“Thanks, Finn.”

One hand remained on his shoulder as she stuffed the handgun down the back of her belt.

“Tell me the safety is on, Al.”

“It’s on.” She licked her lips, visibly straightened her shoulders, pulling herself together. His trail of thought ended at her mouth. Her lips. Christ. He had a job to do.

“Ready?” Finn gripped her hips, steering his mind clear of the fact that several of his fingers wrapped around soft, warm skin. But he could deal with that. The warm, female scent of her got him where it hurt. Burying his nose in her neck was right out of the question.

Concentrating was f**king impossible.

His stomach drew tight, his c**k swelled in his pants. Not the time to go there.

“Take it slow.” He held her steady as she inched one leg over, then the other. She balanced on the narrow strip of concrete by the toes of her shoes, fingers digging into his shoulders for dear life. “Give me both hands, Al. I’ll lower you down.”

“Okay.” She hesitated. He waited, long minutes that they couldn’t afford.

“I need you to trust me, Al,” he confessed. “Just like you trust him. It’s the only way we’re gonna get through this.”

“Don’t ask for much, do you?”

“Only what’s necessary.”

Her hands slid down from his shoulders, down his arms. It was the trip of a lifetime, charged with meaning despite his best efforts to keep it simple. He wanted her trust for a myriad of reasons, but he needed it to get the job done.

Her fingers, slick with sweat, met his palms. Gripping was a bitch, but he held on tight, easing her down. She hovered above Daniel’s grasp.

The noise came from his six. A footfal heard too late.

Finn released Ali’s fingers, trusting the man.

The bul et lit bloody fire across his shoulder. He swore, dropped and drew his gun from the holster at his side. A second bullet cut through the air his head had just vacated. Too late. The ass**le had had his chance.

No time to worry about noise or positions. Training and instincts took over. Finn aimed for the chest, going for the kill shot.

Once, twice, three times and done. He put the shooter down. One of the ass**les he had missed at the supermarket, something he really f**king regretted.

His heart hammered loud. Job done.

The body toppled to the ground in a contortion of limbs. Blood-soaked clothes and gun falling from limp hands. Everything seemed slow, his focus tight.

Getting shot was wel overrated. Blood oozed from his shoulder. It f**king hurt. Al wouldn’t be the only one investing in some of the painkillers in his pack.

Finn moved over to the body, pocketing the man’s weapon. He gave him a quick frisk, took anything of use. An expensive-looking pocket knife and some ammunition. A battered Zippo lighter, mostly full. He didn’t have time to search for more.

His pack slumped to one side, the weight of it pulling at him. The strap, torn by the bullet’s passing, had given way.

He dropped the pack over the fence, then followed, awkward and slow.

Daniel pulled Al out of the way.

The fal jarred his wound, and he cursed more than once. Steady pain bore a noxious beat, turning him inside out. He peeled back the neck of his bloody t-shirt. Every nerve in his shoulder screamed bloody murder, but he had only been winged.

It should have been more spectacular for the amount of pain.

“Have you got something we can tie that off with?” Daniel kept an arm around Al, propping her up. Chances weren’t high she would remain upright much longer.

By the sound of the roar, he knew the bikes were closing in fast. How they could tell a firefight over the bedlam was beyond Finn.

Very in keeping with their current shit luck.

“Later.” He tipped his chin at Al and Daniel nodded.

Finn doubted the woman even knew what was going on. She pressed her face into the big guy’s shirt, hands clutching him to keep upright. Without comment Daniel set his shoulder to her middle and up she went, draped over his back in a fireman’s hold.

“Hey.” Startled, her feet kicked out, but Daniel slapped a hand down over her ass.

“Hush, woman. Phase two of the plan?” The big man asked, hand settling on her rear with a final, affectionate pat.

“Run.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They had found a hovel to hide beneath for the night. Daniel knew it was a hovel. Bone deep. No debate. He lay on his back in the dirt, staring at the shadowy wooden floorboards a bare meter above his head. When he was a kid they’d lived in a similar place. A small two-bedroom cottage with walls so thin they’d shake. His father would stomp about, rattling the panes of glass in the window frames.

The old man loved to intimidate with his size. Prime perfect example of everything Daniel never wanted to be. No, he’d only wanted to protect Ali and he’d ballsed that up royal y. Guilt smothered him like lead-lining. It was amazing he could breathe.

He saw Finn crawling around in the near darkness, patrolling, watching the street. A machine had nothing on the kid as he went about his duty. Daniel didn’t know whether to be jealous or grateful or what. Mostly, he just felt tired. He could feel himself sinking into the ground, wanting to give in to it. A yawn cracked his jaw and he opened his eyes wide, trying to stay with it. They needed to be on the alert. Ramshackle fence palings hung on al sides of the cottage, little protection against anything, should anything manage to find them.

The situation was wel and truly f**ked.

His girl was out cold, a lovely load strewn across his chest because he beat the dirt floor, comfort-wise. And because he needed her close. If he were some cynical, sorry son of a bitch, he might have had a moment. He might have figured playing mattress was the most he was good for. There was no sugar coating it, he had failed her. He had lured her out of her hidey-hole, and then been too high on life and love to protect her. It couldn’t happen again. For the last couple of hours he’d been picking their problems apart, trying to come up with a solution.