Strategic Maneuvers - Jemma Westbrook Page 0,83
place.” Mona ran through the snow, following the footprints pressed into the perfect fall.
“You get used to it.” Helen was definitely bionic.
The woman took stairs like she ran them daily and she wasn’t acting even a little bothered by the snow and frigid air.
“I keep hearing that.” Mona huffed along beside Helen, trying to keep up, hoping the exertion would at least keep her warm.
They were less than twenty yards from the building when the sound of an explosion came from the front of the property.
Mona reached for Helen just as Helen reached for her. They grabbed each other and fell to the ground, covering their heads as another explosion made the ground under them rumble.
“That’s probably not good.” Helen pushed to her feet. “Come on.”
Mona lifted her head, watching Helen race toward the tree line.
“Shit.” She couldn’t just let Helen go on her own.
She fought her way up, dusting off the snow clinging to the thick weave of her sweater as she ran. Thank God she’d put on that second layer. Not that it stopped the cold, but it was better than nothing.
Mona scanned the space around her, trying to get her bearings. She was used to looking at the property through the security cameras, not in real life.
With the exception of the single time she’d ventured out here, and that wasn’t of her own volition.
“I hope you ground the shit out of her when we find her.” Mona managed to catch up to Helen, her breath coming in choppy bursts as the cold made her chest and lungs burn.
“You need to work out more.” Helen was barely breathing hard as they reached the trees. “What’s back here?”
“Trees and a fence.” Mona stopped, grabbing Helen as a familiar sound carried through the air.
Helen’s eyes widened. “It’s a snowmobile.”
Son of a bitch.
“Hurry.” Mona pushed her numb legs to move faster. “They’re trying to come get her.”
“How do you know?”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Helen.” Mona tried her best to use the trees around them for cover, but unfortunately the spindly branches didn’t offer much in the way of camouflage. All they had were trunks, and there weren’t nearly enough of those.
Probably by design.
At least the sun was dipping lower, offering a little more in the way of concealment.
Unfortunately that worked the same way for whoever they were following.
“This better be her.” Mona clenched her teeth together to stop the chattering as she trudged on.
“It’s her.” Helen squinted in the dimming light. “She’s trying to make me grey.”
Mona glanced at her partner in crime. “You’re already grey.”
“What’s that tell you?” Helen pointed toward the back of the property. “There. Come on.”
Mona and Helen crept along, moving slower as they got closer to the fence peeking through the trees.
“Hurry.” A feminine voice made them both stop.
Helen gave Mona a nod.
“I’ve almost got it.” The deep voice of a man sent Helen moving again, leaving Mona to once again attempt to catch up with her.
“Helen’s going to realize I’m gone and she’s—“
Helen broke through the last of the trees. “She’s going to come drag your ass back where it belongs.”
Mona could only see Helen, the rest of the scene being blocked by a single large tree. Helen reached into the back of her pants and pulled out a pistol, pointing it at someone that Mona couldn’t see. “Get away from her.”
“I don’t believe I will.” The words were clear and concise. “I’ve done a lot to find her and keep her safe. You can believe I’m not stopping now.”
Helen’s brows lifted. “You’re keeping her safe?” Helen snorted. “Come on, Mi-Mi. It’s time to go back where you’re supposed to be.”
“I’m supposed to be with Anthony.” Amelia’s voice was that of every teenager who decided the life they had was unfair and stifling. “He’s my uncle. He wants what’s best for me.”
“I want what’s best for you.”
“Is that why you never told me the truth about my parents? Why you let the man who killed my dad bring us here?” The pain in Amelia’s words was palpable.
She’d been fed a diet of half-truths and all she wanted to hear from a man with a singular interest.
And it wasn’t the safety of his niece.
The chances of Helen coaxing Amelia back were slim to none.
But so were the chances of Amelia leaving with Anthony. Pierce would never recover from it.
Which meant she had to do something.
Mona reached into the back of her pants, gripping the pistol she didn’t put in its place like Pierce asked her