by Paige Tyler
What the hell was the man doing? Then Noah saw him jerk out the cop’s gun, and he knew exactly was Moore thought he was doing.
Shit.
“Stay back!” Moore ordered, swinging the weapon back and forth between Noah, the cop, and the startled TSA agents. “Everyone stay back!”
Moore didn’t need to tell anyone twice. All around Noah, frightened people ducked for cover.
Noah held up his hands and stepped closer to Moore. “Take it easy, huh? I don’t care about the book. I just want to know where Peyton is.”
The gun trembled in Moore’s hands. “Peyton’s fine. I’ll call and tell you where she is after I get where I’m going.”
Moore couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to think the cops and TSA were going to let him get on a plane after this, was he?
Noah opened his mouth to urge Moore to put the gun down and tell him where Peyton was, but a sharp voice cut him off.
“Drop the gun and put your hands in the air! Now!”
Out of the corner or his eye, Noah saw a second cop had arrived and was aiming his weapon at Moore. Shit, could this get any worse?
“Don’t shoot him,” Noah told the cop. “He kidnapped a woman and he’s the only one who knows where she is.”
The cop glanced at him sideways, then turned his attention back to Moore. “Put down the gun nice and slow and step away.”
“Do as he says,” Noah said. “It’s the only way out of this.”
Moore went back and forth between Noah and the cop, shaking his head.
The cop’s finger tightened around the trigger. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
Noah bit back a curse. If Moore didn’t surrender soon, the cop was going to take him out. Noah tensed, ready to tackle Moore and wrestle the weapon from his hands when a gunshot rang out.
Moore crumpled to the floor, the gun sliding harmlessly out of his grip, blood staining the front of his shirt.
Noah was on the floor beside him in a flash. He gripped Moore’s chin, turning his head so he could look at him. Moore gazed up at him in shock and confusion.
“Tell me where Peyton is,” Noah urged.
“She’s…”
Moore’s voice was weak, and Noah had to lean close to hear him.
“She’s in…”
“She’s where?” Noah demanded.
Moore didn’t answer.
Noah lifted his head to see Moore staring up at him with a blank look in his gray eyes. The son of a bitch was dead.
Shit.
Noah got to his feet, fear like he’d never felt before gripping him. Around him, TSA agents were trying to calm the gathered crowd even as the cop who had killed Moore spoke rapid-fire words into the radio mic attached to his shoulder.
How the hell was he supposed to find Peyton now?
He pulled out his cell and started to dial the number for GAPS, but then stopped. When Peyton had wanted to find her phone the other day, she’d used the Find My Phone app. What if rescuing her now was as simple as locating her cell phone? It seemed unlikely she would have her phone with her, but still…
Closing his contacts list, Noah connected to the cloud. Thank God he’d been looking over her shoulder when she’d typed in her username and password or he’d never have a prayer of this working.
He waited impatiently for the app to locate her phone. If it said it was at her house, he was screwed.
It didn’t point to her house. According to the app, her phone was somewhere at the airport.
He resisted the urge to let out a hooyah. Moore could have taken her phone and tossed it into a trash can, Noah thought as he zoomed in on the map. His eyes widened as the parking lot came into focus.
Hooyah.
Turning on his heel, Noah pushed through the crowd, then sprinted for the parking lot. He’d never used the Find My Phone app before, but it got him within a few feet of several possible vehicles. He immediately discounted the pickup truck and minivan, focusing on the obvious rental cars.
He pounded frantically on the trunk of each of them with his fist, calling Peyton’s name, then pressing his ear to the lid to see if he heard anything in reply. He muttered a curse after the fourth car. It was a hundred degrees out here. With the sun beating down like it was, the trunk would feel like a frigging oven.
He banged on the fifth car, calling Peyton’s name, then putting his ear to the lid. Instead of silence, this time he heard a muffled sound.
“Hang on!” he called. “I’m going to get you out of there.”
Running around to the side of the car, he rammed the window with his elbow. His jacket protected his arm from the glass, and he quickly reached in to open the door. Not every car had a way to unlock the trunk from the inside, but he hoped this particular make and model might.
It didn’t.
Shit.
Why the hell hadn’t he thought to search Moore’s pockets for the keys?
Noah backed out of the car and spun around, looking at all the other nearby vehicles. He saw exactly what he was looking for about five rows away—a beat-up old pickup truck with primer spots, an NRA sticker, and a bunch of fish decals in the back window. That’s what he needed—a truck that bellowed of a good ol’ boy.
He ran over to the truck and peeked in the back, finding pretty much what one would expect to see in the back of a truck that spent a lot of time in the woods and frequently needed working on. There was a spare tire, a rusted tool box, some lumber, tow ropes, jumper cables, and a shovel.
Thank the Lord for good ol’ boys.
He immediately grabbed the implement and ran back to the rental car Peyton was trapped in. He shoved the tip of the heavy-duty shovel under the lip of the trunk, right where the latch was located, and yanked up.
The first time didn’t work completely, but it did wedge the trunk open enough so he could jam it in a little further. Shoving hard, he popped the latch of the trunk open with a loud cracking sound. He tossed the tool aside, then quickly lifted up the lid.
Peyton blinked up at him from the small trunk space, breathing hard, tears in her eyes and her hair soaked in sweat. One look at her, and Noah wanted to kill Moore all over again.
Slipping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her legs, he lifted her out of the trunk and gently set her on her feet. He quickly loosened the knot in the ugly tie Moore had used to gag her with, then went to work on the duct tape around her wrists. That took a little longer because he had to be careful not to hurt her, but as soon as she was free, Peyton threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture, smoothing her wet hair with his hand and pressing a kiss to her head.
“You came for me,” she said against his chest.
“I’ll always come for you,” he murmured.
“But how did you find me?” she asked softly.
“The Find My Phone app.”
She pulled away enough to look up at him in confusion. “No, I meant how did you even know Scott had grabbed me?”
“Oh.” He ran a finger down her cheek, wiping away a tear. “I was with Dwayne when the men who tried to kidnap you last night told him some big city guy who liked to twirl his pen all the time had hired them. I immediately knew it was Moore, especially since I thought he was an ass the moment I met him. When I went to your place and found the door open, the coffee mugs on the floor in your office, and you gone, I figured Moore had taken you with him.”
She shuddered. “He said he was taking a flight to Mexico. If we hurry, we might be able to stop him.”
Noah gave her a wry smile. “The cops already took care of that. He’s dead.”
She looked shocked for a moment, then nodded. “I’m guessing they’ll find my hard drive in his luggage, whenever they get around to looking for it.”
“We’ll tell them in a little bit, but it might take a while to get it out of police and TSA custody.”
She nodded. “I’ll let my publisher worry about that part. On the bright side, I did have a
lot of time to think about the end of the story while I was lying in that oven of a trunk. I think the readers are really going to like it.”
Noah pulled her close and hugged her again. “Has anyone ever mentioned you writers are crazy?”
She laughed and melted into his arms—exactly where he wanted her.
Chapter Twelve
Peyton lay back with a contented sigh, smiling as the sea breeze played with her hair. She’d finished her book and sent it FedEx to her editor that morning. Now, she and Noah were hanging out on the beach behind her house, enjoying the ocean. Well, Noah might be focused on the ocean. She was more interested in how good he looked in those tight Navy-issue swim trunks as he walked out of the water to join her. The man could put a Roman statue to shame.
“You know, I think my next book is going to be about a Navy SEAL,” she said as he sat down in the chair beside her.
He gave her a quizzical look. “Seriously? You really think women would want to read about a bunch of guys who do a crazy job for a living?”
She smiled. “I know they would. Navy SEALs are very popular right now.”
“Huh,” was all he said. “No accounting for taste, I guess.”
Peyton half turned in her chair so she could look at him. “I still can’t believe you found me in that car.”
It had been more than a week since Scott had kidnapped her, and she still had nightmares about being in small spaces.
Beside her, Noah grinned. “At GAPS, we protect your six, you know.” He reached out and took her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm, his eyes suddenly serious. “I would have done whatever it took to find you. If you haven’t figured it out, I’m falling hard for you, Peyton Matthews.”
The words made her catch her breath. She’d hoped, but hadn’t been sure. Leaning over, she kissed him long and slow on the mouth. “That makes two of us, Noah Chase.”
Want more hunky SEALs? Then check out my SEALs OF CORONADO Series!
SEAL FOR HER PROTECTION (Book 1)
He saved her from danger before. Can he save her again, this time from the danger he doesn't see coming?
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Paige Tyler is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy, romantic suspense and paranormal romance. She and her very own military *crane hero (also known as her husband) live on the beautiful Florida coast with their adorable fur baby (also known as their dog). Paige graduated with a degree in education, but decided to pursue her passion and write books about hunky alpha males and the kick-butt heroines who fall in love with them.
She is represented by Bob Mecoy.
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