? To drop her shorts and leave them lying in the hallway? She wasn’t shy, but she wasn’t usually so bold with men. She’d wanted Sawyer Oldham since the moment she met him. Getting to know him better only deepened the feelings. He was everything she could want in a man.
When he just stared at her, heat flooded her cheeks. She shouldn’t have said anything. Now things would be awkward. Yes, they’d kissed, but that could’ve been reactions to adrenaline. It wasn’t for her, but maybe for him.
“Forget I said—”
In two steps, Sawyer had reached her and slammed his lips against hers. She whimpered, helpless against his unleashed passion. He slid his hands around her face and then he was ravishing her mouth, angling her head to kiss her deeper, his tongue sliding inside to tangle with hers.
The world tilted and at first she thought it was from his amazing kisses. Then she realized he’d picked her up and was carrying her to the bathroom. He eased her down his body and the proof of his desire was unmistakable.
She reached for the hem of her t-shirt dress, but he grabbed her hands, stilling her. “That’s my job. But first…” He slid his hands under her wig and lifted it off. Then he removed the pins holding her real hair up, releasing it. It was a sweaty, frizzy, ash-covered mess, but he was enthralled, running his fingers through the strands and letting them fall before starting over again.
“I need to take the contacts out, too.” She’d removed the dental bridge as soon as they entered the apartment.
He glanced around the bathroom and opened drawers and cabinets, giving a shout of triumph when he found a bottle of solution. She carefully popped them out and placed them on a tissue. Her eyes felt gritty from the grime in the air. She knew they had to be red. Hopefully the tenant had a bottle of eye drops, too. When she turned, he grabbed her again and kissed her, causing all thoughts of her itchy eyes to flee.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he said, trailing kisses across her jaw and down to her neck before returning to her lips.
As amazing as his lips felt, she was self-conscious about how horrid she smelled. After days on the run, beneath a bullet-proof vest and carrying a heavy backpack, she knew it wasn’t pretty. Sawyer smelled masculine and earthy and she could drink him in. “Need to wash off the dust,” she managed between kisses.
“I’m getting there,” he responded as he maneuvered them close to the stand-up stall. With one hand, he turned the crank and water cascaded down from a rain head shower. Then he reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly peeled it over her head. The vest came off next and then his brows narrowed. His fingers gingerly traced the bandage.
“How does it feel?”
She’d actually forgotten about it. “Fine.” She reached for him, afraid he would try to stop this if he thought it would hurt her, but he grabbed her hands, and held them to her side. Then he knelt down in front of her. Goose bumps erupted along her tummy. He carefully peeled away the bandage to reveal the cut. It looked worse than it felt, and she told him so.
“It’ll be good to clean it off,” he murmured, a finger tracing the scar. “I’ll rebandage it after the shower.”
They both had bumps and bruises and small cuts from their brush with the suicide bomber. Small cuts that needed to be tended to…after.
“Sawyer?”
“Hum?”
“Kiss me.”
He rose to his feet and did just that.
#
Sawyer felt like the luckiest man in the world. He had Harlow in his arms and in a few more seconds, they would both be naked. He hoped like hell he could summon control from somewhere to hold on and make it good for her.<
br />
Her hands planted against his stomach and then she was lifting his shirt off. He made quick work of his Kevlar vest, and the various weapons strapped to his body. Before he tossed his cargos aside, he whipped out a condom that he’d placed in the pocket just in case, and then he was standing before her in his black boxer-briefs that hid nothing.
“You are so gorgeous,” she whispered, her fingers tracing his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. He gritted his teeth, hanging on to control by a thread. She found one of the bullet holes that marred his body and he didn’t want to think about that, so he removed the pouch strapped around her belly that held her passport. Next, he reached for her sports bra and lifted it off. His knees buckled. Have mercy. She was perfection. He shaped his hands to her breasts and she gasped. He kissed her again and lifted her, carrying her to the shower stall. The water was warm and soothing as it pounded on their skin. He leaned down to taste her pink nipple. She cried out and grasped his head, holding him in place.
“Sawyer, please. I need you. I can’t wait.”
Since she asked so nicely… He pressed her against the marble tiles, sheathed himself and reached down to make sure she was ready. Then with one sharp thrust, he was inside her. They both groaned at the contact. He froze at the sensation as her inner muscles gripped him like a velvet fist, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He wanted to stay like this forever, but his body was like a run-away freight train, racing for completion. He had to move. He tried to go slow, sliding in and out in exquisite torture, but she was having nothing of it. She urged him on with her hands and legs she’d wrapped around his waist. Her small heels dug into him like she was urging a horse to gallop, and then they were both coming together, their cries of release mingling together. He slapped a hand against the tile, coming so hard, he almost lost consciousness. His legs threatened to buckle.
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