Page 139 of End Game

“No!”

“With the terrain the way it is, there’s no way I’m making it to the nearest neighbor. But you can.”

Jillian shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.” Purple shadows smudged the underside of her eyes and deep hollows pressed into her cheeks.

“It’s the only way we’ll both make it out of this alive. I know you’ve already gone through the various scenarios and have landed on the same conclusion.” Kayla fumbled for her hand. “But your motherly instincts are clashing with your logic.”

Jillian’s breaths were hard and fast, but Kayla could tell she was listening.

“Don’t let your fear win,” she echoed her mother’s sentiment from what seemed like a million years ago, when in fact it had only been days since the fundraiser. Kayla lifted up onto her elbows and looked around. “I can stay hidden until help arrives.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. But it’s our best chance of surviving this.”

An image surfaced, of Ash being led away, injured, and with a promise burning in his eyes.

Along with something more.

Outside the bar, he’d been a breath away from declaring his feelings for her—until she’d stopped him. What had possessed her to stop him from saying words she wanted to hear, needed to hear?

Kayla drew in a slow breath and rolled the tension from her shoulders.

Whatever it took.

She would do whatever it took to get through this nightmare, then she’d demand the words from Ash. No, she would gift him with the words first.

No more hiding her feelings, no more playing it cool.

I love you, Ash. Hold on.

A small, insidious voice whispered along the smoke-drenched breeze. You’re too late.

74

Ash threw up his good arm to block the mercenary’s knife from giving him a tracheotomy. He halted the blade’s descent, but the guy was strong.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the merc had at least three inches and fifty pounds on him. If Ash hadn’t been injured and exhausted, he wouldn’t have blinked twice at the guy’s size. Somewhere in his mid-twenties, both Zeke and Cruz had out-muscled him, but that hadn’t meant they could outmaneuver him. To their annoyance.

But Ash’s defense was already weakening, and six inches of steel were closing in.

“You’re a hard fucker to kill, I’ll give you that.” The fingers anchored in Ash’s hair rolled tighter, forcing Ash’s head back until his neck refused to bend any farther. “Are all my men dead?”

“Only the”— he edged past the pain in his neck, forcing his attention on his hand while it worked to unsheathe his own blade”—assholes.”

Once he slid the knife free, Ash jammed it into the merc’s hip so hard the tip hit bone. The other man cursed, and his hold loosened.

Ash withdrew the weapon and slammed it into the man’s thigh, then twisted.

An earth-shaking scream.

When Ash pulled the knife out this time, blood spurted, arcing in the air with each of the merc’s rapid heartbeats.

He’d hit the femoral artery.

Good for him. Bad for the merc.

Jerking away, he kept a wary gaze on the giant, unsure if he would try a last desperate rush or simply empty his magazine into Ash’s body. “Hope you have a tourniquet.”

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