Page 41 of Javier

Bringing up my knee, I struck his lower belly. A rush of air shot from his lungs. Deflecting his blade with mine, I clawed my left hand, hooked my finger through his cow ring, and pulled.

The shriek that shot out of his throat belonged in hell. Blood gushed from his nose and sifted between his fingers. His ripped septum flapped above his mouth. He dropped his blade. I jammed my knife in its holster, trapped his neck between my hands, and squeezed, watching the light dimming in his eyes, waiting until he lost consciousness so I could take him with me for that long overdue chat—

“Behind you!” Missy’s scream warned me.

I turned around a second before several rounds plunkedinto the tree. The last of the tangos made an appearance.

“Take cover,” I barked at Missy.

A steady stream of rounds followed my hasty retreat. I dove across the camp, drawing the man’s rounds to me, and away from Missy. I rolled behind the jacaranda tree, and still the turd kept shooting. Between barrages of fire, I peeked. On the other side of the camp, I couldn’t see Missy. I spotted Snake, diving into the tree line. Damn the fucker. Limping, he disappeared into the foliage.

Where the hell was Missy? My stomach dropped. Had Snake taken her?

Before I could get too worked up, the indiscriminate shooting came to a stop. Another glance showed me Missy, standing to one side of the shooter, aiming at him with my Glock. Held between her shaking hands, it dripped with mud, but she kept it up.

Brave gal.

“No more shooting,” she said, her voice high and curt. “Drop your rifle.”

The man kept his carbine on me and his finger on the trigger, but I knew all his senses were now focused on the woman standing in his peripheral view. A sickly sun peeked out from the overcast horizon. My rifle lay across the clearing. My Glock was in Missy’s hands. The only weapon I had was my knife, but I was too far away to use it. The merc had me pinned down behind the fucking tree.

“Drop your rifle,” Missy ordered again, her voice wispy. “Drop it.”

“Shoot the bastard,” I shouted. “Don’t wait. Shoot him!”

“You don’t wanna shoot me, princess,” the asshole said, his voice almost kind as he kept his aim on me. “You haven’t spent all this time doing good deeds only to damn your soul now, have you? I heard you’re too nice to do something like that. Tookind.”

“Don’t test me.” She firmed up her voice, but another peek showed me her arm shaking and her knees buckling. “I really don’t want to kill you.”

“I know.” The smirk on Shitface widened. “I wish I could say the same, but if I don’t kill you, I don’t get paid.”

My blood froze in my veins when I spotted the murderous gleam in his eyes. This was a man paid to commit murder. He whirled around, finger already pulling on the trigger.

Knife in hand, I launched myself toward the assassin.

Crack.

A bloody mist burst from the side of the man’s head. He dropped to the ground at my feet. Working on automatic, I snatched his rifle, pulled the carbine to my cheek, and protecting Missy with my body, turned in a three-sixty, checking the space around us for additional threats. No more tangos. I did spot Sister Elsa, carefully sliding off the little donkey, and Sister Janet, standing next to the animal, partly concealed behind the nearby trees by the road.

The growl of an engine in the distance announced Snake had made his escape.Fuck him.He could crawl in a hole for all I cared. I was gonna find him anyway, and when I did, there was gonna be hell to pay.

“Clear,” I barked mostly out of habit, then I bent down and tested the mercs’ pulse.

Goner.

My training gave me the presence of mind to turn off his tracking tablet and slip it into my vest. Keeping my senses on swivel and my guard up, I stalked to Missy, slid out my Tak from her leggings’ pocket, and tossed it at the roots of the jacaranda.

“Cover your ears.” Two shots from the carbine and the thing cracked into tiny pieces. I lowered my weapon. “No one’s gonna track you now. No-fucking-one.”

I snatched her into my arms and hugged her to my chest tighter than I’d ever held anyone in my life before. Shouldering the dead merc’s carbine, I cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against my chest, where my heart beat so hard I feared it might break out of my ribcage.

The worst of the storm had passed, leaving behind a steady rain shower to wash some of the mud sticking to us, but the fear? The terror of losing Missy when I’d just found her?

It would stick with me forever.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, right before she fainted in my arms.

“Missy?” I held on to her limp body and sat her gently on the wet ground. “Angel, please, what’s wrong?”

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