Page 32 of A Touch of Frost
It wasn’t automatic and I couldn’t remember what she did to make it move and I didn’t care. We slammed through the garage door and instantly the night was filled with loud booms.
“What the fuck!” I shouted while ducking. “Is someone shooting at—”
I was cut off as a bullet wedged itself in the mirror outside my window.
Frost merely glanced over a shoulder and pushed the car faster. She took the corners dangerously, the tires squealing as headlights filled the interior of our car from behind.
Gunshot continued echoing through the night. She drove faster, narrowly missing other vehicles on the main street. She ran a red light causing other vehicles to swerve, narrowly missing us and others.
Still, the car behind us kept coming.
Frost pulled down an alley with graffiti on both sides. I wasn’t sure how she knew her vehicle would fit but there was barely any space on either side. What got me was that even with such tight squeeze, Frost didn’t slow down.
The car drifted to the side out of the alley and when I looked behind us, we were still being chased.
“I don’t have time for this!” Frost muttered.
She pulled her weapon again, and before I knew it, we were speeding in reverse toward the car following us. My heart surged into my chest but before I had a moment to really process what was happening, the vehicle we were in was drifting to the side, the window on her side was down and she’d stuck the gun out.
Just as we drifted by our pursuers, she fired into the vehicle and it swerved away and into the guardrail on the other side of the road.
Frost jarred the car to a stop. “Stay in the car.”
“What if you need help?”
Her only reply was to climb from the car and approached the other. One foot ahead of the other, gun hand in the palm of her other—like military.
I watched her, my heart racing, my body tightening with arousal. There was something breath-taking about her, something sexy that was clouding my senses.
It was inappropriate but my body and mind didn’t seem to care.
She cleared the vehicle like a cop would before pulling the passenger door open. When she stepped back, it was to drop someone to the asphalt. She rushed around the other side and did the same with the driver. Only, while the passenger didn’t move, the driver tried running.
Frost body-slammed him into the side of the car and he crumbled to the ground.
I disobeyed and went over to where they were. The man on the passenger side was obviously dead. The hole in the side of his head kind of confirmed that for me.
Still, I felt for a pulse.
By the time I made my way around the other side where Frost had her knee in the man’s chest, I knew she’d try kicking my ass later.
I’d let her—if she’d promise to kiss it better.
She looked up at me, completely unphased by the groaning man on the ground holding his side. A frown creased her features, and she tore her gaze from me and returned it to her captive.
“Let’s play twenty questions.” Frost told him. “Who do you work for?”
He spat at her.
Frost rewarded him with weight on her knee while wiping the disgusting fluid into her sleeve. He struggled, grabbing her thigh. She clocked him in the forehead and eased up, but just a little.
“Who do you work for?” Frost asked again.
“Kiss my ass.” He flung at her.”
“This is the most important question.” Her voice was like a storm. “Are you listening? You were following us, so you know what I want. Where’s the doctor?”
He gargled, a choking sound I wasn’t used to hearing a human make.
