Page 90 of Gilded Saint

Nick’s a good shot, but it takes training to run and shoot.

Whatever this is…it’s mind games. That’s what it is. He suspects me. No doubt.

Dew coats my running shoes, dampening my socks and my legs up to my calves.

I push forward. He wants mind games, we’ll play.

Adrenaline pumps. My body awakens. Senses heighten.

The cool air stings my eyes.

My fingers burn.

Sweat drips from my brow.

Willow. A vision of her in bed flashes.

Secure. Safe.

Her arms around me, her giving body.

Eyelids fluttering closed.

There’s nothing like watching her orgasm.

God, she’s gorgeous.

The narrow trail in the grass breaks open before the woods.

I’m a fool to be out here.

I should be in bed with Willow.

The trail head opens near an old pine.

A weight crashes into me, slamming me into rough bark.

I push back.

Nick’s arm presses me into the tree.

My left hook misses, grazing his ribs.

A sliver of light reflects.

A sharp pain sears my neck.

I still.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

Be tough. Don’t act guilty.

“Who are you working for?”

He knows. Come clean or deny?

“Did you bring me out here to kill me?”

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