Page 125 of Illicit Temptation

CHAPTER SIXTY

Shea

Ears ringing from a point-blank shot of a .357 Magnum, I watch Trace fall to the ground.

“No!’I scream trying to touch him, but Malone quickly grabs my wrist and blasts off the handcuffs.

A powerful bullet disintegrates the link, but a piece of hot metal digs into my vein. The searing pain and loss of blood makes feel like I’ll lose consciousness.

Malone shows no sympathy for me and drags me by my hair into his vehicle. It’s only luck and my long hair that I stay on my feet. Tears clogging my throat and stinging my eyes, I fight to see my husband.

Thisis when it sinks in. He’s my husband. and he’s been shot.

“Trace!Trace!” I scream but he doesn’t move.

This animal killed the man I love. He’s dead.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

Malone shoves me inside that jeep, and it takes off while he shouts commands in Gaelic.

“I understand you,” I sneer at him, holding my bleeding wrist.

“I should let you bleed out,” he grumbles, but grabs a first aid kit and does a quick tourniquet. “I’ll bring you to the infirmary when we reach Dunbar.”

“How about a real hospital?”

He glares at me. “Keep. Quiet.”

I breathe through my nose, calming myself. People survive gunshots. Someone has to be helping Trace. I try to think positively, or I’ll lose my shit.

My brothers are expecting Trace and me to be home by the end of the day. When we don’t show up, they’ll come looking for me. Someone in this airportwill report two former soldiers dead, shot in cold blood. Malone’s only play is to get behind the walls of Dunbar.

That will take hours in a Jeep, we’re so far north.

But at the far end of the army base, a helicopter waits.

Fuck!

Once I get on that thing, I’m trapped for good. Sure, he used his military power to get on this base, but he can’t have everyone in his pocket. I can still yell and scream even if he beats me after. Someone, anyone with a heart can report it.

With me under his arm, and holding an UZI, Malone steers me to the helicopter. Four men surround it dressed all in black wearing riot helmets with tinted visors.

“Who... Who are these guys?” My brain is shot, as I fear I’ll be assaulted and passed around.

“These men work for me,” Malone sneers. “They’re wanted criminals. I can’t risk someone recognizing them.” Malone waves his gun. “Get me the hell back to Dunbar.”

Where he’s the Lord.

“Put this on, Miss,” a man with a softer Irish accent I’m used to hearing at home says above the whir of the blades overhead.

He drops a jacket on me that’s insanely heavy and bulky in the back. Once secured and zipped, he grips my aching hand and leads me into the cargo area while Malone heads to the front to pilot the helicopter himself.

Seconds later, we lift off and power away from the airport. Blades of tall green grass below bend in the wind, and I take deep breaths to consider my next move.

But I’m empty. For once, I can’t fix this problem with the usual schemes, tricks, and charm that I use on my clients. I can’t help myself. Staying quiet and curling into a small ball will get me through this.

For a brief moment, I catch something out the window. A bird, maybe? Oh my God, it will be sucked into thepropellors and break a blade. NoMiracle on the Hudsontoday. There’s nothing but rough terrain below.

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