Page 95 of Mountain Security

She followed his gaze to the car. It was only a few body lengths away, but might as well be miles away.

“Can we stay here?” she asked, already knowing, and dreading, the answer.

“No. We can’t.”

Another shot.

Another crack of stone.

Is he getting closer?

Blood oozed out of a cut on Alex’s temple, rolling down the side of his face.

“You’re hurt,” she whimpered.

“Just a piece of loose rock,” he said impatiently. “I’m going to get up and get his attention. When I do, you run back to the car and get inside.”

He tried to press a set of keys into her hand.

Anger filled her, then, brighter and louder than her fear.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she hissed. “How about we stay right here until we come up with an idea that doesn’t end up with you dead?”

Alex laughed, then, a brief, hearty sound.

“God, you’re amazing, Yvette.”

“You’re pretty amazing yourself. Which is why I don’t want to see you dead.” She held on to his arm in a death grip. He wasn’t getting away from her.

It was only then she realized the shooting had stopped. She pushed at Alex, but it was like pushing at an immovable mass.

“Come out,” a hoarse, cultured voice said. Yvette almost couldn’t place it, except she’d heard it before. They’d had dinner together on this very estate.

A foot appeared at the edge of her vision.

Suddenly, Alex dragged her to her feet, pushing her so she was standing behind him.

She peeked from behind his shoulder, and there stood Arnaud Gaultier. In his hands, he held a shiny black gun. She stared into the deep, dark barrel.

She tried to swallow, but fear closed her throat.

“MonsieurGaultier,” Alex began.

“Shut up!” the man shouted. “And move out of the way. I don’t have anything against you. She’s the one who needs to speak. The one who needs to apologize.”

Me.

He’s talking about me.

“Move away, or I’ll shoot you.”

And Yvette suddenly realized, if she stayed behind Alex, he was going to die. The thought gave her the courage to step to the side.

“No,” Alex hissed, tugging at her arm.

Yvette ignored him. Maybe this was a better plan. She could distract him, and they could—

“You,” Gaultier hissed. His eyes narrowed, his face a mask of hatred. “You ruined my life.”

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