On the Chase

by Katie Ruggle

  “Eyes on me, princess,” the stranger with the gun ordered, and Grace whipped her head around, irrationally worried that he’d know Tio actually was half of a matching pair. The barrel of the gun was pointed right at her chest, and she squeezed her eyes closed as she fought the need to run. Even if she got away, she couldn’t leave Jules and the kids to the mercy of this armed criminal.

  Opening her eyes, Grace met the gaze of the man holding it. Instantly, she wished she hadn’t. His expression was cold and empty. There was no panic or sympathy or remorse. In fact, there was a spark of sick pleasure. He was enjoying their fear, his control over whether they lived or died. The gun shifted to point at the group of kids, and Grace’s stomach instantly cramped. It had been horrible being the target, but having the gun directed at the children was so much worse.

  Dee made a small sound, a quickly muffled whimper of terror, and Grace felt rage build, pushing out some of her overwhelming fear. How dare this man frighten a little girl, frighten all of them?

  “Hey!” she snapped, and the word sounded painfully loud and brittle. “Quit picking on the kids.”

  It worked. He pointed the gun at her again, and her heart crashed to a stop. “Bossy. Why do the pretty ones have to be so mouthy?”

  She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to keep his focus off the kids and delay whatever terrible thing he had planned, but a sharp pinch at her side startled her into silence. If there hadn’t been a gun pointed at them, Grace would’ve glared at Jules.

  “Why do the ugly ones have to carry guns?” Jules shot back. Instantly, Grace understood her plan. It was the same one as Grace had: get the focus—and the danger—directed at her, rather than the others. She and Jules were in the middle of a martyr-off, apparently.

  The man just gave them an unpleasant smile, the gun steady in his hand. “As pretty as the two of you are, and as much fun as we could have, I’m afraid that your cop friend is worth a lot more cash. Sorry about that.”

  With that, he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 14

  It felt wrong to leave them, to walk away from Grace and Jules and the kids. Even though Hugh knew they’d be safer there, it still was hard to have them—Grace especially—out of sight. He glanced down at Lexi, who was plunging eagerly forward, showing no sign of soreness and doing her very best to make his rope-burned hand shriek with pain. He’d considered leaving her with Grace and the others for protection, but he and Lexi were partners. The dog was used to working with Hugh, and he had a feeling she would’ve protested, loudly, if he’d left her behind. Calling attention to their hiding place would not have made them safer.

  Shaking off his misgivings, Hugh increased his pace, ignoring the pain shooting through his thigh and hands—through pretty much his entire body, actually. There was no part of him that didn’t hurt after pulling Grace and Lexi off the porch the day before. The thought of it made his stomach burn. When he’d seen them on the collapsing deck, Grace clinging to the railing as she clutched Lexi’s harness, both of them only a second away from falling to their deaths, his mind had blanked with sheer terror. Thank God for his training. He’d gone on automatic pilot, grabbing the rope and tying it to a leg of his very heavy—thankfully—dining room table.

  His boot slid slightly on some loose rock, and Theo gave him a warning glance. Hugh shook off the residual terror and concentrated on where he was putting his feet. If he didn’t focus, he was going to get them all killed. He gave Lexi’s leash a tug, and she quit pulling. The relief on his hand was immediate.

  Otto had taken the lead, and he held up a hand as he reached a switchback in the trail. Instead of continuing down the path, he looked over the drop-off. Hugh and Theo both stopped next to him, peering down to an outcropping of rocks right below them.

  There were two men, one looking through binoculars at Otto’s house. The other one was focusing through the scope of a rifle. A surge of rage flooded Hugh, against Truman and every asshole who was trying to kill him. The kids had been outside. This fucker had pointed a rifle at them. His truck had been blown up, and his deck sabotaged. They’d been stalked and attacked. Lexi had almost died, and so had Grace—three times.

  Fury gave him speed and courage, sending him sprinting down the trail, Lexi running in front of him. It was rough and steep, but his feet managed to find traction. They stayed quiet, and it wasn’t until they were just six feet above the two killers-for-hire before the man with the binoculars looked up.

  As soon as their gazes met, Hugh commanded, “Lexi, bite!” and let go of the leash. She leapt at the man. The one with the rifle gave a shout of surprise as he scrambled to get up, but Hugh tackled him. They connected with a mutual grunt, and the sniper fell onto his back with Hugh on top. The impulsion from his forward motion slid them across loose rock toward the edge of the ledge. Their heads and then shoulders dangled over the drop-off, and the distant and jagged rocks below them made Hugh instantly dizzy.

  Hands grabbed his leg—his bad leg, of course—sending shock waves of pain through him but stopping both of them before they plunged off the cliff. Someone else grabbed his other calf, and he and the gunman were hauled back onto solid ground. As soon as they weren’t in danger of plunging to their deaths, Hugh cocked his arm back and punched the would-be assassin in the face, knocking his head against the rock under them. The sniper’s eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.

  Resisting the urge to punch him again, Hugh checked for a pulse instead. It was strong and steady. Part of Hugh—a pretty good-sized part—was happy the guy would have a pounding headache when he regained consciousness. He deserved every bit of misery he would experience.

  “You okay?” Otto asked, offering a hand up.

  Hugh accepted it with a hand that shook with the last vestiges of rage and adrenaline. “Yeah. Felt good to hit him.”

  “I’m sure.” With a small grin, Otto moved to the unconscious man, turning him onto his front and cuffing his hands behind his back.

  The other guy was yelling, trying to pull away from Lexi, but she held on, her tail churning in happy circles. As usual, it was a game to her, whether training with a sleeve or on a mountainside with a grip on a guy who wanted to kill her partner. He, as well as everyone else, was just a playmate.

  With Viggy barking at his side, Theo looked at Hugh. “Enough?”

  Hugh waited another few seconds before releasing Lexi, who immediately ran over for her reward. He automatically pulled her tug toy from his BDU pocket. As Lexi grabbed the other end and started pulling on it, Hugh wanted to laugh. It was just so bizarre to be standing on a rocky ledge, playing tug with Lexi, as two men who wanted him dead looked on—well, at least one of them did. The other wasn’t looking at anything except the inside of his eyelids.

  “Anytime you’re done having fun, Hugh,” Theo muttered, his arm muscles bulging with the effort of holding Viggy back. The man Lexi had taken down was still on the ground. Every time he shifted as if to get to his feet, Viggy launched into another round of ferocious barking, and the man subsided, eyeing the dog warily.

  “Good girl, Lex,” Hugh praised, returning the toy to his pocket. When he automatically reached for his cuff case, however, there was nothing there, and he mentally cursed his required medical leave for the thousandth time. “Can I use your cuffs, Theo?”

  “I’m on it,” Otto said before Theo could respond. Even though this one was conscious, the man didn’t fight much more than the sniper had. Theo hushed Viggy, and silence settled over the mountainside as the three of them eyed the two cuffed suspects.

  Hugh’s head was starting to throb along with the rest of his body. “Yeah. So…what’s the easiest way to get them down?”

  “Push them over the edge and let them roll to the bottom,” Theo stated. When Hugh and Otto frowned at him, he shrugged. “You said the easiest.”

  With a silent sigh, Otto bent to turn over the uncons
cious man. Hauling him off the ground, he slung him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Hugh grabbed the other man by his upper arm and helped him to his feet.

  “Hey,” the guy complained. “Not so rough.”

  Hugh stared at him for a long moment and then turned to Theo. “I say we go with your plan A. Let’s toss ’em over.”

  His eyes bulging, the man started protesting, and Theo smirked. Rolling his eyes, Otto started down the path that Hugh assumed led into the valley. They’d only gone a few feet when there was a crack from above them. Hugh ducked automatically, his body recognizing the sound even before his brain caught on a half second later.

  It was a gunshot.

  Grace. Her name echoed in Hugh’s head as a wave of blind rage flooded through him. If she’d been shot, if something had happened to her while they’d been dealing with these two, then he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions. Anger and terror clawed at his insides, shredding his logic and common sense.

  With a wordless roar, he tore back up the mountain, ready to tear apart anyone who dared to harm her. He could still hear the echoes of the gunshot, and they shook him to his core. She had to be okay. She had to.

  If she wasn’t, he’d rip apart the pile of rocks they stood on until he found the man who’d hurt her…and then Hugh would make him bleed.

  * * *

  The sound of the gun echoed through the valley, bouncing from mountain face to mountain face. Grace braced herself for impact, for pain. At this range, there was no way she’d survive. There was no blow of the bullet hitting any part of her body, though. There was no searing agony of it tearing through fragile organs and tissue and muscle. There was only the echo, and even that was fading.

  When she blinked her eyes open again, she saw the man’s grinning face. Dropping her head, she ran her frantic gaze over her front. She wasn’t hit. The first emotion that flowed through her was sheer exhilaration, but then reality returned with a thump.

  If she hadn’t been shot, then who had?

  Twisting around, her eyes found Jules first. The other woman was openmouthed with shock, her gaze ripping over Grace’s body, down to her feet and then back up again, with such a look of amazed disbelief that Grace knew Jules thought she’d been shot, too. There were no holes in her, though, and no blood. She quickly sought out Sam and Ty and Dee, but they were all upright and wound free.

  No one had been shot. Grace took a gasping breath, her first in what felt like hours. Blood rushed to her head, sending sparks across her vision, and she swayed. Jules grabbed her arm, as if to help hold her up, and Grace straightened, trying to breathe normally.

  Then anger roared through her, and she tried to surge forward, to tackle the asshole who’d scared her so badly, but Jules’s grip tightened, holding her back. The man with the gun laughed.

  “That’ll bring him running,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “The cop.”

  “Which one?” Grace spat out, furious. Jules might be able to physically restrain her, but Grace still had control of what came out of her mouth.

  “The one who’s going to pay for my retirement in Mexico.” The gunman grinned again, showing off teeth that were brown around the edges.

  The rage was back. This motherfucker was planning to kill Hugh. Without thinking, without considering the pros or cons of her nonexistent plan, Grace just acted, lunging forward and tackling the guy.

  She’d forgotten the gun until it went off again. It roared too close to her ear, making the world fall silent, but she couldn’t stop now. She took him by surprise, and her momentum carried them to the rock face behind him. They smashed against the unforgiving surface, and he grunted as they connected.

  The surprise wouldn’t last. Grace knew she had to be quick and thorough. Despite her too-fast heartbeat and shallow breaths, her thoughts were clear. She had to take him down before he recovered, because he would shoot her. There was no question. He would kill her and throw her off the cliff, and then he’d kill everyone else there.

  Grace couldn’t let that happen.

  She clawed at his face, driving her fingertips into the soft parts of his face, his eyes and nose and cheeks, making him scream. A remote, strange part of her regretted her new post-manicure style of short nails. She couldn’t help but imagine how much damage she could have accomplished with the talons she used to sport.

  It wasn’t enough. He was recovering from her surprise attack. She could feel the strength in him, the intention of destroying her, and she had to stop it. Reaching down to his right hand, she grabbed his gun and twisted, hard.

  There was another scream, and a tiny, bloodthirsty part of her was glad that she’d hurt him. The rest of her was shrieking, terrified and amazed that it had worked. His fingers loosened, and she was able to rip the gun out of his grip. As soon as Grace felt the give, as soon as the weapon was in her possession, she scrambled back, toppling onto her butt while keeping the gun pointed at the wannabe killer.

  It felt wretchedly good, having the same power he’d taunted them with. She could shoot him. She didn’t want to, but now she was the one with the ability to end his life, rather than him taking her life or the kids’ lives or Jules’s life. It filled her with heady power, and she gave him a grin—a ferocious, terrifying grin—taking pleasure when he flinched back.

  “Turn over on your stomach and put your hands behind your back,” she ordered, hating how her voice got squeaky at the end. She’d watched Hugh and Theo handcuff the biker, so she knew the basic position he needed to be in. The only problem was how to secure him without any restraints. “Hey, Tio?”

  “Yeah?” She wasn’t the only one with a trembling voice.

  “In this situation, is there anything we could use to tie up this guy?”

  “I have a belt.” His answer was quick and sounded steadier. “There’s our shoelaces, too, and our clothes and—”

  “Perfect.” She gave the stranger another grin, showing all of her teeth. “This is what you get for coming after a science nerd.”

  “Hey!”

  Ignoring Tio’s protest, Grace kept her gaze locked on the guy. He was looking too cocky for her peace of mind. The guy was planning something. “Over on your stomach.”

  “Come on, pretty—”

  “On your stomach!” she said again, louder. If he didn’t obey, she might have to shoot him, and she wasn’t sure if she could do that. She hoped desperately, for all of their sakes, that she wouldn’t fail them when it mattered. However, there was no way of knowing if she could do it until she actually pulled the trigger and put a hole in another human being.

  He made a big show of slowly starting to turn, but then his muscles tensed. It was happening. The man pushed off the ground, lunging toward her in the same motion. Her finger tightened on the trigger, fear and horror zigzagging through her.

  He crumpled to the ground.

  Grace stared. She hadn’t pulled the trigger. She’d been about to, but she hadn’t actually shot him. She was sure of that.

  She just couldn’t figure out why he’d collapsed. She kept the gun steady, pointing it at his chest, and tried to make her brain work again.

  “What just happened?” There was a strong note of hysteria in her voice, but she couldn’t blame herself. The guy had fallen down before she’d shot him. Had he fainted? Had she really shot him, but just hadn’t heard the noise or seen the flash or smelled the gunpowder or felt the recoil? No. She hadn’t shot him.

  “Very nice,” Tio said, and Grace glanced at him, confused. He wasn’t looking at her, though, but at a spot twenty feet above the unconscious man.

  Grace followed his gaze to see Ty’s grinning face peering over a protruding ledge. “What’d you do?”

  “Dropped a rock on his head.” He sounded surprisingly calm about it.

  “Oh.” In contrast, her voice was sh
aky. “Nice aim.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned at her.

  “Titus.” Jules didn’t sound calm, either. “You will climb down off that rock, and you will make your way back to us very carefully, and then you are grounded for the next five years.”

  Although he obeyed quickly, he was still smiling as he made his way toward them.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Jules said, her voice getting higher and faster with each word. Her Southern drawl thickened until it was hard to understand what she was saying. “I can’t believe you hung over a cliff and dropped a rock on a man! What if you’d fallen? What if you’d missed? What if Grace hadn’t done that insane thing and gotten his gun, and he’d shot you? What if—” Her words ended abruptly as she yanked him into a hug. “If you ever scare me like that again, I am going to kill you myself, understand?”

  From the way his yes came out as a breathless grunt, Grace figured that Jules was squeezing him very, very tightly. Tio and Dee joined the hug, and a white-faced Sam hovered close by, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  “Hey, everyone?” Grace said, her eyes still locked on the unconscious man. “A little help would be nice.”

  “Oh!” Jules and the kids ended their family hug and hurried over. “Sorry!”

  “I’ve got this.” Tio started toward the immobile form while pulling his belt free of the loops, but Jules caught him by the back of the shirt.

  “No.”

  Sam silently took Tio’s belt from his hand and moved to roll the man over onto his stomach. When Jules made a sound of protest, her brother ignored her and quickly secured the guy’s feet together. Tio tossed him both shoelaces, and Sam caught them before using both to tie the man’s wrists. Once the stranger was secure, Sam moved back to stand by his siblings.

  “What should we do with the gun?” Grace asked. Now that the man was unarmed, unconscious, and restrained, her adrenaline was leaking away, leaving her arms shaky.

  “Give it to me.” Jules’s voice was confident, but her face showed just how terrified she was as she reached toward the gun. Grace happily relinquished the weapon. Now that the immediacy was over, she was realizing just how gun ignorant she was. The only two times she’d ever touched a gun, she’d grabbed them away from guys who wanted to shoot her. It was a habit she really needed to stop. Once Jules took the gun and Grace’s hands were empty again, she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her mind, too.