Targeted Risk (R.I.S.C. #7) - Anna Blakely Page 0,63

her defense, she’d just woken up from having blacked out and her thought processes were slightly impaired. Also, she’d been terrified that Fuller would wake up to find her body over his while she searched for the damn thing.

“You can’t run forever!”

Juliet’s footing stuttered and she tripped again. That time when she fell, she stayed down and listened closely.

Was that voice real, or did I imagine it?

“Come on, Juliet. It’s too cold to be doing this shit. Just come back here, and we’ll go find help together.”

Oh, God! It’s really him!

Ignoring the pounding in her head and the pain in her chest, Juliet jumped to her feet and took off, again. Several yards later, she caught site of a long stretch of white opening through the trees.

It was hard to tell if it was a road or what, but she decided to go for it, all the same. As she got closer to it, she realized it was too narrow to be an actual road. A trail maybe?

Trails lead to things. Maybe this one would lead her to people...and a phone she could use to call Mike.

Her heart ached worse than her head, but she gritted her teeth and forced all of that away. Letting herself travel down that path would most certainly deter her from what needed to be done.

Small, white clouds escaped Juliet’s mouth with each breath as she broke through to the trail. She knew her boot prints would lead Fuller straight to her but avoiding them in the ever-accumulating snow was an impossible feat.

She’d just have to push herself faster. Put as much distance between them as possible. Best case scenario, his injury would slow him down enough for her to escape.

Worst case, he’d catch up to her and kill her. But hey, at least she’d die knowing she tried.

A tiny, hysterical laugh bubbled up and was set free. Juliet instantly rolled her lips inward to cut off the sound. If he heard her, he may be more motivated to keep coming.

Her body trembled, and her goosebumps had goosebumps. Her boots felt heavier and heavier with each step, but damn it, she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t...

There!

Juliet spotted a large clearing up ahead. The ground was covered, and the densely falling snow made it almost impossible to see anything beyond it, but it had to mean something. The edge of someone’s property, maybe?

Her renewed hope brought with it a sudden burst of energy. Juliet pushed herself harder. Faster. And before she knew it, she was at the trees’ edge and running through the clearing.

Big, fat snowflakes kept landing on her lashes, but she blinked them away. A chilly breeze blew past, instantly freezing several strands of her long, dampening hair, but she brushed them off her face and kept going.

You’ve got this, baby. Don’t give up.

It was as if Mike was by her side, cheering her on.

She smiled, picturing his handsome face and those heart-thundering eyes. Soon her imagination and wishful thinking began to take over, and before she knew it, she’d reached the end of the clearing...and the edge of a very sharp, very deep cliff.

Juliet cried out, her outstretched arms mimicking a helicopter’s blades as they swirled about at her sides to keep her from falling. The toes of her boots hung over the land’s edge and clumps of snow tumbled down into the wintery abyss.

Looking down, her heart thumped against her ribs when she got her first good look at what was almost her grave.

Steep, uneven walls seemed to go on forever, their surface littered with sharp edges and a few trees that had managed to find their way through the cracks.

A narrow river divided the deadly cavern. Its edges lined with piles of rocks that meant instant death for anyone unlucky enough to fall.

With her breath frozen in her lungs—almost literally—Juliet carefully slid herself back away from the ledge. First her left foot, then her right. She didn’t stop until there was a solid yard between her and the drop-off.

Exhaling slowly, Juliet’s chin quivered as she released a long, slow breath. Her entire body shook, the sweater and jeans she’d put on this morning useless against the frigid air. But she was still alive, so she had to keep going.

She turned away from the cliff to assess her surrounding and decide which direction to travel in next. But the man limping toward her—and the gun in his hand—prevented her from going anywhere.

“You’re a f-fighter.” Fuller trudged closer, the slowly trickling blood leaving