Tennessee Takedown by Lena Diaz

they probably both have guns this time?”
    He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the trees behind him.
    One of her bare feet came down on a hard rock. She yelped and tugged her hand out of his grasp. “My shoes. I need my shoes. They’re back over—”
    The wood exploded on the tree by her right leg and a deafening boom echoed through the clearing.
    Ashley took off running, leaving Dillon to chase after her.

Chapter Five
    “Why are we stopping?” Ashley tried to say, but it came out more like “wwwwhy are wwweee stoppppiiinng” between her chattering, clenched teeth. The cold wouldn’t have bothered her so much if she wasn’t cold and wet. And she had a stitch in her side from running so long and so hard over rough terrain. She clutched the nearest tree for support and drew deep, gasping breaths while trying to will away the painful ache in her side.
    She certainly didn’t mind stopping—that wasn’t why she’d asked the question. She’d like nothing more than to curl into a tight ball on the forest floor and give her aching muscles a rest, in spite of the incessant rain still coming down. But she also didn’t want to give their pursuers a chance to catch up to them.
    Dillon didn’t spare her more than a quick glance. He slid the clip out of the gun and checked it, then slid it back in until it clicked. He stood protectively in front of her, peering into the gloom surrounding them. The darkness would have been welcome under the circumstances, since it helped conceal them, but lightning kept flashing overhead like a spotlight.
    “Why did we stop?” she repeated, proud she’d managed to speak coherently this time without her teeth chattering. She impatiently shoved her wet hair out of her eyes.
    “We’re almost at the end of the island.” His voice was pitched low. “If we keep running, we’ll end up in the river. We’ll have to double back, find somewhere to shelter and take a stand.” He glanced at her. “Besides, your feet are a bloody mess. The only reason you’re still able to run is because the cold has made you numb.”
    She lifted one of her feet, gasping when she saw the blood. He was right. She hadn’t even felt the pain. But of course, now that he’d mentioned it, her feet started throbbing.
    “Okay, ouch. But it doesn’t matter. We have to keep going. I’d really love not to get shot today.”
    Amusement lit his eyes and he raised a brow.
    Her face flushed hot. “Yes, I know. You’ve been shot, what, two, three times? I’m really, really sorry about that.”
    He let out a puff of laughter. “You’re not the only one.” He absently rubbed his chest as if it pained him and scanned the trees again. Seemingly satisfied, he shoved his gun in his waistband, then pulled his shirt off over his head.
    Ashley blinked in surprise, and her mouth suddenly watered in appreciation. The bulletproof vest hid much of his chest, but his bulging biceps were now displayed for her viewing pleasure. She’d always been a sucker for muscles and golden skin, and Dillon’s arms were like a sculpted work of art. Her fingers itched with the desire to slide over that smooth skin, up his arms, over his broad shoulders to sink into his thick, dark hair. How good would it feel to have those strong arms close around her and cradle her to his chest? What would the rest of his body look like without the armor? Would it be as enticing as she imagined? Or even better?
    A ripping sound had her blinking again. She’d zoned out, fixating on totally inappropriate thoughts given their circumstances. She blamed her lack of focus on blood loss from her injured feet. Dillon, thankfully, didn’t seem to have noticed her distraction. He was too busy cutting strips off his shirt with a pocketknife.
    “Detective Gray—”
    “Dillon.”
    “Dillon, it’s cold out here. And it’s still raining. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
    “I did notice, actually. Especially since I swam in a freezing-cold river to get