Page 23 of Off the Grid
It was silent for a moment.
McKenzie blinked, wondering if she’d imagined it as the second stretched into two. She took a tentative step forward, lured by morbid curiosity, and held the rope taut between her hands, not exactly sure what she would do with it.
The door flung open.
McKenzie leapt back in surprise, catching the scream in her throat before it had the chance to burst out. She stared into those deep hazel eyes brimming over with concern, unable to believe they were real. Agent Alvarez’s gaze dropped to the knotted sheets clenched between her fists. The ghost of a smile passed over his lips, there and gone in a flash, as he looked up.
“Let’s go.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Not this time.
McKenzie dropped the rope and took the hand he’d offered, gripping his warm, firm skin like a lifeline. The touch of another human being had never brought her so much comfort. He was real. He was tangible. He was going to save her.
They stepped over the body lying across the door together. McKenzie didn’t know if the guard was dead or knocked out. She didn’t ask. She kept her gaze glued to Agent Alvarez, studying the curve of the biceps visible beneath the edge of his black T-shirt, the V his shoulder blades made beneath the dark fabric, the sinewy muscles along his forearm, flexed from the pressure of his strong grip. His steps were confident. Authority and experience oozed from his powerful frame. It had been a very long time since McKenzie had felt able to trust another person, but right there in that garage, with his hand guiding hers, she let go of her fear of allowing another person close enough to hurt her. For the first time in a long time, she knew she couldn’t do it on her own.
The door behind them swung open.
A voice called out.
“Get down!” Agent Alvarez shouted, tugging on her arm.
McKenzie listened.
They dove behind a car, then landed in a tangled heap. He pulled her into his chest and rolled them over so he was on top as bullets sailed overhead. The shots thunked as they hit metal, burying into the side of the car, and glass shattered.
“Not the Aston Martin,” the Fed whispered with a wince.
Is he seriously worried about the car right now?
Before she could say anything, he reached behind his back and retrieved his own gun, then returned fire. Shouts filtered through the open door. Boots stomped like thunder.
“We have to go,” he muttered.
“No shit.” She couldn’t help herself.
He glanced down, offering her a wry smile as though he didn’t have a care in the world and they weren’t being shot at right now. “Think you can keep up?”
Maybe the point was to distract her via frustration—it was working. She forced the words through her teeth, more confident than she felt. “Try me.”
He leaned up, using the car as cover, and fired a slew of shots in the direction of those pounding feet. Silence stretched. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it meant. He crouched back down, pulled another set of bullets from his pocket, then met her gaze. Their faces were so close their noses almost touched.
“On my signal, I need you to run through that open door over there as fast as you can and hang a sharp left. I have a motorcycle hidden in the trees on the side of the house. You won’t be able to see it, so just go into the woods and I’ll find you, okay?”
“You aren’t coming?” The panic in her voice made her wince. It was unnatural to her ears.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, words crisp and clear and infused with unspoken promise. He deepened his gaze, moving a little closer as he reached out and gripped her forearm. Gold flecks glimmered in the depths of his eyes. “Trust me.”
McKenzie nodded.
Agent Alvarez spun, peeking over the top of the car.
A door crashed open.
“Now, McKenzie,” he shouted as he pulled the trigger. Her fingers trembled. Her heart thundered. “Now!”
She ran.
Her vision tunneled until all she saw was the open door and darkness beyond. There were no guns. No bullets zipping through the air. No shouting voices. There was only freedom. She sprinted, determined that this time she’d be fast enough.
