Page 26 of The Heat is On
The river. Skye had seen it from the ridge, right before they descended. A ribbon winding through a canyon to the west.
“Five miles,” grumbled the redhead. He straightened and wiped his hand across his brow.
“I can leave you right here, Darryl,” March said, and lifted the weapon.
“Take a breath, March,” Rio said and dropped her hand. He held both of his up in surrender. “Just give him a second. It’ll take them hours to get people in to track us. We have time. Just…take it easy.”
Skye had stepped back, into the shade, wiping her hand on her pants. She needed water—she’d left her canteen with her pack. But Archer wore his pack, and now he dropped it to the ground, as if reading her mind, and pulled out a canister.
He handed it to Darryl, who uncapped it and started to drink.
March walked over and took it from him.
“Hey!”
And that’s when Rio turned and looked at her. Just zeroed in on her eyes, a heat in their amber depths that stripped any response from her. He took a step toward her. “I’m going to get you out of this,” he said tightly in a whisper. “Just stay calm and wait for my signal to run.”
She blinked at him.What—?
Maybe her question shone on her face because, “He can’t keep up with you. You’re strong and smart. Keep your wits about you and you’ll make it.”
Right. She nodded, her eyes wide. And his eyes said it again.Trust me.
Yes, okay.
Rio turned back around and grabbed her hand. Gave it a squeeze.
March capped the canister and handed it back to Archer. “Let’s go. And don’t think I’m not watching you, Thorne.”
Thorne.The taller man, the one who bore elements of military in his posture and pensive eyes. His gaze went over March a moment before he moved out in front of them.
March motioned with his weapon for Rio to move and he pulled Skye with him, out into the meadow.
The sun burned down from the sky, a golden eye that followed them across the expanse. A wind scurried down from the mountains, carrying the bite of a glacier in its breath, lifting the heat from her neck. Rio jogged easily beside her, glancing at her now and again.
They slowed to a fast walk, and Rio looked behind them. Made a face. “Darryl is lagging.”
Why he cared baffled her, but she, too, looked behind her. Spotted March in the back giving the redhead a shove. Darryl fell onto the ground, and March stopped over him.
“Get up!” March kicked him.
“Don’t run yet,” Rio said and let go of her hand, jogging back to March.
Don’t run? Because now felt likeexactlythe right time—except the forest was still a half mile away, and if March was a decent shot, she’d never make it to cover.
So she didn’t move, watching Rio confront March. She glanced at Archer, standing a little away, and he was watching the entire spectacle with a grim expression.
Sort of reminded her of Bruce Willis waiting for the bad guys to make a mistake. Crazy. He was just as dangerous as the rest of them.
Whatever Rio said—Skye didn’t catch it—made March shake his head, but he lowered his gun and let Rio haul Darryl to his feet.
Rio stalked back to Skye, his face tight, and reached out his grip.
She took it like it belonged there. And maybe, right now, it did.
They marched toward the forest on the far edge of the meadow in silence, the wind stirring the grasses. A hawk circled overhead, and she looked back once and spied the smoke from the fire mushrooming. The morning winds had raked it up.
Her team couldn’t fight the fireandlook for her.