Security Detail. Lisa Phillips

he let off the gas. Metal scraped against metal. The tires caught on the road again, and he put his foot down. He drove like this was a mental exercise—a game of chess. They were either the king or simply pawns expendable in the grand scheme of the game. Kayla had never liked chess. She was much better with five-thousand-piece puzzles.

      What was in Conner’s head? He had to have a plan. He was a Secret Service agent. Only this threat was against both of them—not just her. Kayla flipped the glove box open to see if there was a gun. It was stuffed with papers, and took two tries to get it closed again.

      “You don’t need a weapon.”

      “What about a phone? Mine is dead, remember? Give me yours and I’ll call for help.”

      He shifted and dug it out of his jeans pocket.

      “What’s your handler under in your contacts?” Locked. “Wait...first give me your passcode.”

      “Call 911, Kayla.”

      She’d rather have a team of trained Secret Service agents, not the sheriff. Though the sheriff could probably get here faster. She’d seen the Secret Service in action so many times, but she hadn’t wanted them there to protect her earlier. Not when it had been only her in danger. They were way past that now. For the second time that night, their lives were at risk.

      Kayla pushed aside the questions that swirled in her mind—questions about why his phone was off-limits to her—and used the emergency feature to call for help.

      No ringing sound.

      She looked at the screen. Had the call connect—

      Slam.

      The truck lurched and Kayla dropped the phone. She needed two hands to hold on, or the next time they were hit, she’d slide out of her seat belt.

      Kayla had no intention of dying tonight.

      She checked behind them. The truck was neck and neck with them, and she could see a man inside. “It’s not teenagers.” She reached down and snapped up the phone. The call was still connected. “Hello?” Nothing. She tapped the screen. “Why is this thing not working?”

      Conner gripped the wheel. “It’s Andis’s lieutenant. Manny.”

      “Manny.” The man looked mean and was dressed...kind of the way Conner was. “So you know who he—Wait. That’s who was in my hallway, wasn’t it?” When Conner didn’t answer, she said, “Can’t you tell him to back off?”

      “He’s not going to back off. And no, it was one of his buddies earlier. He was probably outside. Now he’s too busy trying to run us off the road so he can shoot us,” he said through gritted teeth. “Manny must have followed us from your office and waited until now to try again.”

      “Give me your gun. I’ll shoot out the window and get him to back off.” The truck was on Conner’s side, but she could make it work.

      He didn’t. “You’re not shooting a gun right by my face. And you aren’t going to hang out the window.”

      Okay, so she hadn’t thought it through all the way. What was wrong with winging it? This was a crazy situation. “So you shoot at him then.”

      “That’s the best idea I’ve heard so far.” He pulled his gun out. “Grab the wheel.”

      Kayla’s hand darted out and she took hold of the steering wheel. He rolled the window down with the handle and air blew in. It dried out her contacts so that she had to blink moisture back over her eyes. Kayla held her breath as Conner fired off shot after shot.

      The boom was so loud. It had been forever since she’d practiced with a weapon she’d forgotten it was that loud.

      “Kayla!”

      She glanced out the front window of the truck. The road bent to the left. She pushed the wheel toward Conner’s door and they careened around the corner so fast the truck started to tip over.

      Conner pulled his hand back in and the other vehicle backed off. Conner’s truck scraped Manny’s all down the side. He grabbed the wheel and she let go. But Manny didn’t leave them alone. The truck angled into the back left side and clipped them.

      Conner fought the spin, both hands on the wheel. The old truck shuddered and lost traction and they started to slide. Kayla screamed. She scrabbled around by her feet for the phone.

      The truck was being pushed, forced off the road.

      “He’s going to kill us!” That was the point, but she didn’t have to like it. They were going to die. The other truck would ram them one too many times and they’d flip. Conner’s truck would crumple under the impact—with Conner and Kayla inside. There probably weren’t even any air bags.

      The sheriff would find them off the road, truck upside down. Bleeding. Dead.

      Kayla tried to rein in her tendency to look at the catastrophic outcome first, but it was too hard. Things were bad. Really, really bad. They probably weren’t going to make it. She was going to die in a truck with Conner Thorne and he’d never even know how much she’d cared for him for so long.

      He’d been the light in her days. When she’d felt alone, he was in all the sweet memories she’d drawn up. On those dark days when she’d needed to feel the peace his presence brought, thinking of him had comforted her. Sure, he’d frustrated her to no end, and he’d never called. But he’d been it for her. She’d tried to date other guys, but no one had ever come close to even the dream of what could have been with him. All that stuff about wanting someone who didn’t know her was baloney. She wasn’t even looking for anyone else.

      The truck jerked and her forearm slammed down on the dash. Kayla screamed and lost her hold on the phone. It fell down by her feet and slid under the seat. Help. God, help us.

      The truck jerked again, and they spun more. Off the side of the road and down a ravine. The truck hit a dip. Dirt sprayed and they lifted up. Airborne. Stars winked down at her as they rattled around in the cab, trying not to slam heads. Conner’s face hit the steering wheel.

      Kayla gripped the door handle, but it was no use.

      The tree came out of nowhere. The truck slammed into it, and pain exploded through Kayla like a firework.

      * * *

      Conner blinked. He lifted a shaky hand to touch his face. His head pounded like a kick drum, and his hand came back wet with blood from his nose. The truck. He hated this truck anyway. The truck was probably almost totaled now, but he was alive.

      Conner shifted. The movement sent pain shooting through his skull. Kayla was slumped in the corner against the door. Hair had fallen over one side of her face, and blood matted the blond strands against her skin. What breath Conner had left got caught in his throat. She was so pale she almost looked...

      He pressed two fingers to the skin beneath her jaw. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Low but steady. His body sagged and he moved his hand to touch her cheek. “Kayla.” She needed to wake up. She had to open those eyes, those swirling blue depths that made him want to pull her close and draw strength from the way she looked at him. He needed to see her smile. The way her lips curled up and made it feel like the world melted away.

      Conner had been undercover so long, starved for genuine conversation or real affection. Having Kayla here was like an oasis in the desert—but weren’t those always the mirages of weary travelers? Dreams but not real. Just like the relationship he’d never have with Kayla, because he could never confess his feelings to her and keep her safe. This time together was a gift, but it wasn’t their life. And it would be over soon.

      Headlights lit the cab of the truck from behind. Conner glanced one more time at Kayla and then pulled out his gun.

      Manny’s truck stopped beside them, six feet of grass separating the two vehicles. Would he simply roll the window down and shoot them? Conner had to play this the right way, though he figured his cover was shredded now. Manny probably thought