advertised the lotto and smokes. Bursts of brilliant color decorated the greasy lot.
Surveying was still all wrong. He wasn’t surveying. Anticipating, perhaps. He walked toward the cashier without moving his steel hard gaze from her direction.
The unnerving glare sent butterflies swarming in her stomach. As if he knew what evil lurked in the shadows. He grabbed the bag from the store clerk, then his long legs carried him back toward her. He was hurried. Distressed. His face turned darker, to something intent on destruction.
A large hand slapped her mouth, shoving a rancid rag into it, burning her swollen lips. Coarse fabric abraded her tongue. It tasted foul and smelled like the gas station—gasoline, perspiration, and stale tobacco smoke. Bile rose at the back of her throat. The urge to gag pushed at her, and her stomach convulsed. Her head was thick and groggy, her arms and legs weighted. The dim parking lot lights blurred and swirled like a Tilt-A-Whirl, and she fell into a stranger’s arms.
She wanted to turn and pull away, but she couldn’t fight. Her limbs were glued to her side, as if she’d drowned in cold molasses. She was suffocating and couldn’t reach for Winters. He was miles away as her vision skewed sideways, blurring buildings and pumps and with now dimming colors. Bright yellows and greens turned soupy orange and tan. The dark and inky sky mixed, and she didn’t know which way was up or which way was down.
The arms around her compressed her lungs, moving her against her will. Mia’s feet dragged on the ground, and she couldn’t lift them. One shoe slipped off, and her heel scratched over the greasy ground. Pain blossomed at her heel and ankle, radiating up her paralyzed legs.
Her attacker struggled, wheezing and stumbling. It had been easy enough for Winters to throw her over his shoulder. But now, with these rawboned arms wrapped around her tight chest, he dug into her armpits. Maybe there was still a chance Winters could get to her.
Help. Please, Winters. The thoughts were slow and hazy. Her eyelids became too heavy to hold open. The humid night air suffocated her. There were loud noises in the background, but nothing distinguishable. And it all faded to black.
CHAPTER SIX
Something felt wrong when he entered the store. His honed instincts flared. He knew it, feeling the tingle of expectation, and he was right. The clerk eyed him with more than a hint of curiosity. A hesitation. Winters always caused a little apprehension, but there was more to it. An alarmed awareness. He failed to act on his gut feeling—that intuition of danger ahead and to get in gear. He was off his game.
Few routes existed from Louisville to Northern Virginia. He chose Interstate 64 East. Safe, fast, and apparently predictable. It took them through the middle of nowhere into the Appalachian Mountains before returning to the buzz of DC’s outskirts.
He pulled out his cell after returning the Glock to its holster. Two bars of service. Not bad.
The phone rang once before Jared picked up.
“What’s your problem now? Let me guess. The lady landed one of her kicks.” Jared laughed.
“Screw you. We had a snatch and grab. I have the package but lost the lady. They’re on foot. I’m headed after them.”
“Jesus, Winters. She wouldn’t be your responsibility if you’d left her in the first place.”
“But I didn’t, and she is.” His chest ached as he tried to keep his patience. Now wasn’t the time to blow his shit.
“Fix this. I better not hear about Titan in some local news report.”
“Just reporting in, boss man. I’ll go radio silent if you want.”
“What I want is to know how the fuck this happened.”
The storefront windows were shattered. Fragments of glass still hung in the window panes but most of it glittered on the sidewalk in front of the store. A small fire skimmed across the gasoline soaked parking lot. At least the sparks hadn’t ignited any pumps. A
Surveying was still all wrong. He wasn’t surveying. Anticipating, perhaps. He walked toward the cashier without moving his steel hard gaze from her direction.
The unnerving glare sent butterflies swarming in her stomach. As if he knew what evil lurked in the shadows. He grabbed the bag from the store clerk, then his long legs carried him back toward her. He was hurried. Distressed. His face turned darker, to something intent on destruction.
A large hand slapped her mouth, shoving a rancid rag into it, burning her swollen lips. Coarse fabric abraded her tongue. It tasted foul and smelled like the gas station—gasoline, perspiration, and stale tobacco smoke. Bile rose at the back of her throat. The urge to gag pushed at her, and her stomach convulsed. Her head was thick and groggy, her arms and legs weighted. The dim parking lot lights blurred and swirled like a Tilt-A-Whirl, and she fell into a stranger’s arms.
She wanted to turn and pull away, but she couldn’t fight. Her limbs were glued to her side, as if she’d drowned in cold molasses. She was suffocating and couldn’t reach for Winters. He was miles away as her vision skewed sideways, blurring buildings and pumps and with now dimming colors. Bright yellows and greens turned soupy orange and tan. The dark and inky sky mixed, and she didn’t know which way was up or which way was down.
The arms around her compressed her lungs, moving her against her will. Mia’s feet dragged on the ground, and she couldn’t lift them. One shoe slipped off, and her heel scratched over the greasy ground. Pain blossomed at her heel and ankle, radiating up her paralyzed legs.
Her attacker struggled, wheezing and stumbling. It had been easy enough for Winters to throw her over his shoulder. But now, with these rawboned arms wrapped around her tight chest, he dug into her armpits. Maybe there was still a chance Winters could get to her.
Help. Please, Winters. The thoughts were slow and hazy. Her eyelids became too heavy to hold open. The humid night air suffocated her. There were loud noises in the background, but nothing distinguishable. And it all faded to black.
CHAPTER SIX
Something felt wrong when he entered the store. His honed instincts flared. He knew it, feeling the tingle of expectation, and he was right. The clerk eyed him with more than a hint of curiosity. A hesitation. Winters always caused a little apprehension, but there was more to it. An alarmed awareness. He failed to act on his gut feeling—that intuition of danger ahead and to get in gear. He was off his game.
Few routes existed from Louisville to Northern Virginia. He chose Interstate 64 East. Safe, fast, and apparently predictable. It took them through the middle of nowhere into the Appalachian Mountains before returning to the buzz of DC’s outskirts.
He pulled out his cell after returning the Glock to its holster. Two bars of service. Not bad.
The phone rang once before Jared picked up.
“What’s your problem now? Let me guess. The lady landed one of her kicks.” Jared laughed.
“Screw you. We had a snatch and grab. I have the package but lost the lady. They’re on foot. I’m headed after them.”
“Jesus, Winters. She wouldn’t be your responsibility if you’d left her in the first place.”
“But I didn’t, and she is.” His chest ached as he tried to keep his patience. Now wasn’t the time to blow his shit.
“Fix this. I better not hear about Titan in some local news report.”
“Just reporting in, boss man. I’ll go radio silent if you want.”
“What I want is to know how the fuck this happened.”
The storefront windows were shattered. Fragments of glass still hung in the window panes but most of it glittered on the sidewalk in front of the store. A small fire skimmed across the gasoline soaked parking lot. At least the sparks hadn’t ignited any pumps. A
Similar Books
