Page 88 of Montana Manhunt

Noah slid his hands into his pockets and waited, his gaze fixed on the dimly lit hall.

Five minutes later, the lights in the hall went out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

VIOLET OPENED THEstall door and walked to the sink to wash her hands. She studied herself critically in the mirror and grimaced. Man, she looked like she’d been on a long mission with no sleep. And yet Noah repeatedly told her how beautiful she was. Her man needed his eyes checked.

After washing her hands, she splashed cold water on her face and blotted her skin dry with paper towels. Although the water wouldn’t help her look more rested, it would push back the fatigue a little longer.

All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, but today would be another chaotic day. Hopefully, she and her teammates wouldn’t be targets of a sniper or bomber this time. She turned to throw the paper towels in the trash and the lights went out.

Violet froze. Not good. This room didn’t have windows. At the moment, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She slid her hand into her pocket and grabbed her phone. Thank goodness for flashlight apps. Her screen lit up when she swiped her thumb across the glass.

Before she could tap the app, someone grabbed her from behind and slammed her body and head against the wall. Warm liquid slid down her forehead and into her eye. She eased her hand down and freed her knife from its forearm sheath.

A man’s heavy weight settled against her. He clenched Violet’s hair in a tight grip. Against her ear, he whispered, “Get out of Morrison before you join Camilla in the grave.”

With a fist around the hilt, Violet jammed the knife into a muscular thigh.

The man cursed, yanked Violet’s head back, and slammed her head against the wall again.

Pain exploded in her head, and suddenly the heavy weight was gone. She sank to the floor and seconds later felt cool air on her face.

“Violet! Where are you?”

Noah. Violet felt so sick she wanted to curl up in a ball. “Here,” she yelled. “Noah, help me.”

“Hold on, baby.” Seconds later, light flooded the room and strong but gentle hands turned Violet toward him. He growled. “Who hurt you?”

“I don’t know. The lights went out, and a man attacked me.”

“You’re sure it was a man?”

The guy’s strength, weight, and hardened body told her what she needed to know. “Positive. Go. Find him.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He turned her so that she leaned against the wall and raced from the bathroom.

Seconds later, Rayne rushed into the room. She flinched. “Ouch.”

“Understatement.”

“What does the other guy look like?”

She snorted. “Who knows? He has a deep knife wound in his thigh, though.”

“Nice. I’m impressed.” Her friend grabbed a paper towel and blotted at the blood still trickling into Violet’s eye. “I’m not a medic, but I think you need stitches, Violet.”

Her heart sank. Not what she wanted to hear. “I’ve had enough of hospitals.”

“You planning to stitch the cut yourself?”

“If necessary.”

“We’re not on the run during a mission. No need to put in stitches yourself.”

The bathroom door opened again.

In a split second, Rayne spun and faced the door, Sig up and ready. She lowered the weapon as Noah and Grant entered the room. “No luck?”

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