Page 31 of The Heat is On

He glanced at Archer, who was finishing off the other MRE, sitting on a stump. He reminded Rio a little of the detective who’d spoken up for him at the trial. No nonsense, but compassionate.

Especially when Archer looked up and met Rio’s eyes, then glanced at Skye. He tilted his head to the side, as if suggesting…

Yes. If there was ever a time to run, it was now, deep into the shadows of the woods, with night descending. March would be torn between the truck and his captives.

He’d noticed that Thorne might be thinking the same thing, because he had leaned away from the Bronco, an eye on March.

Rio’s gut pinpointed the man as former military.

Which meant he could take care of himself. As could Archer. As for Darryl, well—Rio’s face still hurt where the man hit him.

Rio’s hand tightened on Skye’s, quick. “We’re going to run.”

She shot him a look, something of fear in it.

“Stay with me. Nothing will happen to you as long as you’re with me.”

March glanced their direction, and Rio let her hand go.

Behind him, fire lit a trail through the twilight as a torch arched into the night, almost in slow motion. It spit out flames as it landed in the piney loam beyond the Bronco, the resin fueling a quick inferno.

The torch had come from the woodpile. March guessed the same and leveled his gun at the firewood.

Rio grabbed Skye, yanking her to her feet. “Now!”

Except that’s when the US marshal leaped from a trio of birch some twenty feet away from the pile, double gripping her gun. “March. Put the gun down.”

Stevie?

March whirled around and sent a shot at the woman.

She dove into the earth.

Skye screamed.

And Rio wasn’t sticking around.

He launched himself off the porch, Skye’s hand in his grip, and skidded away from the house, opposite the truck. Skye kept up, nearly passing him.

Good girl.

The marshal might have screamed at him to stop, but Rio didn’t even slow. He plunged into the woods, running hard, slapping away brush, branches, nearly tripping over downed, rotted trees.

Behind him, more shots reported.

He could care less about Darryl. Sorry, but—

“Rio—stop.Stop!”

Skye yanked him hard, and he stopped, whirling around.

“We gotta go!”

“I think that’s Tucker back there. I heard his name!”

He just stared at her. “No—no. Listen—no. March is a murderer and a rapist. And…I’m not letting what happened to Aggie happen to you.”

“Aggie. Your sister.”