Page 38 of The Knight

The box of kibble slipped from his fingers, thudding onto the counter. His hand instinctively went to the gun tucked in the waistband of his pants.

What the fuck?Tell me that was an arctic hare or some rare Icelandic deer.

He waited, holding his breath, fiery blood scouring his veins.

Clouds scudded across the sky, momentarily casting the world in shadow—and one of those shadows moved. To his left.

He swung out of sight of the window.

Shit. Shit.

What had he missed?

Asta wasn’t here. Had she been contacted? Had she given them away? Where the hell was she?

Doesn’t matter.

He took the stairs three at a time, the bedroom door slamming against the wall as he blasted in.

Freya jolted upright, her hair askew, blinking in confusion. “What?—”

He grabbed her boots and tossed them onto the bed. “Put these on.”

She pushed back the comforter, still dazed, as he crossed the room to the window. Standing behind the drape, he used the barrel of his gun to widen the gap. From here, he had a bird’s-eye view of the land below.

Dark shapes moved, darting between cover. Taking positions.

Fuck.

“Abe?”

He spun. Freya still didn’t have her boots on.

“I said get your boots on. They’ve found us.”

“What? No.”

He raised his voice. “Freya.”

Her expression pinched, but she hurriedly laced up her boots while he collected their few possessions from around the room. He stuffed Freya’s spare clothes into the backpack, adding a water bottle he’d picked up from the kitchen. He grabbed hold of her hand. “Come on.”

She followed him down the stairs, her breath coming in quick shallow pants. At the bottom, Abe spun around, gripping her chin to make her look at him.

“You do as I say, and we’ll get out of here safely. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “What about Asta? Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t say anymore. Was Asta being gone and their discovery a coincidence?

“She wouldn’t give us up. I know her.”

“Her Land Rover is gone.” The words tasted bitter. He’d been so careful, covered their tracks. There was only one explanation that made sense, and he didn’t want to voice it. “Maybe she thought it was better if we handed ourselves in.” The admission felt like a failure. If it was true, he’d failed in his duty to Freya to spot that Asta was a weak link.

“That can’t be it. Asta’s like a mother to me.” She rested her gaze on him. “She wouldn’t—Abe, I think?—”

He couldn’t help himself. He needed her to be on track. To listen to his every word and command as if her life depended on it—because it did. He pulled her close, his lips crashing against hers. His hand slid to the back of her neck, where the heat of her skin seared his palm. She felt so good, too good. The taste of her hit his system like a shot of adrenaline.

She gasped, her body responding, back arching toward him, pressing herself against his chest.