the action immediately.
Hannah, wonderful, beautiful and perfect Hannah, stood across from him in the entrance to the cabin holding a gun. He dropped the axe to reach into the back of his jeans.
Damn!
My own fucking gun!
The woman waited until she gained his trust, until he had his guard down and now she would take him out with his own weapon.
His chest ached; a crushing pain flowed through his entire body.
Why didn’t she just pull the God damned trigger already?
She kept inching closer to him, moving with the stealth of a mountain lion over the snow in her sock-covered feet.
I am the biggest fool in the universe , he mused disdainfully, bringing the protective hardness back up around his fast-beating heart.
Mac promised himself never to trust a woman again, not after he was captured by one and held in that God-awful place, and then here he went allowing it to happen again.
Hannah continued to close in on him and Mac bent his knees slowly to retrieve the axe. If she thought he would go down without a fight, the bitch was sorely mistaken.
Fingers closed around the wood of the handle as she cocked the gun and took aim. There wouldn’t be enough time for him to take a proper swing at her with the axe so that the blade hit her skin.
He focused on causing her any kind of damage possible and hated that he allowed his thoughts and indeed feelings to run rampant. Despised the fact that he actually let himself start to fall for this woman.
At the same time she squeezed the trigger, Hannah shut her eyes.
Mac waited for the inevitable sting, the burn of hot metal tearing through flesh on impact.
But he felt nothing.
She missed!
What kind of assassin missed?
Tears sprang from her eyes and she dropped to her knees, the gun falling to the snow before her. Try as he might, Mac couldn’t figure out what just transpired – until a strangled moan sounded from behind him.
Whipping around, he saw a man in the snow, his white winter gear pooling with red as he bled out. The snow splattered with pink. Wire in the man’s hands. The guy had been sneaking up on Mac while he chopped wood and Hannah…
Turning back towards her, Mac saw her clutching her chest and sobbing.
What the fuck just happened? he wondered, taking in the scene around him.
She saved his life, that’s what happened.
The woman who tore down his defenses and crept into his heart just saved his God damned worthless life.
“Hannah.” Kneeling down in front of her, Mac held her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.
“I…I called out…” she whimpered. “I yelled for you. I-I cried ‘John! John!’ but you…you didn’t reply. He…he was going to…and then I saw that–” she nodded to the glint of black in the snow, “–just outside the door on the ground. Oh god, is he…? Did I…?”
She saved his life. He could hardly believe it. And if he told her his real name in the first place, Hannah never would have had to fire the weapon.
“Oh god, I-I killed him…” she choked out another round of sobs.
“Shh,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. It felt so natural, having her against his chest. Except he knew they were not finished here, not by a long shot. “Hannah. I need you to remain calm.” Mac leaned away, holding her small, frightened face in his hands. Those sapphire eyes were wide, staring up at him in hopes that he could make it all go away. Unfortunately, it never did. “I need your help, Hannah. Can you help me?”
She nodded, her entire body trembling violently. “Okay.”
“Good. Stand up and wait for me here. Don’t move.”
She did as he instructed, looking more shell-shocked than anyone he’d ever seen. Mac turned the body over and immediately, he recognized his would-be killer.
Mike Walsh. They last worked together on a job over six years ago, but before that, Mac cooperated with him at least once a year.
Ignoring the betrayal, he searched the man’s pockets for a phone and
Hannah, wonderful, beautiful and perfect Hannah, stood across from him in the entrance to the cabin holding a gun. He dropped the axe to reach into the back of his jeans.
Damn!
My own fucking gun!
The woman waited until she gained his trust, until he had his guard down and now she would take him out with his own weapon.
His chest ached; a crushing pain flowed through his entire body.
Why didn’t she just pull the God damned trigger already?
She kept inching closer to him, moving with the stealth of a mountain lion over the snow in her sock-covered feet.
I am the biggest fool in the universe , he mused disdainfully, bringing the protective hardness back up around his fast-beating heart.
Mac promised himself never to trust a woman again, not after he was captured by one and held in that God-awful place, and then here he went allowing it to happen again.
Hannah continued to close in on him and Mac bent his knees slowly to retrieve the axe. If she thought he would go down without a fight, the bitch was sorely mistaken.
Fingers closed around the wood of the handle as she cocked the gun and took aim. There wouldn’t be enough time for him to take a proper swing at her with the axe so that the blade hit her skin.
He focused on causing her any kind of damage possible and hated that he allowed his thoughts and indeed feelings to run rampant. Despised the fact that he actually let himself start to fall for this woman.
At the same time she squeezed the trigger, Hannah shut her eyes.
Mac waited for the inevitable sting, the burn of hot metal tearing through flesh on impact.
But he felt nothing.
She missed!
What kind of assassin missed?
Tears sprang from her eyes and she dropped to her knees, the gun falling to the snow before her. Try as he might, Mac couldn’t figure out what just transpired – until a strangled moan sounded from behind him.
Whipping around, he saw a man in the snow, his white winter gear pooling with red as he bled out. The snow splattered with pink. Wire in the man’s hands. The guy had been sneaking up on Mac while he chopped wood and Hannah…
Turning back towards her, Mac saw her clutching her chest and sobbing.
What the fuck just happened? he wondered, taking in the scene around him.
She saved his life, that’s what happened.
The woman who tore down his defenses and crept into his heart just saved his God damned worthless life.
“Hannah.” Kneeling down in front of her, Mac held her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.
“I…I called out…” she whimpered. “I yelled for you. I-I cried ‘John! John!’ but you…you didn’t reply. He…he was going to…and then I saw that–” she nodded to the glint of black in the snow, “–just outside the door on the ground. Oh god, is he…? Did I…?”
She saved his life. He could hardly believe it. And if he told her his real name in the first place, Hannah never would have had to fire the weapon.
“Oh god, I-I killed him…” she choked out another round of sobs.
“Shh,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. It felt so natural, having her against his chest. Except he knew they were not finished here, not by a long shot. “Hannah. I need you to remain calm.” Mac leaned away, holding her small, frightened face in his hands. Those sapphire eyes were wide, staring up at him in hopes that he could make it all go away. Unfortunately, it never did. “I need your help, Hannah. Can you help me?”
She nodded, her entire body trembling violently. “Okay.”
“Good. Stand up and wait for me here. Don’t move.”
She did as he instructed, looking more shell-shocked than anyone he’d ever seen. Mac turned the body over and immediately, he recognized his would-be killer.
Mike Walsh. They last worked together on a job over six years ago, but before that, Mac cooperated with him at least once a year.
Ignoring the betrayal, he searched the man’s pockets for a phone and
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