Page 40 of Beloved Sacrifice

She rolled onto her side, took another few breaths, the smell of earth and crushed grass strong in her nostrils, then rolled onto her knees. That hurt. Hanging her head, she pushed the pain away, then lifted her head just enough to see out of the ditch.

Fifteen feet farther on from where she knelt the small car was stopped. It was angled across the road. The driver door was open, and her dark-haired “rescuer” was stopped with his hands up. He was closer to her than the car was, so he’d probably been running toward her when he’d been stopped by…

Rose turned, looking at the expanse of grass between the road at the cottage. Weston stood ten yards up the gentle rise, a massive black gun held up to his shoulder, his cheek pressed to the stock so he could see through the sight.

Damn it. Damn, damn, damn.

Rose indulged herself, staying down in her ditch, catching her breath.

“Sir, you need to put the gun down and turn yourself over to the authorities,” her “rescuer” called to Weston. He had a wonderful voice—his accent a mixture of sounds, with the precise pronunciation indicative of British English on top of it all. There wasn’t any fear in his voice.

Rose looked at him. Did he have a gun? Why was he so calm?

“Who are you?” Weston demanded.

“My name is Marek Lee. I’m here to take Ms. Hancock home. Let us leave, and I will wait until we’re back in the United States to notify the authorities of your location.”

“You think I’m just going to let you walk away with her?” Weston’s voice was hard, cruelly amused.

“Yes, sir, you are.”

Time to intervene. Rose stood up, brushing grass off her hands. The first few steps hurt, but she kept going, climbing out of the ditch.

Marek took a step toward her, but Weston barked “Stop,” and Marek nodded once in calm acquiescence.

She had to cross the gravel road, wincing with each step. With a little leap, she jumped onto the field on the other side. She walked toward the men.

“Ms. Hancock, please stop. I will keep you safe,” sexy-voiced Marek called out.

“Rose, get behind me,” Weston commanded.

Right. “Both of you can go fuck yourselves,” she snarled.

Weston growled, “Damn it, Rose.”

“Language, please.”

Rose and Weston both stared at Marek. She turned to Weston and her lips twitched. Weston smirked, but didn’t lower the gun.

With a sigh, she positioned herself between Weston and Marek, putting herself in the literal line of fire.

“Move, Rose.”

“No, Weston. Let him go.”

“Ms. Hancock, please come down here. I was sent by your…leader…to rescue you. I will protect you,” Marek called up.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “I’ve heard that before, Mr. Lee. I don’t believe you.”

He looked taken aback by her statement.

“Damn it, Rose,” Weston ground out again. “We don’t have time for this.”

She kept her attention on Marek. “Go back to Juliette.” Rose took perverse satisfaction in using Juliette’s name, breaking a sacred rule of the Trinity Masters and giving away such an important secret—the Grand Master’s name. “Tell her we’ll come to her, but not now.”

That was a big-ass lie, but a lie that might get Marek to leave.

Marek looked from her to Weston. “Ms. Hancock, this man kidnapped you.”

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