Alone like she’d been one too many times in her life.
Alone, and it was okay, because she would fight, and she would win and she would get out of the desert alive.
She would.
A soft shuffle came from her left, and she stilled as a shadow crept toward her. Short. Paunchy. Not Jonas. That’s all she saw. All she needed to see. She launched herself up and toward him, her movements jerky and slower than she’d intended. She realized her mistake too late to correct it, realized her own weakness as she barreled into the man’s chest, bounced backward, landed hard. Breath heaving, she barely managed to dive to the left as the man aimed a pistol in her direction, pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the ground a foot from where she’d been, and she was up again.
Fight or die.
It was as simple as that.
Or, maybe, it was as simple as fight and die.
She didn’t know.
Couldn’t know, but she’d fight, anyway. It’s what she’d done her entire life. No reason to give in now. Jonas was either real or he wasn’t. He was somewhere nearby or not. God would intervene and save Skylar or He wouldn’t.
One way or another, she’d fight.
She threw herself at the man’s legs, knocking him off balance. A bullet whizzed past her shoulder. Then they were on the ground, tumbling into scrub and thorns, Skylar’s overtaxed muscles trembling as she grappled for control of the pistol.
TWO
Shooting a moving target used to be easy.
Not anymore.
Now guns were the enemy; Jonas’s memories of the damage they could do were as ripe and real as the nebulous mass that rolled on the ground ten feet away. Skylar and the man who’d been stalking them through the darkness. Jonas needed to aim his pistol, fire and hit one without hitting the other. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Then he’d achieved sniper status with his band of Shadow Wolf brothers, his aim truer and more accurate than anyone on the team.
That was a lifetime ago, before his loss and his regrets.
He hadn’t been to a target range in four years, hadn’t fired a gun in just a little less than that.
Yet he was standing in the desert, holding his pistol as if he could still do what he’d done during his years as a border patrol agent.
Stop thinking about it, and do something.
Now!
He aimed, fired to the left of the struggling pair, the shot reverberating through the desert. One momentary explosion of sound, one small flash of light and then silence, the two heaving figures frozen in place. Skylar to the right. Her assailant to the left. An easy shot this time.
“Don’t move, buddy. If you do, I guarantee it will be the last move you ever make. Where’s his gun, Grady?”
“He dropped it while we were fighting.” She panted, crawling through spiky desert foliage, coming up with the gun in her hand. “Got it.”
“Good. Come over here. Let’s give our friend a little space.”
“I’d rather give him something else,” she muttered, but she did as Jonas asked.
Surprising.
According to Kane, Skylar often fought for the sake of fighting. Tough and strong is how he’d described her. Jonas had still doubted that he’d find her alive. He had, and there was no going back and saying no as he had a hundred times since his wife and son were murdered.
No. I won’t be coming back to work.
No. I won’t help find the missing hiker, biker, photographer.
No, no, no.
This time he’d said yes. He’d committed to finding Skylar, and now he had to get her out of the desert alive.
“You got here just in time. That guy’s pretty strong,” she huffed, and he frowned.
“And you’re pretty weak. I thought you were going to stay where I left you.”
“I’m not the kind of gal who waits around for the cavalry to arrive. I’m surprised Kane didn’t mention that while he was filling you in on my stubborn determination and charming nature.” She started toward the perp, and Jonas tugged her back.
“He did. This time, though, the cavalry is here, and you are going to wait. I’ll handle our perp.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue, just approached the gunman the way he’d done countless others, adrenaline pumping, gun drawn, all his focus on the potential threat.
“Face down. Keep your hands where I can see them.” He issued the order, and then patted the prone man, found no other weapons. “He’s clean.”
“Let me go. You got no cause to do this to me.”
“No cause? You tried to kill me.” Skylar moved closer, crouched down beside the man, pressed the gun to his temple. “How about you tell me why?”
“There’s nothing to tell. If I’d tried to kill you, you’d be dead.” The man spat, his face pressed to the ground, his body still.
Jonas moved in, yanked him up by the arm as much to get him away from Skylar’s gun as anything else. “How many people are with you?”
“Who said there’s anyone with me?” His voice had a raspy smoker’s edge, his braided hair falling over narrow shoulders. Old. Frailer than Jonas expected.
“How about we don’t play games, old man? I saw your fire last night and the night before. You’ve been following me for a couple of days, and you’re not alone. I want to know who is with you, and I want to know why you’re after Skylar.”
“I’m not after anyone. I’m out mindin’ my own business, enjoyin’ the desert. Nothin’ wrong with that, is there?” He shifted, the subtle movement putting Jonas on edge. The desert had gone silent, the stillness more telling than any words the perp could have spoken.
“I think we’d better get out of here.” He grabbed Skylar’s hand, pulled her away from the old man.
“We can’t just let him go. He tried to kill me.” She pulled back, but he didn’t release his hold.
“I want to survive the night. I want you to survive. If that means he escapes, so be it.”
“But—”
“He’s not alone, Grady. His friends could be anywhere, and I’m not willing to wait around for them to show up.” Not only did he not want to wait around for them to show up, but he wanted to put as much distance between them and the perp as he could as quickly as he could.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how fast Skylar could move, how long she could keep going.
“I still think we should take him with us. I want answers. He’s the only way to get them.”
“Getting them won’t do you any good if you’re dead.”
“I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.”
“Most people aren’t.”
Gabriella hadn’t been.
And Jonas hadn’t been planning to lose her.
He shoved the thought aside, shoved aside the grief that went with it. He needed to