Hard Target. Barb Han

this.” A shiny metal object was being thrust at her through the thick wall of smoke separating her from the agent.

      Reed’s face was covered in ashes and worry lines. Blood dripped down his cheek from a cut on his forehead. There was compassion in his clear brown eyes and what appeared to be fear.

      She took the offering, a knife.

      “Cut yourself free.” His arms cradled her shoulders.

      “Okay.” She shot him a scared look.

      “I’ll catch you. I won’t let you get hurt.”

      Her gaze widened at the figure moving toward them. “Behind you.”

      The agent turned and fired his weapon.

      She worked the knife against the fabric, wanting to be ready, knowing they were out of time.

      Sirens split the air.

      Reed turned his attention back to her as soon as the man disappeared. “I’m ready. Go.”

      The last patch of thread cut easily. Emily didn’t want to think about how good his hands felt on her as he pulled her from the burning Jeep across the hard, unforgiving earth. Or how nice it was to have someone in her corner.

      The head of the House believed placing labels on people degraded them, so he simply called her girl. Her mom soon followed his lead.

      Growing up in a house full of free love and short on anything meaningful, like her mother’s laughter, had made Emily wary and distrustful of people. Watching her mom adopt the long hair and threadbare clothes everyone in the House wore made Emily feel even more distanced from everything familiar.

      In the twelve years Emily had lived there, her mom had six children by various housemates. It had been like living in a time warp. Apparently, the label “Father” was also degrading because no one stepped up to help care for the little ones, save for Emily. She’d taken care of the children until one of the men had decided that at seventeen she was old enough to learn about free love. She’d fought back, escaped and then ran.

      Emily had learned quickly the outside world could be harsh, too.

      With no friends on the streets, she’d had to fight off men who confused her homelessness for prostitution. Her first stroke of luck had come when she found a flier for a shelter that handed out free breakfast. A worker there had told her about the nearby shelter for teens. For the first time since leaving Texas as a child, Emily had her own room.

      All her life savings, money she’d made from her job at the local movie theater, was hidden in the House. Emily had saved every penny. Needing a fresh start, she’d slipped into the House, took her life savings and then bought a bus ticket to Dallas, where she could return home and put down roots.

      By the time she’d finished a few college courses and gotten a decent job, her half siblings had scattered across the country, and she heard from her mother mostly when she needed something.

      No matter how honest and pure the agent looked, Emily knew not to get too comfortable.

      Feeling vulnerable out in the open, she searched for the men. Where were they?

      She glanced around, half expecting more gunfire. Instead, EMTs ran toward them and all she could hear was the glorious thunder of their footsteps.

      But, where was Reed?

      Then she saw him. He lay flat on his back and her chest squeezed when she saw how much blood soaked his shirt. One set of EMTs rushed to him, blocking her view. Another went to work on her as firemen put out the blaze.

      The cavalry had arrived.

      But how long before Dueño’s men returned to finish the job?

      Emily needed a plan.

      Heaven knew she could never rely on her mother. The woman had shattered when Emily’s father left. Even then, Emily knew she needed to help her mother. The woman couldn’t do much for herself in the broken state she was in. When she’d finally forced herself out of bed, a neighbor introduced her to “a new way of thinking.”

      It wasn’t long before Emily’s mom packed the pair of them up and moved to California to live in the House. Emily had been excited about the promise of perpetual sunshine, but her enthusiasm was short-lived when she figured out no one ever left the grounds except in groups to shop for food.

      Which was why she couldn’t afford to rely on the agent much longer. Especially not the way he stirred confusing feelings inside her that had no business surfacing. She knew where that would end up.

      * * *

      REED STRIPPED OFF the oxygen mask covering his face. “I’m fine.”

      “Can you tell me what day it is?” the young EMT asked.

      “Monday. And I know I’ve been in an accident. I was forced off the road by another vehicle. I have to call local police to file a report.” He reached for his phone, needing an excuse to step away and make eye contact with Emily. He wanted to know she’d be okay. Men were huddled around her, working on her. Reed tamped down the unexpected jolt of anxiety tensing his shoulders. “What’s going on with my witness? She’ll be okay, right?”

      “We’ll know in a few minutes.”

      Not good enough. Reed had to know now. He pushed off the back of the truck.

      The EMT stepped in front of Reed. “Sir, that’s not a good idea.”

      “Why not? Is she hurt badly?” The young guy was big, worked out, but Reed had no doubts he could take the guy down if necessary. Reed’s hands fisted. His jaw muscle twitched.

      “The others are working on her. I’m talking about you. I’d like to finish my exam, if that’s okay.”

      The guy seemed to know Reed could take him down in a heartbeat. He reminded himself to stay cool. The EMT was only doing his job. No point in making it any harder for him.

      Reed fished his wallet out of his pocket and produced his identification. “Name’s Reed Campbell. I’m a Border Patrol agent. I have two brothers and two sisters. It’s Monday at...” He checked his watch. “Four o’clock.”

      “Good. I think it’s safe to say you didn’t suffer a concussion. Will you let me patch up your forehead before you go, and let me take a look at what’s causing all that blood on your shirt?” the young guy asked, resigned.

      “Can’t hurt.” He sat still long enough for his gashes to be cleaned and bandaged.

      “I still think it’s a good idea for you to go to the hospital.”

      “I plan to.” His gaze fixed on the team working on Emily.

      “As a patient.”

      “I promise to get checked out if I take a turn for the worse.”

      “No changing your mind?”

      “I appreciate all you’re doing for me, but I’m more worried about her.”

      Reluctantly, the EMT produced papers. “Then I need your autograph on these. They say you received basic treatment at the scene and refused to be taken in for further medical evaluation.”

      Reed took them and signed off, uneasy that Emily was still surrounded by a busy team of workers. If someone on the inside of his agency was helping Dueño, Reed couldn’t chance his phone being hacked. His best bet was to play it cool with the EMT and pretend his had taken a hit. “Any chance I can borrow your phone? Mine’s a casualty of the wreck, and I need to check in with my boss.”

      The worker nodded, handing over his cell.

      They needed transportation, and Reed trusted a handful of people right now—most of whom shared his last name. His brothers were in North Texas, too far to catch a ride. His boss was his best bet. After being shot in the line of duty, Reed knew he could trust Gil. And with any luck, no one would be listening