Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,17

“But that—I mean—they must know this is illegal.”

“I’m sure they do.” Wade didn’t bother to mask the irritation in his voice. He was hot, tired, and not in the mood to give a lesson in illicit crop agriculture. “Not only is the crop illegal, they’re growing it in a nature preserve. But it’s hard to resist the lure of easy money, especially when you’re destitute and desperate to feed your family.”

Disapproval darkened her features. “You’re okay with this?”

“No, of course not. I don’t condone the behavior, but I understand the reasoning behind it.” He looked over at Hector. “We’ll make a note of it and pass it along to the proper authorities when the time is right.”

“And when will that be?” Hope asked.

“When we finish what we came here for. Now let’s get going before anybody sees us.”

As they turned to skirt the edge of the field, Wade heard the unmistakable rack of a shotgun. His heart slammed against his rib cage.

“Shit. Get down!”

A deafening boom filled the air and sent birds soaring high above the treetops. Wade dove for Hope, tackling her to the ground, using his bulk to shield her body from the brunt of the impact. They rolled—once, twice—and then came to a stop with him on top of her and their mouths a whisper apart.

Slightly disoriented, he stared down at her, his ears ringing from the sound of the blast and his breath mingling with hers. “Are you okay? Are you hit?”

“Can’t breathe,” she wheezed. “Get off me.”

He pushed up onto his forearms so his weight wouldn’t crush her, and a part of him that he refused to acknowledge kind of missed having her body pressed to his.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

Face flushed and slightly dazed, she peered down at her body and then back up at him. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” The tightness in his chest relaxed. He darted a glance to his right, where he found Hector, unharmed and crouching low to the ground. When their eyes met, Hector gestured with his head toward the forest. Wade nodded in return and then shifted his attention to Hope. “We need to get out of here. Keep low, so they can’t see us over the field, and don’t stop running until I give the all clear. Got it?”

Hope blew out a shaky breath, but she seemed to be holding it together, which earned her points in his book. “Yeah, I got it. Where’s my bag?”

He looked around and spotted it on the ground several feet away, not far from his shotgun. Thankfully, the bag was zipped shut, so none of its contents had scattered. Reaching out, he grabbed both by the straps and dragged them over.

“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.

Gripping her hand, he hoisted her up, and they sprinted in a crouch toward the safety of the dense vegetation. Another shotgun blast ripped through the air, and wood chips rained down on their heads as the round tore into the trunk of a tree. With his free hand, Wade unsheathed his machete and hacked through the thick underbrush. He couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of his face, and he prayed to God that he wasn’t leading them straight to the edge of a cliff.

Thankfully, they reached a small clearing instead, and they skidded to a stop.

“We should be far enough away now.” Wade let go of Hope’s hand. He wiped the machete against his pants and slid the blade into its sheath. He hadn’t heard any gunshots in the past few minutes, leading him to believe that whoever fired at them had given up the chase. Most likely, they just wanted to scare them away. Mission fucking accomplished.

“Good,” Hope said between huge gulps of air. Face still red from exertion, she bent at the waist and braced her hands on her hips. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re fine; you’re just out of breath.” They hadn’t eaten anything in more than four hours, and he’d be surprised if she actually had anything left in the tank to heave.

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, though her face was still flushed. She straightened and smoothed a hand over her hair, most of which had escaped its ponytail. “Where’s Hector?”

“I don’t know. He took off in a different direction.” Wade let out a short, piercing whistle, and when somebody whistled back less than a minute later, he felt a strong sense of relief. From what he could tell, Hector wasn’t far away,