Page 73 of Love Undercover
The scream that came from outside drew their attention to the window in time for them to see Travers plunge to theconcrete below, a puddle of blood billowing out around him like a grotesque halo.
Then two gunshots rang out, and the body on the ground twitched with the force of the bullets. She wasn’t sure if he’d died from the impact, but there’d be no doubt now. Proof that scumbags didn’t get nine lives, and only cats landed on their feet.
Santiago stared down at his little minion on the ground, disbelief carved into the smooth planes of his face. Then his expression twisted as he roared his frustration. He dragged her away from the window, pointing the gun toward it in expectation.
34
More CIA Shit
Chase hesitated before climbing up onto the ledge, grimacing as he took stock of his body. His bruised ribs, freshly mistreated during his climb up into the building then crawling around on the floor to stay under flying bullets, screamed for attention. His leg was bleeding. From what, he wasn’t sure. A stray bullet, perhaps. He didn’t remember getting it, but he felt the sting now, a burning slash across his calf.
He stepped up onto the ledge, the cool breeze buffeting him as the storm moved in closer, whipping his hair across his forehead and into his eyes. Turning his back to the sky, he stuffed his toe on top of the protruding bricks, hissing through a locked jaw when his leg muscles protested at having to work so hard again. Especially his calves, the one that still wept blood giving him the most feedback.
He dug his fingers into the protrusion at eye level, tensing to hold himself upright. The next window wasn’t far. He just needed to hang on as long as he could.
He muttered a string of curses through a tight jaw, the audible sound of his clenched teeth grinding against each other sending chills up his spine.
As he shimmied along, he realized it didn’t matter that it was a mere few feet. His muscles were about done, and it was agony crossing the distance as the wind continued to whip at him. The electricity in the air was palpable, making the hair along his body stand up.
His fingers slapped against the rounded corner where the window was cut in, his whole body shaking from the effort it took to hold his bulk against the wall. It was a quick process of discarding his initial instinct to kick in the glass. With how hard it was to hold on right now, he didn’t have the leverage he’d need to swing his leg.
So it would have to be a gunshot. He just needed to aim it right to avoid hitting Sadie. If it got Santiago, that would be a welcome miracle.
One hand slipped down to his thigh where he’d strapped his second pistol. He wasn’t sure he had any bullets left in the first one. He hadn’t been keeping track in the moment.
He puffed air in and out through his teeth, quick bursts of oxygen, as he shifted to aim at an angle toward the glass.
35
Post-Traumatic Storm Disorder
Santiago pulled Sadie back toward the door, his gun hand raised toward the window.
He was expecting Chase to come barreling through any minute, but she wondered how that would even be possible. Was Chase secretly Spiderman?
Pop, pop, pop!
The window exploded into sparkling splinters, and she shrieked, turning instinctively into Santiago’s chest as he twisted, pulling her with him in his attempt to shield himself.
The sound of the glass raining down onto the concrete only lasted a second, and the gunshots stopped almost immediately. Footsteps were crunching over broken glass before she’d even had enough time to process what happened.
And then Santiago yanked her hard, slamming her back to his chest, and the barrel of the gun pressed against the undersideof her jaw. Every muscle in her body snapped tight, her eyes shooting wide as she took in Chase’s face from across the room.
He was holding a gun, and it looked like he was aiming for her, though she knew it was trained on Santiago because that’s where his narrowed eyes were pointed. Sweat dripped down Chase’s temples in slow rivulets that caught the dim light in the room, and a cool breeze whipped inside through the broken window.
Santiago pulled her slowly backward, still practically dragging her because she wasn’t making it easy for him, even if he had the gun on her.
“Boss is on his way. Should be here in a few minutes.”
“Yeah?” Chase asked, his voice edged with danger. “And what are you going to tell him? Your guys are dead out there. And you got me here. What exactly was your plan, Santiago?”
The other man stiffened against her back. “I need what Calloway gave his lady friend. And if I don’t get it from you, I’ll use her to get it from him.”
Despite the gun still pressed to her face, she found herself snorting loudly at the sentiment.
Santiago jerked her, fingers digging into her flesh again, and she hissed. Chase’s eyes flashed to her face, a muscle near his eye twitching.
“What’s so funny, pet?” Santiago asked, but his usual sinister purr was betrayed by the tension she felt in his body.
