Page 46 of Hell and High Water

Speed is the only thing keeping it from ending quickly, flashing hands and feet darting in to hit me from every angle. I play it out, gauging the style and waiting for my opening. The attacker gets in a good kick to my knee, making me kneel in agony.

“Enough!” I see it, the dip in their guard.

One strike, my fist whipping in to take them squarely in the chest, knocking them back ten feet through the air, rolling back their feet, clutching at their chest, stumbling.

I’m raising my gun when they fire off a spray of bullets, sending me diving for an open doorway.

“Down!” I shout, not knowing where Evan is.

The ringing in my ears subsides as I flatten myself against the wall, peering around to locate the shooter. “Evan?”

“I’m good.”

I spin, keeping my gun up, but the front door is wide open, and right as I dash to check, I hear a dirt bike engine roar to life behind the house, revving off up the hillside. A flicker of black and red catches my eye as I round the corner of the house, and they're gone.

Running back inside, I almost collide with Evan, leaning against the doorframe of the living room, still catching his breath and holding one arm.

“You alright?” I check him over, pulling his hand away to inspect a trail of red.

“Just grazed me. Luckily, I ducked behind the bookcase.”

“She wasn’t shooting to kill, just to cover her exit.”

“She?” Evan chokes out, his voice raspy from the strike to his larynx.

“Yeah. I think we found our sniper.”

9

HELLENA

Tell works his way up my arm, kissing, dragging his bottom lip over my pebbling skin. He’s been at it for several minutes, the two of us lying on my bed after a much-needed nap.

“You drive me nuts.”

“Me? You're the one who keeps holding out.”

“Excuse me, we've been interrupted. Every time we've tried to?—"

“Oh, you don't have to tell me.” I moan into his ear, making him shiver.

He laughs, wrapping his long, muscular arms around me, pulling me close as he steals a kiss before I can say anything else.

“Well, what's keeping us from doing it now?” He widens his eyes meaningfully, slipping one hand down over my silky soft boy shorts. His hands are so big, strong. Long fingers grip my ass.

“Maybe I want to make you work for it?” I whisper. “Or maybe…”

His eyes narrow. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe I'm torturing you for information.” I flip him onto his back, easing one leg over to straddle him and lock him under me.

“Well see, that'll never work because as it so happens, I'm an expert at resisting torture.”

“Is that so?” I drag one fingernail down his bare chest, circling one nipple before giving it a little squeeze.

“Hey!”

He reaches for mine, poking through the fabric of my tank top, and I swat his hand away.

---