Page 29 of The Heat is On
Had Darryl not surprised him with the smash to the face, stunning him, tilting Rio’s world sideways. Darryl might have knocked him clean out of the way. Rio found himself face down on the ground, March’s knee in his back.
Then the shot. It had shaken Rio through, turned him cold, and he’d wanted to swear when Skye appeared, arms high.I’m coming back.
No—no!
She had crouched in front of him, such concern in her eyes, he felt ill. He’d nearly offered up the truth, right then, to keep her alive. To bargain for her freedom.
I’m FBI.
It had lurched into his throat, settled there, threatening to spill out. Would have, had Archer not talked temporary calm into March.
They’d finally happened upon a hunting cabin, a two-room shack that seemed recently used, but currently—thank You, God—uninhabited. A pair of graying antlers hung over the unlocked door.
Archer must have rooted through the cupboards, because he’d found a couple MREs and brought them out to the porch where Skye and Rio sat.
Skye shook her head to the offered supper, and Rio didn’t blame her. His guts were in a knot too.
March gulped one down, while sending Darryl and Thorne to coax to life a dirty red-striped Bronco stalled in the yard. Across the yard, a shed protected a drying rack of antlers and a bear skin. Rio’s gaze settled briefly on a four-wheeler that sat in the shadows, but he dismissed it. It probably wouldn’t even start.
The place looked like a hideout where a fugitive like March might hole up, and Rio thought he might be considering it, if Darryl wasn’t so determined to get the Bronco running.
“Listen. I need to talk to you. March is dangerous. And the next time I tell you to run, do not come back. No matter what you hear. You are not to rescue me.”
She looked at him, a little stripped. “But—”
“No buts. And if he grabs you around the neck again, I want you to tuck your head down, protect your neck. And then make a fist and swing your free hand back right into the, um, soft tissue.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Ow.”
“That’s the point. He’ll freak out, let go, and you run. And don’t look back.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He glanced at March. Shook his head. “Just because.”
A few strands of hair had fallen from her braid, now disheveled and dirty. “I can’t believe we’ve been on the run for a whole day and no one has found us.”
“They will, Skye.”
“You sound almost like youhopethe US marshals will swarm in—”
He looked away. Gave a tiny nod. “As long as no one gets hurt.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry my plan didn’t work.”
“Darryl nearly broke your nose.”
He lifted a shoulder.
“Okay, what’s with you—you’re the one who suggested I would be a great hostage.”
He cut his gaze to her then because the word became a fist in his chest. “I was trying to keep you alive.”
She frowned at him. “Thanks. I think.” She drew in her breath. “Are you sure you’re really a criminal?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. “Yeah. I’m definitely a criminal, Skye.”
Her mouth tightened, and she pushed her hands between her knees. Looked at the ground. “Part of that long, sad story?”
He considered her, the tan that spread across her face, the red that touched her nose. She’d been a trooper today and frankly, braver than he expected. But she was a smokejumper, and that took real courage, so maybe she wasn’t quite as delicate as…