When He's Bad (Walker Security Adrian’s Trilogy #2) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,18

glow, ready to blast us with Texas heat, and plenty of sunlight. It’s only now, watching it rise, in our exit formation, that I wonder why we didn’t leave under the cover of darkness, but I don’t ask questions. Now is not the time for conversation, and I’m confident enough in this group to know they have good reasons. They are the experts at survival, while it’s on me to be an expert in the courtroom when I face Waters. And I will, in a few short weeks.

We maneuver down the smooth rocks of the cavern that had been our shelter. Once we reach the clearing that Adrian and I had raced across the night before, Savage halts and holds up a hand.

We pause and wait as he scans our surroundings. My pulse kicks up a beat, with the idea that he might know of a threat we do not. The courtroom, not the forest, is my safe place, the zone where I excel, where I easily spot trouble, but as I visually hunt for it now, I find nothing. He must not either, as he waves us forward. My pulse slows and Adrian captures my hand, the mere act creating the collision of our stares he’s clearly intended. He lifts his chin toward the clearing. Savage shoots into action, running forward, and Adrian follows, leading me along with him, through mud and too much open space for comfort. Adrenaline is my friend and enemy, blurring my surroundings, and thus my ability to spy an enemy, but it also leaves me with nothing but a forward movement. Finally, in what is likely only a minute but feels like a year, we’re in the forest, and branches and foliage offer the coverage the new day has stolen.

There’s no dilly-dallying around either. We’re already moving again, our path rugged and filled with obstacles. In the light of day, and the downpour over, snakes are probably less of a problem than flying bullets, but still worthy of creating caution.

But we don’t tread cautiously, not at all. We charge onward, one mile that becomes two, I think, mosquitoes and gnats swarming us in suffocating numbers. Still, we press onward. Finally, we cut up a hill and a paved road comes into view, as do three motorcycles. I assume they’re our rides home, but then Savage holds up a hand again and starts walking toward the bikes on his own. My heart leaps with the obvious possibility that they belong to the Devils. Adrian somehow reads me and catches my gaze. He mouths, “Ours.”

I breathe out, relief expelled from my chest, and already Savage is motioning us forward. Adrian claims a shiny black motorcycle with a yellow streak. He hands me a helmet and I’ve actually never been on a bike, but not much rattles me. Well, except tunnels under cabins that could collapse at any moment.

Securing my helmet, Adrian does the same of his and throws his leg over the bike. Savage and Adam have already mounted. I don’t have to be told to climb on behind Adrian, not when I want the heck out of here. I hike myself on board and wrap my arms around him, and he grabs my hands and closes my fingers around his belt loops.

Once I’m secure, the three men lift hands in the air, seeming to complete some count before, in unison, they rev their engines. Adrian is the first to pull onto the road, but we are not alone. A cluster of three motorcycles blast out of the woods and in our direction. I scream as gunfire rips through the air and Adrian shouts, “Hold on!”

I’m already leaning into Adrian, holding on to his belt now, and it’s a good thing. He swerves, left and right, no doubt trying to turn us into a difficult target. Savage and Adam’s bikes appear by our sides and both men hold weapons, firing behind us. A motorcycle skids off the road.

Adrian zooms past the scene, accelerating, leaving Adam and Savage to handle our attackers. Our path appears free, but our speed is intense, and at moments, we’re all but sideways as we travel wild curves left and right until Adrian directs us off the road. We skid to an abrupt halt and he says nothing, focused on his intent, which appears to be him acting on his fear that I’m not secured properly.

He grabs a rope from I don’t know where, and wraps it around us, anchoring me to