Chapter Eleven

Luke’s gun was tucked in the back waistband of his jeans. This guy would definitely get a shot off if he went for it, especially slowed down by his shoulder.

He raised his hands. “Easy.”

“Where’s the woman?” The man took a step closer.

Luke fought not to let his relief be seen. If they were still looking for Claire, then that meant they didn’t have her. Yet.

“What woman?” Maybe feigning innocence would buy him some time.

The guy stepped closer. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I just fell asleep in the library. The place is on fire, man.”

He tried to check his peripheral vision for any sign of Claire. Was she safe? She wouldn’t have just left him there. Maybe she’d run off after Khan.

The guy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who you are or how you got involved with her, but she’s guilty of murder. If you tell me where she is, we’ll make sure she’s brought to justice before she hurts anyone else. You don’t have to get hurt. Nobody else needs to get hurt.”

The guy kept his weapon steady and trained on Luke. He was definitely a professional.

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.” Luke continued his charade, spoke slowly and kept his hands up. “I just want to get away from this burning building.”

“If you don’t know who or where she is, then you’re not of any use to us. Might as well get rid of you now.”

So much for them being the good guys.

The man kept his gun trained on Luke as he brought his walkie-talkie up with his other hand. “This is Brickman. Tell Kenneth I’ve got—”

With a sickening thud, Brickman crumpled. His gun hit the ground, followed by his face.

Right behind where he’d just been standing, Claire stood, holding up the wooden skateboard she’d just used to clobber the guy. “Is he dead?” Poking his head around Claire’s legs, Khan meowed.

Luke hauled himself to his feet, pain shooting through his shoulder. “No. You knocked him out.” He nudged Brickman with his foot just to make sure. The jerk groaned incoherently.

“Are you okay?” She dropped the skateboard. “I heard him coming around the corner and had to hide. I didn’t just leave you.”

He forced a smile. “I never thought that. You did the smart thing. Now we need to get out of here before they come looking for Brickman.”

He grabbed her hand and began to pull her toward the bushes. She immediately yanked her hand free. “Luke. Oh my gosh. You’re covered in blood!”

He grimaced. “I cut my shoulder going through the window. I’m okay. We’ve got to go.”

A blue light flashed across Claire’s face from a police car. One vehicle was just pulling into the library’s front parking lot, but the sirens screaming through the night promised that more first responders were on their way.

She was still staring at his shoulder. “You’re hurt bad,” she whispered.

He would have to suck it up—Ballard’s men were everywhere. “Survive now. Tend to the wounds later.”

She nodded. Taking her hand with his good one, they darted for the few trees near the playground on the side of the blazing building. Khan stayed right with them.

They needed to get away from here.

“I don’t think we can get directly to the truck,” he muttered with a curse. There were too many of Ballard’s men and now too many first responders.

“We should go that way.” She pointed toward the back parking lot. “That leads farther into town, which means more places to hide.”

He glanced back at the line of tall, manicured bushes behind the library’s back lot. It would provide a perfect escape, but he was less familiar with that area and it was in the opposite direction of the truck. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes. I came back to this area for my last foster family in high school. We can hide until it’s clear, then circle back.”

More lights, both red and blue, flashed against the greenery. The fire department had arrived out front.

But another cop car had pulled up in the back lot. Damn it. They’d have to be doubly careful now—avoiding Ballard’s men and the police.

They crept along, staying in the shadows. Organized chaos was evident in the front with the fire department concentrating on the burning building. Hopefully nobody would be paying much attention back here.

He nudged Claire forward through a break in the bushes. Turning sideways to fit, he scooted through, wincing when the sharp leaves scraped his shoulder.

Claire’s gasp turned his blood cold.

One of Ballard’s men was there waiting, his weapon drawn.

The man gave them a cocky smile. “I knew you two were still around here somewhere. Count yourself lucky. Bullet is a better way to die than fire.”

A helpless rage swallowed Luke. He wouldn’t even be able to get in front of Claire to shield her.

“Freeze!”

The command came from the parking lot a few yards to the side of Ballard’s man. He kept his gun trained on Claire as he tilted his head to the side to talk to the cop.

“Officer—Thank goodness! I’ve got that fugitive that’s been on the TV. She has a gun, be careful!”

Then, without hesitation, Ballard’s man spun and shot the cop.

Luke leaped for the guy, pushing Claire out of the way. The man had shot that cop and there was no doubt that Luke and Claire were next on his list.

The sharp edge of his palm came down hard on the inside of the man’s elbow. The stranger’s hold slackened and the gun fell to the ground.

He was quick, though. Trained. A fist came flying toward Luke’s face.

A swift block and ignoring the screaming pain from his shoulder, Luke nailed his opponent with an uppercut. The man staggered back. Luke followed, hitting him with a right hook.

The punches had the intended effect—Ballard’s man hit the ground, knocked out cold.

But the fight had taken a toll on Luke, too. Hot, sticky blood dripped down his hand. It had been a bad idea to strike with that arm. He drew a deep breath, trying to stop his head from spinning. A tug on his hand brought him back to his senses.

Claire.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” No. He needed to sit down. Needed to get this bleeding under control. Needed to take a moment and regroup.

And maybe he would’ve if it was just him on his own. But he couldn’t. He had to get Claire to safety.

“Is that policeman...?”

“Dead? I don’t know. But we can’t wait and help him, not if we want to get away.”

He took out his burner phone. It wouldn’t be much use any longer anyway, now that he’d used it to call Brax. He dialed 9-1-1 again. As soon as the responder picked up, he spoke.

“Officer down behind the Wars Hill library. He’s been shot.”

He ended the call immediately before the dispatcher could ask questions and grabbed Claire’s hand. It would be only moments before the 9-1-1 dispatch notified the police already on the scene here. Calling might have been a mistake, but if there was anything that could be done to save that cop, Luke had to take that chance. Hopefully, it would be enough.

But he and Claire had to get out now .

They moved slower along the bushes toward the street on the east side of the building. Luke didn’t want to take a chance on stumbling into another one of Ballard’s men. The odds of him winning a second fight in his shape were slim.

And Claire would be unprotected.

But if they kept moving this slowly, they might get caught anyway. Luke was slowing them down. Running was not an option. The way the night was spinning, fast walking was barely an option.

He squeezed her hand as they passed by the alleyway. They just needed to make it a few more blocks.

But he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to.

“You need to run. Leave me behind. Get farther into the main section of town. You know your way around, you can hide.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. I don’t think I’m going to make it much farther.”

They only needed to go another mile or so, but that seemed impossible. Ten more steps seemed impossible.

She slipped her arm around his waist, tucking herself under his good shoulder. “Lean on me. Just take it one step at a time.”

“Go without me.”

“You’re wasting time and energy arguing, Patterson. I’m not leaving you, so we either both stay here or we both go.”

He almost smiled at her bossy tone and took a step forward. And another.

Praying none of Ballard’s men would find them, he kept moving forward. Left down a dark block. Right down a second alleyway. His legs weakened. His arm burned like hell. He couldn’t stop, though. Wouldn’t let anything happen to Claire. Kitten .

Were they far enough? He had no idea where they were—walking along some empty street. Had no idea how much time had passed since they left the library. Five minutes? An hour? Ten years?

He had to stop. He leaned heavily with his good shoulder against a parked semitruck that shielded them from anyone on the street.

“You keep going.” The words sounded raspy, breathless, not like his voice at all.

She ignored his statement, tentatively touched his shoulder, making him wince. “It looks bad.”

“It’s okay.” A lie, but what else could he say?

All he needed was a few minutes. A place to rest until he regained his strength.

He couldn’t contact his brothers—he’d had to dump the burner phone. They couldn’t make it back to the truck.

Think, Luke. Think.

He couldn’t. He slid to the ground.

It felt so damn good to sit. He closed his eyes. One second of rest. Maybe two...

Something fluffy brushed against his chest. Khan’s tail.

Good doggy.

“Bandage it... Shirt is dirty...”

Claire’s voice went in and out, impossible to follow.

“We need to go.” Planting his palm against the cold metal of the truck, he pushed himself to standing.

And promptly collapsed toward the concrete, the world spinning uncontrollably around him.