Wild on You

by Tina Wainscott

  He had approached a suspicious scene many a time, had come up on potential ambushes, but he’d never felt before. All emotion usually fled in such scenarios, necessary for clarity of thought. Now fear pounded through him. All he could see was Addie’s face, turned to the side against the ground, as he came around the front of the van. Then a bulky guy sitting on her as if she were a rodeo calf.

  Sitting on her. Holy hell, Risk now knew the meaning of seeing red. An older guy stood to the side with a gun pointed at her. Neither man saw his approach, too focused on her. Risk shot the piece right out of his hand. The guy stumbled back, taken off guard because Risk’s gun was suppressed. His eyes bugged out at the sight of Risk’s gun, aimed at him.

  “Move away from her.” Risk shifted his gun to the dude who looked like a wrestler, as square as a brick with no sign of a neck.

  The man scrambled to his feet, Addie clamped in his arms like a shield. Coward. He stepped in front of the older guy. “Got you covered, Alan.” He aimed a smug look at Risk. “Shoot us and hit the girl.”

  The guy was smarter than he looked. Especially when he pulled out a gun of his own and held it to Addie’s side. “This doesn’t concern you. This here girl’s a criminal. We’re taking her to the police.” He nodded toward the van, though Risk couldn’t see inside from his angle. “Caught her stealing.”

  Risk dared a glance at Addie’s face, knowing it was going to kill him to see her fear. Yeah, she looked scared, all right, and just as pissed. Though her shirt and pants were covered in dirt, she seemed mostly unhurt. He was going to make damned sure she stayed that way, a tricky proposition, considering the two thugs had her and a gun.

  “Then why don’t I call the cops?” Risk reached for his phone.

  The wrestler shoved his gun into Addie’s side so hard that she yelped. “Don’t touch the phone. We’ll handle it.”

  Alan crooked his hand. “Gimme the gun, hotshot.”

  Without his gun, the odds of this situation working out well were not going to be in Risk’s favor. No-neck pressed his muzzle into Addie’s side even harder when Risk hesitated. If Addie were one of his SEAL team members, he’d give her a signal that would convey Be ready to react. He met her eyes and lowered his chin just a bit. Amazingly, she blinked as if she’d gotten it.

  “Gimme the dang gun!” Alan shouted.

  Addie shoved the wrestler off balance so they both careened to the ground. As Alan went for the gun that had gone flying, Risk fired. The bullet hit his shoulder. Alan jerked back, and Risk dove into the scuffle happening between Addie and No-neck. He stopped at the sight of the guy holding the gun to her head.

  “Back off, asshole! And drop your gun!” No-neck jerked Addie to her feet, one hand gripping her arm. She grimaced at the muzzle jammed against her temple, her body stiff. “You all right, Alan?”

  “I’ll live.” Alan got to his feet, holding his shoulder and wincing. Blood spurted out between his fingers. He aimed a hard look at Risk. “We’re not fooling around. Drop the damned weapon.”

  Risk’s fingers twitched as he assessed the situation. The man holding Addie was so tensed, anything could make him pull the trigger. Risk couldn’t chance it. He tossed the Glock a few feet in front of him, already thinking about how best to retrieve his reserve weapon.

  Alan grabbed Risk’s brand-new gun and turned it to the side. “Nice. Always wanted one of these.” He gestured with his chin. “Doug, put her in the van.” He shoved the gun toward Risk when he reacted to those last words. “We’re going to have a talk with the young lady here about violating the law, is all.”

  Risk had felt this kind of frustration and helplessness during an ambush in Afghanistan when one of his comrades had been captured … and then blown to bits only yards away. Risk’s shrapnel scars were proof of what a lucky bastard he was. That brought him no comfort, not when his buddy was gone.

  The wrestler—Doug—shoved Addie into the passenger side. Risk could see her pretending to be off-balance, so he had to struggle to keep the gun on her and close the door.

  Addie, don’t do anything crazy and get yourself shot.

  Alan climbed in on the driver’s side. Before he closed the door, he took a shot at Risk, who had seen it coming; he dove to the side, rolling on the ground. Before he could jump to his feet, the van backed toward him. He flattened, pulling his arms in straight, and the van rolled over him. Problem was, as soon as it cleared him, he was in plain sight—and directly in front of the van. He somersaulted out of the way a second before the front bumper would have driven into his head.

  “Shoot him!” he heard Alan shout through the open driver’s window.

  “I’m having enough trouble keeping the crazy animal broad under control.”

  Addie, dammit—

  Risk didn’t have time to finish the thought. He grabbed the back bumper as the van had another try at him. He clamped his legs on to it, muscles straining at the lack of any real purchase. The van lurched forward, nearly dislodging him.

  “Where is he?” Alan growled. “Look out your mirror.”

  “I don’t see him.”

  The vehicle made a sudden stop, then started careening backward—right toward a big-assed oak tree. This time Risk could grab the rear door handle and pull himself to the side a second before the van hit the trunk. He barely held on by his fingertips as the vehicle pulled forward. The van turned in a circle as the son of a bitch looked for him.

  Enough of this shit.

  He hoisted himself up to the roof, landing as softly as possible. The last time he’d done this, it had been pitch dark in the godforsaken desert, and cold as hell. He clambered across the roof, staying low to keep his balance. Getting as good a grip as he could, he swung his body into the open driver’s window, driving his feet into Alan’s head.

  He put so much pissed-off energy into it that he shoved Alan into Addie and sent her and the wrestler tumbling right out the passenger door. Risk seized his gun from the console as Alan lunged for the wheel. The poor cub was screaming up a storm, though at least the cage was still upright.

  He didn’t have time to worry about the cub or Alan; he jumped out the open passenger door in a dive roll. He ended up with an awkward grip on his Glock, and it flew out of his hand as he came up. Addie was wrestling for control of Doug’s revolver, a sight that sent Risk’s heart sputtering with fear. The guy was probably three times her size. And gun wrestling wasn’t a great idea in itself.

  Seeing Risk coming, Addie released her hold on it and scooted out of the way. Risk slammed his open hand into the side of Doug’s head, sending him flat to the ground. But the bastard still gripped the gun. Doug brought the muzzle around, but Risk blocked him, then reached for it.

  Doug pulled his arm back to punch Risk, but Addie latched on to his overcooked biceps to hold him back. Risk twisted around and kicked the guy in the abs. Addie grunted with the strain of trying to hold his arm.

  “I’ve got it, Addie. Back off. You’re going to get hurt.”

  She was looking beyond Risk, her eyes wide. “Watch out!”

  He didn’t need to look; he heard the van coming. He wrapped his arms around her in a tackle and sent them rolling across the ground. The van stopped, and Doug scurried inside. He aimed the gun at them, and Risk continued the roll as bullets spat dirt only inches away. He jerked her to her feet as another bullet hit a tree a foot away. He pulled her into the trees, where they grew too close together for the van to penetrate.

  Stymied, Alan tore off in the other direction, and Risk heard another gunshot. No sign of it coming this way.

  “They’re taking my van!” she said between breaths, staring after the vehicle. “The cub …”

  “Hell, woman, you almost got yourself killed, and you’re worried about a tiger?”

  Her chest rose and fell with her gasps. “That tiger is why I’m here.”

  He shook his head, but he couldn’t stop looking her over to make sure she was unhurt. “Forget about the cat for a second. A
re you all right?” The sight of those guys with her, the gun to her head … the memory clenched his stomach all over again.

  “I’m fine.” She shook her head a little too vigorously. “Totally fine.”

  Women in combat reacted differently to an attack, remaining steady in the moment and then getting an overload of adrenaline twenty minutes later. Men reacted in the moment, their adrenaline spiking immediately but fading faster.

  He checked his watch. He’d be ready. “Come on, I need to get my gun.” The Glock lay on the disturbed earth where they’d fought. He scooped it up and checked it, then saw what they’d shot at the last time: the SUV’s rear tire. “They wanted to make sure we didn’t follow in the car they brought.”

  “Now we can find out who it’s registered to.”

  “I doubt it.” He checked the interior and saw the wires hanging down below the dashboard. “It’s stolen. Hotwired.” He pointed to a roll of duct tape and some plastic ties between the front seats. “These guys aren’t just trying to scare you, Addie. Do you see that now?”

  She nodded, looking so vulnerable and scared that it was all he could do not to stalk over and pull her into his arms. He needed her to be scared.

  He pointed to a wrinkled glove. “They wore gloves, which means they didn’t leave any prints.”

  Three men were running through the woods toward them. More goons. Risk hauled her toward the van he’d brought. When he headed to the driver’s side, she ran to the passenger side. The men faded into the distance as he hauled ass out of there.

  Once they were on the highway, Risk said, “Your little scheme was a goat rope, for sure, but figuring out how we’re going to manage this situation is a real mess. I ought to throw you over my knee and spank you for sneaking off like that.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t dare me. Because I will.”

  She gave him an indignant look with a flare of challenge in her eyes. “You wouldn’t, because that would be very unprofessional.”

  “Maybe so, but you know what Chase tells us as well as our clients? We run our missions in the best way we see fit. And right now I’m fit to lay you across my thighs and smack that behind of yours for putting yourself in danger.” And scaring the hell out of me.

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You’re bluffing.”

  He pulled down a country lane and out of sight of the highway, then stopped the van. She looked around nervously, and her eyes grew big when he stood up. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Not bluffing.” He scooped her up around that little waist and carried her between the seats to the back. He had to follow through, because if he didn’t, she’d never take his threats seriously.

  “Hey, put me down!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” And he did, facedown over his thighs. When she wriggled, he placed a hand on her lower back to hold her still. Then he smacked that fine, tight ass of hers.

  She squealed. “I can’t believe you—”

  Another smack. Another squeal.

  “Did your dad ever wallop you for misbehaving?” he asked.

  “No, never!”

  “Well, he should have.” Another smack. He let his hand rest on her behind for just a second before giving her one more.

  She wasn’t trying to wriggle off his lap anymore. Interesting.

  He liked her there, maybe a bit too much. He leaned down close to her ear. “Don’t run off. Don’t disobey me. And don’t dare me. It’s how I earned my nickname.”

  At that she slid off, rubbing her behind and shooting him a pout. “That was uncalled for.” Behind the shock and annoyance lurked a spark of heat. Very interesting.

  “So was leaving me to the goats.”

  She threw herself into the passenger seat, then winced. “They had duct tape and cable ties.”

  “Yes.” He took his seat, facing her. “They were going to abduct you. They don’t want you dead; they want you for some other reason. And I’ll guarantee it isn’t good.”

  She shivered, and her adrenaline rush started to kick in. She was trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around her. “You shot that guy.”

  He merely nodded.

  Her face had gone pale, and it hit him: Unlike him, she wasn’t used to this kind of violence. Shooting a guy in the shoulder was nothing for him. Hell, at least he hadn’t splattered the guy’s brains all over. And yeah, he’d done that before, too.

  He placed his hand on her thigh. “You all right?”

  She met his gaze. “And he tried to run you over.”

  “Yep.” Having guys trying to kill him was all in a day’s work. It wasn’t personal. He was just another “evil American” to those brainwashed soldiers. For Addie, this was very personal. They wanted her.

  She stared at his hand, dirty and scraped. Then she gathered it in her hands like it was some delicate thing. It made him feel funny, that gentle touch. “All because I ran off.”

  “Which you’re not going to do again.” He brushed her chin with his other hand, lifting her face to look at him. “It’s okay. Breathe. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three.”

  She obeyed, thank God. He watched as her imminent freak-out dissipated with each breath. Only when the determined gleam returned to her eyes did he realize he was still touching her chin. Her skin was soft, like silk. He reluctantly pulled away.

  She stared at his hand that she was still holding. “I’m not letting them get away with this. They took that cub.”

  “And, uh, tried to kill you. Let’s not forget that part.”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sucked.”

  Ah, she was shoving it in a box. He knew that box well. His own, at least.

  “We should call the police,” he said. “We’re talking attempted kidnapping here. Attempted homicide.”

  She was shaking her head. “You’ll end up in the news again. Chase might fire you for losing me. I might get arrested for stealing the cub. Those men would probably kill the cub to get rid of evidence that would tie them to me once it hits the news. Oh God, it would be all over the news, how I was trying to steal the cub and got ambushed. And my father would know I defied him.” She implored him with those pretty blue eyes. “You know how things can get really screwed up, Risk. How you think you’re doing the right thing and everything goes to hell.”

  “Don’t you pull that card on me.” Or those big eyes tugging at me.

  “We don’t know who they are, and we have no proof of anything—other than that I was stealing a tiger cub. So you’re off the job, my father locks me up, and the police investigate. Maybe. Or maybe they think I’m one of those extremists who brought this on herself.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

  She released his hand and slapped his arm. “No! I’ve only done slightly illegal things to save an animal in a desperate situation.”

  When he couldn’t help wincing, she said, “I didn’t slap you that hard!”

  “I landed on that side when I jumped out of the van.”

  She brushed her hand down the side of his arm, wiping away the dirt. “I’m sorry. I put you in a bad situation. And … you saved my life. If you hadn’t been there … I don’t even want to think about what would have happened.”

  The soft feel of her fingers tingled down his arm. “That’s my job.” It was nice to save lives rather than just taking them.

  Her hand came to a stop, resting against his arm. “We have to figure this out on our own. Find out who’s behind it, get proof, and go to the police with something they can use. That’s how we’re going to keep me safe, Risk. Instead of sitting around twiddling our thumbs and waiting for what? Someone to call and say, ‘Okay, we’ve got the perps. Go back to your life now’? No, it’s going to be, ‘Well, we just don’t know.’ My father won’t be able to justify keeping you on. I’m sure you’re not cheap. If these people want me bad enough, they’ll wait it out.” She put her finger to his collarbone. “You’re not a sitting-around kind of
guy.”

  Dammit, he felt the lure of the chase, the pull of Addie herself. Oh yeah, he and Addie were a dangerous combination, all right. But you already knew that.

  “Addie, my job is to keep you safe. Snooping around a potential murderer does not fit that description.”

  She released a long sigh, appearing to capitulate. “Then we hole up at my ranch and wait. You can help me with the animals. I know you’re really good with goats.”

  Risk let out a harrumph. He knew the police weren’t getting anywhere, which wasn’t their fault. And the would-be kidnappers had left few clues. First names and descriptions might help, but not if they were hired thugs. A surveillance camera might have caught the guys stealing the car, but that was a long shot.

  “We’ll wait on contacting the police. For now.”

  She smiled in relief, and that alone was almost worth having given in.

  A cell phone rang, trilling with a woman singing about wanting to get a little bit closer. Addie wrestled the phone out of a pocket halfway down her thigh. “Shirley,” she said before answering. She listened to whatever the woman was saying in a rather shrill voice. “What? … Oh no … I’m on my way. I don’t have to check with the hunky—Oh.” She cut a glance to him. “Yeah, I do actually … He’s saying what?” She made a pained face. “Okay, keep me updated.” She disconnected.

  “Since I doubt Shirley sounds shrill and excited often, something must be going on at the protest.”

  “Carrigan showed up. He’s telling everyone, including the press, that I stole his cub.” She bit the tip of her finger. “He’s playing the victim, harassed by the crazy activist woman.”

  “And what was that about checking in with the hunky …”

  She gave him a quick, forced smile. “She suggested I come down, but she knew I had to check in with you. Hunky was her word.”

  He gave her the same kind of forced smile. “Nice of her to notice. You’re not going. That’s the last place you need to be right now.”

  “No, you’re right.”

  He blinked. “You’re agreeing?” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Or are you planning on ditching me?”