Present Tense (A Parker & Coe, Love and Bullets Thriller Book 2) by Alana Matthews Page B
Authors: Alana Matthews
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else had handled the dirty work.
I got to my feet and crossed to the desk, scooping up the walkie-talkie from the floor. If they were coming after me, I might as well have as much information as possible, and with any luck they wouldn't know I had the radio.
But as I turned and headed for the door, I heard tires on dirt and took a quick detour, ducking out of sight. I moved to the window above the cot and peeked past the curtain, expecting to see either an F-150 pickup or a black SUV—or both—but was thrilled when I saw Parker's navy blue Range Rover pull to a stop next to the RANGER SUB-STATION 5 sign.
Oh, thank God.
Thank God, thank God, thank God.
He'd heard at least part of what I'd said, and at that moment I couldn't have been more relieved. I'm not the type of girl who prays for a man to pull her out of tight situations, but when it's a man as able as Parker is, I'd be crazy not to be overjoyed.
As he got out of the car and looked down at the crumpled body of Renner, I bolted out of that shack and flung myself into his arms.
And, naturally, that's exactly the moment Swan's hunting party decided to show up, both vehicles blazing down the road toward us.
The bastards.
How were Parker and I supposed to have a moment if they couldn't respect our privacy?
FIFTEEN
"Get in the car," I said. "We need to go."
He stared at me incredulously. I must have looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. "Jesus. Are you okay?"
"I will be once we're gone."
He gestured to Renner. "Who the hell is this guy? Did you shoot a ranger ?"
"I'll explain later, all right?" I nodded to the approaching trucks. They were still a distance away, but they were coming fast. "Those guys are friends of his and they will kill us."
"Who are they? Did they hurt you?"
"Parker, as much as I'd love to cuddle and tell you all about my fun-filled day, that's never gonna happen if we don't start moving. Those men want the prisoner dead and from this distance they probably think you're him. Now get in the car."
I pulled away from him and started for the Rover, but Parker didn't budge. He stood there and stared at the two vehicles, quietly assessing them as they approached.
"How many men?" he asked.
I stopped. "Are you crazy ? They're armed and very, very danger—"
"How many?"
I pushed out a breath. "Five. I counted five. Two in the SUV, three in the pickup. But that's just a guess. Can we please go now?"
The trucks were getting closer.
"What kind of firepower?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Just answer the question, Kelsey."
"Rifles. All I saw were hunting rifles."
He nodded, then finally, thankfully, started toward the Rover. I went around to the passenger side to climb in, but stopped short when Parker threw open his door and reached for the rifle rack between the seats.
He tugged his shotgun free and gestured to the glove box in front of the passenger's seat. "Hand me the badge in there."
Parker was a former Deputy U.S. Marshal and didn't have much restraint when it came to pretending he was still with the department. I'd warned him what could happen if he was ever caught impersonating a deputy, but it didn't have much impact.
"Come on ," I cried. "What are you gonna do?"
"Control the situation."
" These men are killers. "
"Maybe so, but there's no point in trying to outrun them. And if they think I'm law enforcement, they're likely to believe I've done the logical thing and called in the cavalry—especially with a dead ranger on the ground over there."
"He's not a ranger. He's a friend of theirs."
"Let's see if that's still true."
If this is the first time you're meeting Parker, you should probably be aware that he's one of the most stubborn men I've ever known. Once he's made his mind up to do something, he does it, and you're wasting your breath if you think you can talk him out of it.
There are times I appreciate this personality trait, and times I'm infuriated by it.
Guess which one this was.
"Parker, if you think you
I got to my feet and crossed to the desk, scooping up the walkie-talkie from the floor. If they were coming after me, I might as well have as much information as possible, and with any luck they wouldn't know I had the radio.
But as I turned and headed for the door, I heard tires on dirt and took a quick detour, ducking out of sight. I moved to the window above the cot and peeked past the curtain, expecting to see either an F-150 pickup or a black SUV—or both—but was thrilled when I saw Parker's navy blue Range Rover pull to a stop next to the RANGER SUB-STATION 5 sign.
Oh, thank God.
Thank God, thank God, thank God.
He'd heard at least part of what I'd said, and at that moment I couldn't have been more relieved. I'm not the type of girl who prays for a man to pull her out of tight situations, but when it's a man as able as Parker is, I'd be crazy not to be overjoyed.
As he got out of the car and looked down at the crumpled body of Renner, I bolted out of that shack and flung myself into his arms.
And, naturally, that's exactly the moment Swan's hunting party decided to show up, both vehicles blazing down the road toward us.
The bastards.
How were Parker and I supposed to have a moment if they couldn't respect our privacy?
FIFTEEN
"Get in the car," I said. "We need to go."
He stared at me incredulously. I must have looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. "Jesus. Are you okay?"
"I will be once we're gone."
He gestured to Renner. "Who the hell is this guy? Did you shoot a ranger ?"
"I'll explain later, all right?" I nodded to the approaching trucks. They were still a distance away, but they were coming fast. "Those guys are friends of his and they will kill us."
"Who are they? Did they hurt you?"
"Parker, as much as I'd love to cuddle and tell you all about my fun-filled day, that's never gonna happen if we don't start moving. Those men want the prisoner dead and from this distance they probably think you're him. Now get in the car."
I pulled away from him and started for the Rover, but Parker didn't budge. He stood there and stared at the two vehicles, quietly assessing them as they approached.
"How many men?" he asked.
I stopped. "Are you crazy ? They're armed and very, very danger—"
"How many?"
I pushed out a breath. "Five. I counted five. Two in the SUV, three in the pickup. But that's just a guess. Can we please go now?"
The trucks were getting closer.
"What kind of firepower?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Just answer the question, Kelsey."
"Rifles. All I saw were hunting rifles."
He nodded, then finally, thankfully, started toward the Rover. I went around to the passenger side to climb in, but stopped short when Parker threw open his door and reached for the rifle rack between the seats.
He tugged his shotgun free and gestured to the glove box in front of the passenger's seat. "Hand me the badge in there."
Parker was a former Deputy U.S. Marshal and didn't have much restraint when it came to pretending he was still with the department. I'd warned him what could happen if he was ever caught impersonating a deputy, but it didn't have much impact.
"Come on ," I cried. "What are you gonna do?"
"Control the situation."
" These men are killers. "
"Maybe so, but there's no point in trying to outrun them. And if they think I'm law enforcement, they're likely to believe I've done the logical thing and called in the cavalry—especially with a dead ranger on the ground over there."
"He's not a ranger. He's a friend of theirs."
"Let's see if that's still true."
If this is the first time you're meeting Parker, you should probably be aware that he's one of the most stubborn men I've ever known. Once he's made his mind up to do something, he does it, and you're wasting your breath if you think you can talk him out of it.
There are times I appreciate this personality trait, and times I'm infuriated by it.
Guess which one this was.
"Parker, if you think you
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