Page 92 of Deadly Attraction
His voice was flat, unemotional. She knew he had a clamp on his emotions because he cared for her, but it was still difficult not to fly off again. Couldn’t he see she’d done what she had to in order to try and stop these bullies? To stop anyone else from dying?
“Ditto, Agent Holden.” She wiped her wet face with her hands. “I’m forever thankful you saved my horses, but I thought I’d lost you.”
His jaw worked and his Adam’s apple went up and down. “Still only two men?” he said to Will, subtly shifting to eye the yard through the broken window.
Will took ammunition from a pocket, reloaded his rifle. He grinned an evil grin. “Actually, I took one out of commission while you were dancing around the back of the house. The short, bald one.”
“Gordon,” Mitch said. Emma echoed him. “Sean.”
Mitch gave Will a tight smile back. “That only leaves one, then. Between the two of us, we should be able to take out this last POS without too much difficulty.”
Except the one left was the brutal killer.
A nod from Will. “You want me to flush him out for you?”
Mitch hesitated a second and Emma reached up to twine her fingers in his. He felt warm; her hands were cold as ice.
She saw him swallow hard, then he took his fingers away from hers and motioned at the stairs. “Go upstairs and lock yourself and the dogs in your bathroom, Emma. Don’t let anyone in and don’t come out until I tell you to.”
What? He was sending her away?
She retorted but the rapid,ping, ping, pingof bullets peppering the front of her house again drowned out her words.
As if this day could get any worse, Will’s body snapped back and down he went too.
“Shit!” Lucky shot or skilled killer? Mitch didn’t have time to figure it out. The man shooting at the house went silent, probably reloading, so Mitch dropped to his knees and grabbed Emma’s bleeding hands, pulling her to her feet.
Glass crunched under his boots. He tried to be gentle, but the adrenaline blasting though his system and the memory of Mac caught in that building five years ago made him want to throw her over his shoulder and run.
He gripped her too hard, spots dancing at the edge of his vision. His body swayed. Mac’s face flashed across his mind.
Not now. A flashback now could kill him and Emma both. “Stay low but get to the stairs, Doc. Now!”
He sent her scurrying but she pulled up short two steps later when she realized Will was down, the big man swearing and swiping at his upper arm where blood flowed.
His right arm.
Mitch’s sharp shooter was out of commission.
“Go!” Will yelled at Emma. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t, and she knew it, but she set her mouth in a firm line and crab-crawled to the stairs. Mitch could tell even from this distance and seeing her only in profile she was scared but also pissed. Good. Being pissed might keep her alive if she didn’t do something stupid again.
Will scooted on his butt so his back was to the wall between the door and the window, the rifle lying on the floor at his feet. He tore a strip off his shirt and started winding it around his arm, his left hand shaking. “Just let me wrap this up and I’m good to go. Our guy is on the northeast side. I’ll head around back and come at him from the south. Flush him out for you.”
Wounded or not, Mitch needed him. He withdrew his handgun and held it out. “Trade?”
The rifle wasn’t going to work for Will, but he accepted the Glock with his left hand and used his foot to slide the rifle toward Mitch. “Better than nothing, right?” he said, rising to his feet.
A grimace stole over his features and his face went gray. Pain could do that to you. “Watch your back,” Mitch said.
Will nodded, then ducked and made his way to the kitchen, his gait slightly unsteady as he held his injured arm close to his body.
Upstairs, Mitch heard a door shut.
How about that? Emma had listened to him for once.
All was quiet out front. Too quiet. Had their shooter run out of bullets? Was he moving to a new location?
