Page 61 of Burn

People who peddled in flesh tended to be greedy bastards. They didn’t want to let go of their pets or their people. Clearly, they wanted Grace Black in their hands. The repeated attempts to reacquire her made that abundantly clear.

The fact someone had not only tried to take her from us once, but now twice, suggested they weren’t planning to stop anytime soon. Worse, I wasn’t sure whether they wanted her back as a possession or if they wanted to kill her ala, if they couldn’t have her, no one could.

Maybe it was both.

Voodoo and I had been dealing with the attackers in the car efficiently until she got out of the downed Jeep. Considering they’d been taking shots at it, her escape from the interior seemed rational. Smart. It was an acceptable choice.

What wasn’t acceptable was the man who then attacked her. She’d defended herself, while the taser helped her escape, it hadn’t let her get far. The man had struck her—repeatedly.

My intention had been to get him away from her, restrain him, then question him. Then he landed a blow with his elbow and she went down. The fact she’d put her arms up to shield herself had snapped what was left of my reason.

The world narrowed to the target in front of me and the fact he was too damn close to her. Any sudden move on his part could end her. The man was nearly twice her size. For all the spirit she showed, she was not physically a match for the man.

Slamming my fist into his face rather than using a weapon to disable swiftly, I’d ended him with a series of swift blows. The blood spraying from his face offered me a reward in the moment. I could have stopped.

My brain recognized the moment I could have stopped.

I chose not to. They wanted to take her? They wanted tohurther? Then they deserved no mercy and I showed none. Blood from the assault decorated her face, highlighting how ashen she was. The fact she’d just had a small procedure to remove the tracker probably didn’t help.

The best thing for her was to go with Voodoo while I dealt with the bodies. I loaded them all into our downed vehicle and set it up to burn. I stripped them for any identification, including their phones.

Nothing they were carrying revealed their identities or their employers. Even the phones appeared to be burners. I’d shut them all down and sacked them up. Alphabet could check them and verify for us. After collecting their fingerprints, I headed up to the car where Voodoo and Grace waited.

She looked even worse in the backseat, her eyes too wide and her pupils too large. Not wanting to see fear on her face, I keptmy gaze forward. Her collapsing when we arrived at the hotel only added to my aggravation.

Voodoo usually would have handled the car and the resupply. He preferred it. But I didn’t doubt he’d seen the need for me to go and it was better for her if I absented myself and got my temper back in check.

I took my time setting up their vehicle for a trap and spent half my night waiting for the other side to make a move. They never did.

Bastards.

After dumping the car in a junkyard to be smashed, I acquired another and spent the rest of the night across from the hotel, dozing fitfully and keeping an eye on them.

The earlier anger was absent, I had the bones of a plan ready to go and I’d checked in with Alphabet—who was still awake and at his computer rather than resting. Lunchbox said he’d take care of it, but I told them it might be another full day before we made it back there.

“If necessary,” I told Lunchbox. “You two may have to come out and meet us.”

“I’d prefer that,” Lunchbox said, his tone even. “I’d rather just head out and meet you guys now. We could fly to a local airport, pick you up, and get her completely off the grid.”

“Tempting.” Not a hard admission to make. “But we need to make sure we’ve scrubbed all their attempts to recapture her.”

“You planning to put her through another x-ray?” It was a fair question.

“Not immediately, no.” I’d skipped the part about her passing out. She’d had enough to deal with and her passing out wasn’t a life threatening injury. “If we end up with another encounter, we’ll revisit that strategy. In the meanwhile, get the safe room ready to go. If we have to, we can keep her there.”

Lunchbox grunted. It was a noncommittal response, but he didn’t like it. “I’ll do the full check and make sure we get supplies laid in. But I don’t think she’s going to go for being on that much lockdown.”

“She does it with us or she ends up in some truck chained to the wall or worse, and no one ever sees her again. She doesn’t have to be happy about the accommodations.” I didn’t want her to be unhappy either, but living was far better than death.

Or worse.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Then Lunchbox hung up and I leaned my head back. We weren’t in the field, he didn’t have to wait for me to dismiss him. The hang-up though was another sign of his displeasure with me.

At dawn, I went for coffee and food, then headed over to the hotel proper. My temper was in check, I’d cleaned up, and Voodoo hadn’t sent up any alarms after I called to make sure they were secure. If anything, he sounded like I’d woken him up.

If he was sleeping it must have meant she was better. I hadn’t missed how badly she’d been bleeding earlier. Another reason I needed to get out of there. Probably a solid reason to stop thinking about her injuries.

Civilians did not belong on the field of battle. Whether they should be there or not, they were most often reduced to rubble when the wars we fought ground them down.

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