Page 121 of Forging Caine

The weight of the Glock in my hand was a comfort, almost as good as the presence of the man next to me. If we got out of this, I was done. Risking my own life or my own future was one thing, but this adventure has snowballed out of my control.

Screw being out of control.

Part of my brain wanted to turn around and open fire on the men pursuing us. I even slowed for a moment and prepared myself for the eventuality I was going to kill someone. But as my speed slowed, Antonio slowed next to me, his head turning to look over his shoulder.

He focused on the men behind us, but a pair of flashlights lit up to our left. To the right, the fence. Straight ahead, somewhere in the darkness, was the water and our salvation. Unless Fiori’s men were already there.

Antonio panted, “You should have been safe back there with Cam—”

“Shh!” If any of them were close enough to hear us, I’d rather they kept searching for Cam-ron, rather than knowing we’d gotten him out of the property.

Was he counting to five hundred already? Was he still listening? Did he remember Elliot’s name?

In what world was my fate in the hands of Cam-ron Parker?

A blinding light appeared from the top of the fence, so bright we had to cover our eyes. I stumbled to a halt, rather than running into a tree. The lights lined the entire fence, as far as I could see. We weren’t anywhere near the water yet.

“Into the woods.” Antonio nudged me to our left, in between trees and into shadows, avoiding the flashlights.

“I see them!” shouted one man from the direction of the water.

“Over there!” yelled another.

My lungs ached and feet were killing me. The shoes were good, but not made for trail running.

Antonio’s hand found my free one and we raced together, searching for a way through the net that was closing around us.

Two more flashlights appeared ahead of us.

“Enough!” This time, it was Fiori’s voice. “You’ve lost.”

We stopped and I raised the gun in his direction. “Not yet, we haven’t.”

A high-pitched whistle blew past me, followed by a thwap against a tree and the sound of bark clattering to the ground.

Fiori said, “I’d suggest you drop that.”

Three more dull thuds in the ground directly in front of us.

I closed my eyes, heart still pounding from the run through the woods.His name is Elliot Skinner, Cam-ron. Make sure you’re counting.I pulled my finger off the trigger and held my hands out as I knelt to place the gun on the ground. “I’m so sorry, Antonio.”

“Don’t apologize, amore.” He took my hand again. “This has been the most amazing ten months of my life. I wouldn’t trade a moment with you for all the—”

Pain screamed through every ounce of my existence, and I crumpled to the ground. My muscles clenched so hard I would have screamed if I had control of them.

Antonio crashed next to me, convulsing.

Stun guns.

Please, Elliot. Please hurry.

Chapter 43

Antonio

SamanthaandIwereeach tied to white wicker chairs in the garden room. The first room we’d entered of Fiori’s magnificent home. The travertine floor would be far easier for them to clean than the hardwood upstairs.Stop thinking that way. Make a plan.

But what plan was there? We were surrounded by Bodyguards One and Three, the security guard Jason had choked out, and three other burly men I recognized from either the yacht or the house. There was no sign of the FBI, no sign of Jason, and the zip ties were too tight to break.

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