Midnight Kiss (Men of Midnight #7) - Lisa Marie Rice Page 0,96
utter clarity, maybe the last intuition of her life. Love had always seemed so far from anything she could ever experience, something not ever meant for her. But here it was. She admired him, cared for him. Loved him. Wanted to be with him for the rest of her life.
She’d cheated death twenty-five years ago but death had only been lying in wait. It was coming to claim her, maybe angry that she’d escaped it all those years ago. Maybe that was her destiny but it wasn’t Luke’s. It was wrong for Luke to die. Luke — so brave and so noble. A truly good man. He didn’t deserve to die. She’d do everything in her power to keep him alive.
The smoke was thick enough now to be visible. It burned the eyes and throat and she was sure the air was hotter than a few minutes ago. Maybe the fire wasn’t far off in the living room but was right outside that door.
They had to go, now.
“Up you go,” she said, tugging at Luke’s good arm. He coughed hard, without opening his eyes. “Up, Luke,” she said again. His combat boots scrabbled on the floor until they found some purchase and he rose shakily to his feet. “Lean on me.”
He did, heavily. Hope nearly staggered under his weight. What had seemed like a small shot at survival while he was on the floor now seemed almost impossible. They’d have to move fast but he was barely able to stay on his feet. God, she couldn’t carry him, didn’t think she could drag him if he fell.
Despair washed over her. Either they’d have to walk through fire or be exposed to gunfire. Probably both. Even if they managed to make it to the garage, getting Luke into the vehicle was going to be hard.
The only way to deal with it was like dealing with an IT problem. Step by step. Solve problem one, go on to problem two.
Problem one — keeping Luke upright. She angled herself under his right shoulder, put his right arm around her, and snaked her left arm around his waist. Holding him up, barely.
Now to get going. The smell of smoke was intense and her eyes stung. God help them if the fire was right outside the gun locker. Guns … she eyed the walls, filled with guns. Guns everywhere. Guns would help if she knew how to shoot, which she didn’t. Luke already had his own gun. It hadn’t left his hand in all this time. He wasn’t letting it go, and it rested on her shoulder, clutched in his hand.
She didn’t know if he had the strength to lift it, to shoot it. Even if he did, he certainly couldn’t handle more than one.
When she opened the door, they’d be met by a wall of smoke, so she took in a deep breath and startled when a face appeared on her cell.
Bard Redfield.
“Shooter’s gone.” His face was drawn, his voice urgent. “Men from Black Inc are arriving right now. Get out of there as fast as you can.”
“There’s a shooting drone right outside!” It was hard to keep the panic from her voice.
“No. The drone has been taken down, man operating it is … neutralized. Get out!”
Hope tried to study that face with such oddly familiar features, tried to see the truth in pixels on a small screen. Was this a ruse? Were the men outside, trying to kill them, his men? Was he simply trying to make things easier for his killers?
Was she going to lead Luke to his death? Wipe out that infinitesimal chance they had of surviving this?
That dark, weather-beaten face came closer, filled the screen. “Listen to me, Hope. I loved your mother with all my heart. I thought she’d left me when I was wounded. I had no idea —” His deep voice cracked. “No idea she’d been killed, no idea you existed. I would never ever harm you. You need to get out of that house and get to Black’s men outside. You trust Jacob Black, right?”
She nodded, throat too tight to talk.
“Then trust them until I get a chance to earn your trust. But do this for me — live. Get out alive. I am coming for you as fast as I can.”
“Luke needs medical attention, now.”
“They all have medic training. Now go!”
Hope settled her shoulder more solidly under Luke’s arm and reached out to open the gun locker door.