Page 73 of The Moments You Were Mine
But I didn’t turn around. I focused on the job. On finding the shooter. And when I did, I’d beat him to a pulp for scaring her. For bringing the blue shadows to her eyes and dimming her light.
As I reached the base of the hill, where the trees took over and the ground grew craggy, another shot reverberated through the air—this one directed at me. It sent birds flying from the nearby branches, wings beating furiously.
I slipped off Dandy and sprinted up the slope toward the last blast.
A rustling had me jerking to a stop. I attempted to control my breathing while listening for movement I couldn’t see. The hillside had gone eerily quiet. Nothing. Not even a bee buzzed.
Then, pebbles bounced down the hillside above me.
I ran without once slowing, keeping out of sight whenever possible.
I caught a glimpse of dark hair before it disappeared over the crest of the hill and increased my pace.
A motor kickstarted. Multi-cylinder.
Damnit. He was getting away.
My thighs protested as I thrust myself up the slope at an even more brutal pace. I dragged myself over a final boulder just in time to see an endurance bike kicking up gravel and dirt as it disappeared down the fire road.
“Fuck!” I shouted into the silence left behind.
I ripped my phone from my back pocket, calling the security office. I cut Lance off as he answered. “Get a team to the fire road on the northwest side of the estate. A shooter is escaping ona red off-road motorcycle. No helmet. Brown hair. Brown jacket. No license plate. Heading toward the lake rather than Rivers.”
“Shooter?” Lance hissed.
“Go, Lance. Fucking go.”
The line went dead. I laced my fingers behind my head, steadied my breathing, and then did a slow spin, taking in the area. I picked my way down the hill in the direction the shooter had come from, watching for footprints so I wouldn’t smudge them, all while looking for any other clues that would identify who this had been. I stopped at a large clump of rocks jutting out at the point of the hillside. If I were aiming into the valley, this was where I’d set up. It had the perfect view of the trail as it emerged from the trees.
Except, he couldn’t have known Fallon would be leading the excursion ahead of time. Kevin had told me she’d filled in at the last minute. So, what had been his game plan?
I scanned the ground. The shooter had left scuff marks where he’d lain between the boulders. Indents from the butt and the pistol grip setting in the dirt. Some boot prints. A handful of expended shell casings.
Not a professional, then. A professional would have taken the casings with them and swept the ground of any trace.
I raised my gaze to the field, noting how the guests had gathered in a circle with their horses, and my stomach dropped.
Someone was on the ground in the middle of the huddle.
Between their feet, I caught a flash of mint green sprawled amongst the flowers.
For a second, the entire world froze—and my heart along with it.
Pain spiraled through every vein.
It wasn’t her.
Goddamnit.
It couldnotbe her!
I leaped over the side of the boulder, my military boots sliding along the pine needles and loose rocks. Branches slapped me in my face as I hurtled down the hillside, gaining speed until I almost couldn’t control the pace. The distance seemed impossible.
Memories of Fallon flashed through my mind on repeat. Smiles. Tears. Sass. Sultry looks.
Pain tore through me at everything I’d fucking denied us.
For what?
