Truth And Consequences. Lenora Worth

so she centered her thoughts on what she’d been taught. Determined to stay alive, she concentrated on her sweet five-month-old baby girl, Shelby. The baby she’d fought so hard to have. Alone. The baby her brother had never heard about because he’d died before she’d found the courage to tell him.

      Whitney would regret for the rest of her life that Lucas would never know his niece. But she would fight for her child’s sake, too.

      She was at her best when she was cornered and alone.

      The man shoved her toward the tumbleweeds and scrub brush that surrounded the scant trees and jutting rocks. “Let’s get this done and over.”

      The train now hissed like a big snake. He was waiting for the train to leave. It would serve as a cover when he shot her. So that meant his friend must have made it off the train without detection.

      Adrenaline pumped a new energy through Whitney’s system. She had to act fast or she’d never see Shelby again.

      She went limp so she could use her body to get away from the man holding her. It worked. Her body fell against the man, causing his hands to go up and giving her enough time to slip a booted foot behind his left calf and bring him down. But on the way down, she heard a grunt and then felt a blur of air rushing by her head. The next thing she knew, the man who’d been holding her let out a yelp of pain and dropped at her feet, his gun sliding over dry dirt and skidding to a stop a few feet away.

      Surprised, she watched in amazement as a now familiar form crashed over the gunman who’d been about to shoot her and held him pinned to the ground.

THREE

      The medic! She’d forgotten all about him. With a grunt, he lifted his right arm and hit the man on the head with a big jagged rock. Which didn’t do much in the way of injuries, so it wouldn’t keep him down long. But it gave David time to get up and Whitney enough time to react. Flipping the man over, she motioned to David, and he helped her control the man on the ground.

      Hunter growled and danced, eyeing her for instructions.

      “Guard,” Whitney ordered as she scrambled up, her breath leaving her body. David helped her, steadying her until she caught her breath and searched for her radio. The dog stood over the moaning man.

      “He’ll bite you if I tell him to,” Whitney informed the man. “It’s up to you, but I strongly suggest you stay still and remain on your stomach.”

      David glanced around and then spotted her gun. He grabbed it and held it on the man, who was now curled up with Hunter hovering over him. “Are you okay?” he asked Whitney.

      She nodded and then reached out to David. “Give me the gun.”

      David looked uncertain and then shook his head. “I’d feel better if you get him cuffed.”

      Whitney debated and then nodded while she leaned over the suspect. “Now it’s your turn to stay still, or I will let my partner here tear you to shreds.”

      Panic poured off the criminal on the ground. His eyes widened in fear, his gaze darting here and there. “My partner will be here soon.”

      “No, he won’t,” David said. “I saw him heading the other way about five minutes ago. He left you.”

      And the train was finally leaving the station. Once it was well up the tracks in a fading echo, the desert went quiet. Whitney reached for her cuffs, using her strength to hold the man while she tried to slap the restraints against his wrists.

      But the man on the ground turned desperate. He rolled and came at her with both feet kicking, causing her to flip in the air before she ever got the first cuff secured. Hunter barked and danced while Whitney felt herself sliding on dry rock, her knees and hands burning with heat and friction, the cuffs slipping out of her grip. The criminal and she both reached and grabbed for the handgun he’d lost before, the weapon out of reach between them. Hunter went into frenzied barking while Whitney fought with a person who had twice her strength.

      David grabbed the man and lifted him away before the criminal could get to the gun. This time, David put a booted foot on the man’s chest and held her gun to the man’s head.

      “Don’t even think about it,” David said, his tone deep and full of rage. “I’ll shoot you in the leg and damage you for life. If you doubt me, I can show you which artery I’ll hit. You might bleed to death before help can come.”

      The man spewed out a round of nasty words, but Whitney saw him eyeing David as if he didn’t believe him. She hustled into action, grabbed her lost radio and took her gun back from David.

      She motioned to the man. “On your stomach again.”

      This criminal would not give in. He gave both of them a quick glance and then stared at Hunter before he jumped up, knocked her down again and then sprinted across the rocks with all his might. David threw his body over hers, holding her gun aimed at the man who was now running toward the open tracks.

      Pain shooting up her arms, she commanded Hunter to “Bite,” and then watched the man getting away, Hunter chasing him.

      A black SUV slid up next to the tracks, its tires burning rubber and slinging dirt and rocks. The driver opened the passenger-side door. “Hurry. We’ll take care of this later.”

      The man sped up, but Hunter nipped at his pants and tore part of the left pants leg away before the suspect threw himself inside the vehicle. It took off while he was still climbing inside. Hunter stood with the torn piece of fabric at his feet.

      “Hunter, stay!” Whitney screamed at David, “Let me up!”

      He rolled away, his gaze following the disappearing SUV.

      “Give me my gun!” Whitney lifted herself up and started after them.

      But a strong hand grabbed her and tugged her back.

      David shook his head. “Let’s get out of here,” he said into her ear. “It’s too dangerous.”

      “No,” she said, disbelief making her angry. “I have to go after them. It’s my job, and you’re hindering me from doing it.”

      He held her there, his eyes as rich as dark leather. “They’ll kill you.”

      If he thought that would hold her back, he was mistaken. Whitney pushed up again. Every muscle in her body hurt, and her skin burned with abrasions. “I said, let me go. Now!”

      Hunter sensed she might be in danger and growled, his black eyes centered on David.

      “I don’t like this,” she said. “Hunter’s reacting to my stress. He thinks you’re hurting me.”

      But David wasn’t listening. He glared across the train tracks, watching, waiting, his hand holding her arm. “They’ve stopped. They might be coming back. They’ll ambush you again.”

      Whitney took in a deep breath and called Hunter to come. She didn’t want to agree with the man, but she’d already messed up on so many levels. She couldn’t do this alone. Pushing back anger and frustration, she glared at him.

      “I have to report in,” she said, reaching for her radio as she sank against a rock. After giving the dispatcher her location and a description of the men and the vehicle, she shifted away from David, her body still shaky. “We’ll up the search and the BOLO alert.”

      When she tried to stand, one of her legs buckled. David tucked her weapon into his waistband and then scooped her up into his arms and started walking.

      “Put me down,” Whitney shouted as David carried her through the heavy brush next to the train tracks. He might be tall and lanky, but the man had surprising strength. She should turn her weapon on him.

      But when they heard a vehicle’s engine revving up down the tracks, Whitney looked up and into David’s eyes.

      “They’re