Rogue Protector, page 11
“Just basic field training.” Guiding me over to what looks almost like an old table made out of thick, weathered pieces of stone, he eases me down. “Sit, and keep that foot up while I pack the rest of our stuff. Any time we stop, elevate your ankle, and if the wrap starts to feel tight, if you can feel your pulse around it, you have to tell me immediately. Understand?”
He’s back in full Air Force Major General mode, and though a small part of me bristles against the orders, this is the man he needs to be right now. This is the Austin who’ll keep me safe no matter what. I nod and maneuver my leg up onto the stone. But before he turns away, I reach for his hand and link our fingers. “You saved my life, Austin. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to do anything to put myself in danger ever again if I can help it.”
His eyes darken, and he slides his fingers into my hair and presses a brief, hard kiss to my lips. “Good. Because when we get back to the States, I’m going with you to Edgewater. I want a second date with you, Mikayla. And a third. As many as you’ll give me.”
“I...I want that too.”
Relief flashes in his eyes, and he turns his focus to his backpack. No man has ever made me feel like he does, and a tiny spark of hope catches deep inside. Along with the idea that we just might get that tomorrow we both so desperately want.
Austin
The hike back up the mountain takes hours, and more than once, I sweep Mikayla into my arms and carry her for a few hundred feet just to give her a break. Her expression twists and tightens with every step, though she’s trying damn hard to hide it.
We’ve only spoken the few times we’ve stopped for water or when I’ve insisted she tell me her pain level. She says she’s fine, that it’s not much above a three, but I’d bet my hunting knife she’s closer to a five or six.
The river’s no longer roaring, though it’s still close to overflowing its banks. The bridge is gone, but I think I can get us across safely. Mik’s not going to like it, though. I drop my ruck and pull out the rope.
“What are you doing?” She asks, leaning against a tree twenty feet from the water.
“Something risky,” I mutter, then look up to meet her gaze. Fuck. She’s exhausted, and if she continues to put weight on that ankle much longer, she’s not going to be able to keep going. “I’m rigging up a guide rope between that tree behind you and the one across the river.”
“That’s…you’re going to have to… No. Austin, no.” She wedges the crutch under her arm again and straightens. “We’ll find another way.”
“Any other way across is going to take us at least two more hours. You need a doctor.” Passing the rope around the trunk, I fasten it off in a quick bowline knot, then give it a hard tug to make sure it holds. “I’ve been in rougher waters, sweetheart. And I’ve got the rope. I’m not going to drown.”
“Promise me.” She digs her fingers into my sides, and I wrap my free arm around her and pull her close.
“I promise.” Kissing the furrow between her brows, I let her go, shoulder my pack—and hers—and tie the other end of the rope around my waist.
The water’s warmer than I expect, but after being soaked through last night and caught up in the middle of a windstorm, it’s still a shock. The river bed is slippery as fuck, and I almost go down twice on my way across, but the water doesn’t rise higher than my chest. Good. I’ll be able to get Mikayla across and keep her mostly dry.
When I reach the other side, I roll onto the bank and stare up at the clouds gathering on the horizon. There’s another storm coming. I drop my pack, tie the rope off around the second tree and wade back into the water.
The look on Mikayla’s face when I return to her side makes my heart beat a little too fast. Her brown eyes blaze with emotion, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she says, gesturing to the river.
“You don’t have to. Hold the crutch in your right hand. Lift your left arm and spread your legs a little. You’re going on my shoulders.”
“What?” Her voice rises half an octave, and she shakes her head. “No. You’re not…you can’t.”
“It’s the only way I can keep you mostly dry. It’s going to feel weird, but you’ll be completely safe. I carried you the same way last night for most of the hike. Please, Mik. Those clouds on the horizon look pretty angry. If we get caught in another storm…”
“Okay.” She raises her arm, and I duck my shoulder between her legs as I grab her wrist. She yelps when I straighten and hook my right arm under her left thigh. Bringing her torso across my shoulders, I hold her wrist tightly.
“Keep hold of the crutch, and don’t wriggle too much if you can help it. I’ll try to keep you as dry as I can.” Carrying her in this position leaves me with one hand free, and I grab the rope as I splash into the water.
To Mikayla’s credit, she stays almost perfectly still, even when I stumble and have to catch myself. “Almost there,” I grunt as I start to pull myself up onto the river bank.
Once she’s leaning against the tree on the other side, I wade across once more to untie the rope. We may only be a little over two kilometers from the lab, but I’m not taking any chances. Five separate trips across the water isn’t my idea of a good time, nor is hiking the rest of the way in soggy boots. But I’ve been in too many situations where I wished for rope and had none to leave any part of it behind.
“Ready?” I ask when I’m back across and have the rope safely stowed in my ruck.
“Not really. I don’t want to go back to the lab. Or anywhere close. But we don’t have a choice.”
I rub my hands together to warm them as best I can, then cup the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. “You’re not alone, Mik. And there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe.” Unclipping the small folding knife from its sheath on my belt, I press it into her palm. “It’s not much, but take this.”
Her eyes widen, and her fingers aren’t steady as she examines the blade. “I don’t know how…”
“Press here.” She does, and the knife snaps open. The speed of it startles her, but she doesn’t drop it. “And then to close it, hold here and fold it carefully. Good. It’s not a great weapon. But it’s better than nothing.”
After she opens and closes the knife two more times, she nods and slides it into her pocket. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mikayla
It takes us the better part of an hour to reach the trailer, and before we round the last bend, Austin pulls me down into a crouch and holds his finger to his lips. I don’t hear anything but the birds and the rustling leaves, until I turn my head slightly and pick out a low rumble underneath the ambient noise.
Whatever it is stops, but then a vehicle door slams, and I start to shake. It could just be my students. Right?
Austin’s posture says he doesn’t think so, and he presses closer to the trees hiding us, angling his head slightly. I can’t move as well as he does, so I wait, my heart pounding against my ribs, and try to keep taking slow, deep breaths.
After a few seconds, Austin’s fingers curl around the handle of the large knife he has sheathed on his right leg, and the look on his face? It’s deadly serious. He motions for me to get behind him, and as I maneuver myself on hands and knees, I hear one of them—Arturo, I think.
“Get in the truck. And hurry. When this thing goes up, it’s going to be big. We need to be back to the main road by then.”
“How long do we have?” Martín’s voice sends ice flooding my veins.
“Five minutes. Seven tops until the accelerant catches.”
Gas? Crap. All our work…
“These fuckers aren’t getting away,” Austin hisses in my ear. “Here are the keys. As soon as I distract them, take my ruck, go to the Land Rover, and get the hell out of here.”
They’ll kill him. I can’t lose Austin. I won’t. “They have guns. Please don’t do this. Let’s just wait until they leave. Maybe we could even save the lab…”
“Mik, it’s too dangerous.” He presses the keys into my hand, then cups my cheek. “Go down the hill and wait for me right before the main road. If you see their truck, floor it all the way back to the hotel and call the Policia. Understand?”
“No. Austin—“
“I can handle these two assholes. They tried to kill you and they are not getting away.”
He’s so confident, but we’ve been hiking for hours, and he has to be exhausted.
“Go as soon as they’re distracted,” Austin says, then plants a hard, swift kiss on my lips. “I’ll meet you.”
My eyes burn as he takes off, staying low, the knife still in his hand. After a dozen steps, he breaks into an all-out run, and I heft his pack and start limping towards the Land Rover. My ankle throbs with every step, the extra weight not doing me any favors.
Austin reaches the black truck rolling slowly over the rough terrain and jumps onto the back bumper, clutching one of the roll bars and riding the Jeep partway down the hill.
I keep to the far side of my vehicle, hiding behind it as I try to get the key into the passenger side door with my hands shaking. It takes me several tries, but finally, the door pops open and I shove his backpack onto the floor.
How long has it been? Three minutes? I have time. I can at least grab my laptop or one of the sample cases. Bursting through the door, I yelp and stumble as I hear a gunshot from halfway down the hill. My crutch bangs into something small and light, sending it tumbling across the cheap carpeted floor. What the heck?
It’s a road flare. Lit. Smoke fills the space, and I cough until I hear muffled cries. Oh God. Squinting, I can barely make out Li’s face. She’s on the floor, bound, gagged, and struggling. Isaiah’s a few feet away, and to my left, Corey lies on his side, blood streaming from his temple.
The sparks from the flare hit a dark stain on the carpet, and with a whoosh, flames rush all the way to the back corner of the trailer, so bright and hot it’s like looking into the face of the sun.
Austin
If I needed to feel like a badass, hanging onto the back of a Jeep as it rolls slowly down the side of a mountain? It’s not exactly doing it for me. Maybe if the vehicle were moving faster than ten miles an hour, things would be different. I don’t risk a glance back at Mikayla. Her vehicle should start any second.
Digging my knife into the Jeep’s soft top, I rip a four-foot hole in the canvas and drop down into the back seat. “Buenos tardes, assholes.” A shot whizzes past my left arm as I sink the blade into the soft flesh behind the passenger’s collar bone. His scream brings me more satisfaction than I should admit, and I grab for his gun, twisting it out of his hand, but I can’t relish in the victory because the driver jams his elbow back and catches me in the jaw.
Fuck. It’s been too long. I’ve lost my edge. My vision blurs for a second, but I still manage to lurch forward and get my hand around the wheel. Wrenching it hard to one side, I lose my balance as the Jeep lurches, landing on my ass behind the passenger seat and firing at the driver.
My shot goes wide, hitting him in the forearm, and he says something I don’t understand because metal screeches as the front bumper crumples against a large tree.
The scent of blood fills the Jeep, and I scramble up and back out through the hole in the roof. The driver’s head hit the windshield—seatbelts, fuckers, learn to love ‘em—and the other guy...he’s struggling to push himself up and get to the roof to follow me.
“Austin! Help me!”
Mikayla. From the faintness of her cry, she’s still back up at the lab, and fuck me. If these two idiots were telling the truth, the whole thing’s going to blow in the next five minutes.
The driver won’t be an issue. But the passenger? Backing away, I aim three shots at the roof and pray it’s enough.
Sprinting back up the hill, I panic when I see the thick, black smoke pouring out of the trailer. Mikayla’s limping out the door with someone leaning on her.
Li. Her student. If the other two are in there…
“Mik! Start the goddamn car and get clear!” I’m still eighty feet away. Sixty. Forty.
“Isaiah and Corey,” she croaks, her breathing labored and her face stained with soot.
“Get in the car and start driving. Now. Down the hill!” Fuck. I don’t even know if I can get to them. Flames lick along the bottom of the door, and I jump, landing in a crouch. Halfway across the room, Isaiah’s struggling to rip through the duct tape wrapped around his ankles. Corey’s unconscious. And unbound. The harsh scent of alcohol burns my nose. This whole place is going up any minute.
I slash at the tape, and Isaiah gets to his hands and knees. “Go. Get out of here!”
Just as I turn to Corey, the entire back wall goes up like someone hit it with a Molotov cocktail. My pants catch fire, and part of the roof caves in, falling across Corey’s legs.
If we don’t get out of here in the next ten seconds, we’re both dead. I can already feel my lungs seizing, and the smoke, thick and black and acrid, is just inches above our heads.
Yanking him up and over my shoulders, I lurch for the door, jump down the steps, and roll with Corey on top of me, over and over to dampen the flames.
He’s not moving, but I stagger to my feet and, sighting the Land Rover halfway down the hill, drag him towards it. If only I could catch my breath. Or feel my face.
The lab erupts in a giant fireball and the entire trailer collapses with a roar as the rain pelts my back. I can’t keep going much farther. But I can see Mikayla get out of the car before my vision starts to dim.
And then I’m on the ground, staring up at the stormy sky as she screams my name.
“Austin!” Her rough, rasping voice helps keep me from passing out, and her fingers trail over my cheeks. “Oh God. You could have died…”
Groaning triggers a coughing fit, and she helps me sit up and passes me a bottle of water. After two sips, I croak, “Corey,” and Mik tears up.
“He’s alive,” Isaiah says. Li sobs into his shirt as he rubs her back. “But the guys who took us hit him really hard.”
Poachers. Jeep. Shit. Pushing to my feet, I scan all around us. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” Mik’s voice cracks, and I wrap my arm around her waist and help her limp over to the Land Rover. “As soon as I started driving away from the lab, they took off.” Tears tumble down her cheeks, carving trails in the soot and mixing with the rain. “They could have killed…all of us.“ She hiccups, shaking her head, and I pull her close.
“I know, sweetheart. But I’m okay. You’re okay. And we’re going to get everyone to the hospital.” But that doesn’t console her. She’s starting to shake now, the beginnings of shock, likely, and I have to calm her down. “Breathe for me, Mik. Long and slow. Can you do that?”
She nods, and once I help her into the passenger seat, I stumble around to the back of the Land Rover and open the lift gate. “We need to keep Corey as still as possible. Isaiah, can you sit back here with him?”
“I don’t…Li…”
“I’ll be okay,” the young woman says and swipes her hands over her cheeks. Isaiah helps me maneuver Corey into the back, then climbs in with him, sitting next to the unconscious man and holding his head still. Corey’s chest stutters with each breath, and his right leg, hip, and arm are covered with burned patches of skin. I check his pulse. Rapid and weak. He’s in full shock—or heading there pretty damn quick.
Grabbing my rucksack, I pull out a bottle of water and then shove the pack under Corey’s legs. I fix Isaiah with a hard stare and force as much command into my tone as I have left in me at this point. “Take off your shirt and tear it into strips.” To the kid’s credit, he doesn’t ask any questions, just pulls the blue tee off and starts ripping. “Pour some water onto the strips and lay them over the burns. If he stops breathing, tell me immediately. Got it?”
The young man nods.
We’re all dragging ass, but I climb into the driver’s seat and turn to Mik. “Tell me you’re all right, sweetheart.”
“I’m okay.” She clutches her inhaler like it’s life itself, and her mouth opens and shuts twice before she can force her next words out. “Drive. Please. I don’t ever want to see this place again.”
I throw the Land Rover into gear and floor it towards the main road. The ride is rough as shit, but what we all need right now is medical treatment. As quickly as possible. Once we reach asphalt, I reach for Mik’s hand, thread our fingers, and hold on tight.
As long as those assholes who hurt her are still walking free, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to let her go.
Chapter Fifteen
Mikayla
The past twenty minutes are a blur of terrible images I’ll never forget. Seeing my students, my kids, tied up, gagged, terrified. Smelling the alcohol in the air. The blood. The flames racing towards Li’s bound feet. I didn’t think. Dropped the crutch, grabbed the small knife Austin gave me, and fell next to her, hacking at the duct tape.
The fire extinguisher wasn’t where we always kept it. The smoke was so thick, and it burned my throat, my lungs. I curse my asthma. Even now, my lungs are close to seizing, and I clutch my inhaler in my free hand, ready just in case I can’t fight it off any longer.
We’re all coughing, and the scent filling the Land Rover—burnt skin, the alcohol soaked into Li and Isaiah’s clothes, and blood—is too much. I roll down the window, forcing myself to breathe as slowly as I can.
Austin shifts his hand to my thigh.
“I’ll be all right,” I manage. “Just…”
“Don’t talk unless you need to. We’ll have time for that later. According to the GPS, the nearest hospital is still a little more than twelve kilometers away.”
The concern in his voice makes my heart hurt. I have to tell him about Corey. But he’s in full protector mode right now, and if he finds out one of my students tried to kill me, it won’t matter that Arturo and Martín decided to kill Corey along with the others.
