Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,56

shelter overnight in Alaska that I figured I could survive a few days if we were far away from the hotel.

I kept going, inching my way forward until I was at the door. I stood up slowly, and peeked outside. Nothing. The coast was clear, and I was getting the hell out of this musty barn. I put one foot on the ground.

No one showed up. Keeping my body flat against the tin wall, I edged my way to the side. I couldn’t see much in just the moonlight, but in front of me was a patch of solid blackness, which was probably woods. That’s where I’d go. I’d just have to hope I didn’t find a bear or a snake while I was in there without even a flashlight.

Why the fuck had I been so mean to Jackson?

No. I couldn’t think about that now. Whatever they’d drugged me with had affected my emotions, because I wanted to sit down and bawl my eyes out. But that could wait. Once I was back at the hotel, I could have a total meltdown. I could scream and cry and I could call Jackson and apologize.

A honey bee buzzed by and I froze. I definitely did not want to get stung right now. If I’d been outside at home, there’d have been a symphony of crickets, chirping at top volume. I rubbed my eyes.

Stay focused. You can reminisce about the crickets in Georgia once you’re away from this place.

I took one step forward and was met with strong arms and a solid chest.

Before I could scream, Jackson’s scent filled my nose, and his hand came up to my mouth. “Don’t scream,” he said. “It’s me.”

“Oh thank God. I was just about to make a run for it, and I was really dreading going into those woods.”

He kissed the side of my head. “You may still have to. We’re not in the clear yet.”

“In that case, let’s --” I never got to finish my sentence.

One of the men from the barn was behind us. “Freeze,” he said.

He had a handgun pointed at the back of Jackson’s head.

I froze, barely even breathing.

Jackson seemed to draw in a deep breath, and then he did a swift, complicated move that I couldn’t explain, turning and grabbing the man’s gun from him. He pointed it in his direction.

“I’m giving you a chance to go,” Jackson said calmly. “Run away. You’re not the boss here, I can tell.”

The guy didn’t run. He pulled a knife and lunged at Jackson, slicing down his shirt.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Jackson said. “Just go. Get the fuck out of here.”

Just then several others came running, clattering through the barn.

“Loren, go. Run,” he whispered. But I couldn’t seem to make my body move. Then the men who were running toward us opened fire, and the man in front of Jackson jumped at him again. They both hit the ground.

Shots rang out and Jackson rolled, using the man as a shield. Jackson pointed the gun at the men running toward us and fired one, two, three, four times.

And then five, to the man that was on top of him, trying to stab him in the throat.

Then everything was silent.

He shoved the man off and got to his feet. He grabbed my arms. “Are you okay? Were you hit?”

I stood there with my mouth open. Just minutes ago, seconds even, five men were alive. Now they were dead. Jackson had killed them all, in rapid succession. His aim had been perfect. It would have been impressive if it wasn’t so horrifying.

And he’d tried to give the first one a way out. Not once, but twice. Why hadn’t the guy taken it?

And I knew Rangers were elite soldiers in the military world, but I didn’t realize he could dispatch five people all by himself, so quickly. “I’m fine,” I said. “Jackson --”

“Save whatever you’re going to say. We don’t know how many of them there are. So we need to clear out of here. But first I want to see if they have my phone.” He grabbed me by the wrist, stopping when his hand touched the sticky blood.

“I might have panicked when I was trying to get out of the rope,” I said. “Just a little.”

He moved his hand to my elbow. “You’re tough. You did good.” He tugged me forward, dragging me back inside the shed.

We went past the area where I’d been tied up. Apparently Jackson had been tied up in