Page 90 of Covert Temptation

He slumped to the barn floor, blood drenching his side.

She stared at him with wide eyes, too stunned at first to move. Each breath he took was labored, each rise and fall feeling like a precious second slipping away.

Her fingers hovered uselessly over the crimson blooming under his palm.

“Oh my god. Dante—what do I do? Tell me what to do!” Her voice broke, and her heart hammered so hard she could barely hear the words she uttered.

His jaw tightened with pain. “Just…a…second.” He pushed off the floor and slumped against the wall. “It’s…not through anything major. Just hurts like a bitch.” His dark eyes raked over her.

“It’s bleeding like it’s major.” She gently tugged up the hem of his shirt to see the wound, ragged and raw, too close to all his vitals. Her hands shook. “I need to do something. I need to stop the—”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

Her head snapped up, her heart plummeting as she realized her kidnapper was already recovering from Dante pistol-whipping him. The same captor who forced her to dance for him.

“No,” she snarled.

Time slowed. Kennedy rose to her feet. Her fingers closed on the wooden handle of a garden tool.

Rage sharpened her senses, and adrenaline surged like liquid fire through her veins. Instinct rose inside her, primal and deadly. She knew hockey, had seen someone get high-sticked on the ice more times than she could count.

She gripped the tool—it was a shovel, she realized from outside herself—and charged her captor, swinging with everything she had.

The metal bashed into the side of his head with a sickening thud. He toppled onto his back with a groan.

But it wasn’t over—he started crawling toward her like some creature that couldn’t be stopped. He shoved onto his knees, then lurched to his feet.

Her muscles screamed as she swung for him again, missing this time.

The blow from the shovel had broken his jaw, and it hung slack in a macabre, gaping grin.

Then a gunshot split the air.

Her kidnapper collapsed in a heap.

Kennedy whirled, shovel still in hand, to see Dante, arm raised, gun in hand. The weapon wavered in his grip, but his aim had been true.

She threw the shovel away and rushed back to him, dropping to her knees. “Dante!”

“Couldn’t let him touch you again.” He lifted his other hand to stroke his knuckle down the curve of her cheek.

Tears flooded her eyes. “Someone else is coming.”

“Cipher?”

“I don’t know if it’s Cipher, but the guy coming for me will kill me. We have to go!”

“Can’t yet.” He blinked slowly.

“What? Dante, no. We have to get you help. Call an ambulance. Call the team for backup!”

He gave a light shake of his head. Weaker. Too weak. “Team’s on an op. We’re on our own.”

The floor felt like it dropped out from underneath her, but she wasn’t giving up on Dante…or them.

“I’ll call for help.”

“We need to see this through. Wait for the other guy. Can’t leave this unfinished.”

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