Shadow Hawk. Jill Shalvis

      She passed no one, and not for the first time felt unnerved by that fact. How was the place so utterly deserted? None of it made any sense.

      Unless.

      Oh, God. Unless it had been a setup from the start. At the realization, her feet faltered, and she slipped on the rocky terrain but caught herself in time on a tree only twenty feet from the barn. Abby wanted so badly to wake up, to know that she wasn’t losing her mind.

      She thought she knew Hawk, and sometimes she’d even felt as if he knew her, which was exceptionally crazy because she’d never let him in at all. But, God, the thought of him being a bad guy was like a knife to the gut.

      Again her cell phone vibrated. She flipped it open.

      “Where are you?” Watkins demanded.

      “I’m—”

      “I know, I’ve handled it,” he said.

      Abby went absolutely still. “What?”

      “Nothing, talking into my radio.

      Wait—radio? He was talking into his radio? But the radios were down. And now her heart was in her throat. I’ve handled it…those three words brought her directly back to another raid, and another extremely bad time.

      They’d been the words Gaines had spoken before she’d gone in that day, and then later, she’d heard those words from the men who’d held her. They’d spoken the words handled it into a radio to some unseen boss.

      No. Had to be coincidental. Of course it was.

      “Where are you?” Watkins asked tensely. “Why the hell did you leave the safety of the van? I need you to get back to the safety of the van, Abby. Do you copy?”

      She opened her mouth to answer him but stopped herself.

      Not saying a word was stepping over a line, a big one, but she didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Because who the hell was the bad guy here? Hawk?

      Or…Watkins?

      God, she was losing it.

      “Abby?”

      Yeah. That was her. But instead of responding, she quietly shut her phone and kept hugging the tree because suddenly her legs didn’t want to hold her.

      She’d seen Hawk shoot Gaines. Hawk, gun in his hand, shoot point-blank. That made it him.

       Right?

      Her brain hurt, physically hurt. She couldn’t process it all, or make sense of it. Who to trust? Knowing she had only herself, she pushed away from the tree and ran—

      And then tripped over…oh, God…a man sprawled on the ground, far too close to the flickering flames. “Elliot—” Dropping to her knees, Abby set her hands on his back and realized her mistake instantly.

      This body was one solid muscle. With a moan, he rolled to his back, keeping his eyes closed beneath dark lashes and the straight dark lines of his eyebrows, which were furrowed together.

      Hawk.

      4

      ABBY CROUCHED OVER Hawk and checked for a pulse, which he had. Relieved, she got to her feet and peered through the trees that were providing them cover. Out there she could see the barn. The side door was open, fire ripping outward, drawn by the cold, chilly oxygen. Beyond them, she could see…oh, God…boxes and boxes of ammo. She ran back to Hawk. “Hawk.”

      “Present.”

      She had no idea whose side he was on, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to leave him here to die. “Get up.”

      “Sure.” But he didn’t move. And in spite of herself, everything within her softened. It was nothing personal, she tended to soften for injured animals and wayward children, too. It helped that he didn’t look like his usual strong, capable self all sprawled on the ground. “That was a direct order.”

      “I’m hearing ya.”

      She put her hand on his jaw and looked at his mouth, which was usually curved in amusement, at her, at himself, at life. But at the moment, it was tight. Grim. Reflecting pain. She never thought she’d miss that smile, but she did. “Come on, get up, you cocky, smug SOB.”

      He lifted his head, and she found herself leveled flat by his soft brown eyes that were so in contrast to his definitively unsoft demeanor. Even flat on his back, he looked lean and angular and startlingly attractive as that mouth curved slightly. “Abby.”

      How, while completely surrounded by such utter chaos, she could feel an odd zing, she had no idea. But just looking at him made her feel dangerously feminine. “Where’s Gaines?” she asked.

      Hawk’s short, almost buzzed hair was dusted with dirt and ash and stood straight up, revealing his hairline and a nasty cut, oozing blood. “In hell,” he answered, voice rusty. “If there’s any justice.”

      Oh, God. So it was true. Regret, and a huge sadness welled inside her. Once Gaines had saved her. Picked up the broken pieces and helped her put herself back together again. And she hadn’t been able to return the favor. “So he’s—”

      “Not yet, he’s not.” His face hardened, his eyes so intense on hers that she’d have fallen to her knees if she hadn’t already been there.

      “I saw you shoot him,” she said.

      “Did you?” He grimaced. “Trust me—”

      “Are you kidding?” Abby managed a laugh. He hadn’t even tried to deny it. “After what I saw tonight, I should trust a rat’s ass over you.”

      “Look, whatever you’re thinking, you’ve got it wrong.” His gaze shifted past her as he carefully scanned the immediate area, making her shiver at the danger sparking from his eyes. “He set this whole game up tonight.”

      Okay, clearly he was delusional, but she still had to get him away from the flames. “What hurts?”

      His laugh was short and harsh. “Only every fucking inch.”

      Well, that they could deal with. “Get up.”

      “Any minute now, I swear.” He closed his eyes. “So, a cocky, smug SOB? Really?”

      “Come on, Hawk.” He might be eyeing the flames licking at them with an eerie calm, but she was not. She hoped like hell Elliot had indeed gotten out. “Get up!”

      He shifted to do just that. “Check our sixes.”

      “What?”

      “Our asses, Ab. Make sure we’re not being made. Gaines has a crew out here tonight, somewhere. They’re setting explosions and making merry.”

      She added paranoid to the list. Which, given his situation, made sense. “I’ve got your damn ass, Hawk.” Fine as it was. Crawling around behind him, she slid her arms beneath his, wrapping them around his chest so that she could pull him to safety.

      “Ah, that’s so sweet,” he murmured. “But now’s not a good time for me.”

      She grated her teeth. This. This was one reason why she’d stayed her distance. The man exuded raw sex appeal. Only problem? He knew it. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She tugged. “Do you have to be so big?”

      Though his eyes remained closed, he flashed a smile straight out of her very secret fantasies—pure wicked, mischievous promise. “You don’t know the half of it.”

      Okay, if she ever got him out of here, she was going to kill him herself.

      “You smell pretty,” he whispered.

      Her gaze swiveled back to his, but his eyes were still closed.

      “You always smell pretty…”

      “You’re