Page 28 of The Heat is On

“So, maybe you have two hostages,” Archer said quietly.

Thorne had come back, stood outside the ring. For a quiet man, he said a lot with those clenched fists. She wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t grab March by the throat.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“I don’t need two hostages,” March snapped. “I don’t needanyhostages.”

“You need me,” Rio said quietly. “Trust me, the US marshals want me back.”

Silence, and even Skye’s heart thudded, a fist against her ribs.

Why?What could he have done that might beworsethan March?

“Get off me, man,” Rio growled.

March must have known something because he got up, breathing hard. His nose bled, too, and he wiped a sleeve across it.

Rio leaned up on his hands and knees, blood dripping from his nose, breathing hard. The look he gave Skye was so wretched her gut twisted.

He’d nearly gotten killed again—for her?

What kind of prisoner was he?

Archer had dropped his pack and now came over holding a bandanna. Shoved it in her hands. Met her eyes. “Sorry.”

Huh?

But she ignored it and got Rio sitting up, the bandanna against his nose. He tipped his head forward and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Only then did she notice the boulder Darryl held in his grip. His eyes blazed.

“Darryl hit you?” she asked Rio in a low tone.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes reaching hers. He let out a breath, his jaw tightening.

“Let’s go,” March snapped.

She put a hand under Rio’s arm and helped him to his feet.

Took his hand.

And this time he hung on, as if she might be the one saving his life.

She didn’t know what to do with that as they trudged in front of March, following Archer, Darryl, and Thorne into the wild.

Five

Eugene March was going to kill Skye. Rio read it in the man’s eyes, the way he followed her as they trekked through the forest. The way he grabbed her arm when they reached the tiny cabin nestled in an alcove cut from the woods, dragged her close, and snarled a warning in her ear.

Don’t run.

It had slid a cold finger of terror down Rio’s spine, and told him one thing. He had to get her away, even if he had to abandon Darryl and flee with her.

“Is it broken?” Skye knelt in front of him on the small porch, examining his nose, the welt swelling on his jaw.

“No,” Rio said, catching her hand. He couldn’t look at her, almost thankful for the pain.

It would have worked. He’d had a hand on March’s gun, would have at least slowed him down enough for Skye to escape.