Long Road Home(40)

Sadness crept into her beautiful blue eyes. She didn’t believe him. That was fine. He would convince her.

His cell phone rang and he yanked it up. “Yeah.”

“Hey, buddy. Look, I’ve got you and Jules on a flight out of the Henry County Airport in two hours.”

Manual blinked in surprise. “We tried flying already. Don’t you think it’s too risky?” The idea of being trapped on an airplane for an indeterminate amount of time didn’t rest easy with him. Not with whoever was chasing him and Jules out there. Sure, they’d gotten rid of the tracking device, but he didn’t think the baddies were going to give up that easily.

“It’s a small strip, mostly used for private planes. You guys need to get here as soon as possible, and this is the best I can come up with. The alternative is for you to be on the highways for the next few days, and that’s too much exposure.”

“You’re right,” Manuel conceded. “We’ll be on it.”

“See you soon, then.”

Manuel looked up at Jules. “We leave in two hours.”

Her expression was indecipherable, but he could swear, her body language was screaming relief. Why was she so gung ho to get to D.C.?

“I’ll get our stuff,” she said as she slid off the barstool.

He wanted to reach out and touch her again. Feel her in his arms. Last night hadn’t been nearly enough. It would never be enough and would never make up for the time they’d lost.

He looked down at his plate and shoved it away. He’d lost his appetite. He didn’t know what would happen when they reached D.C. It wasn’t as if he could introduce her to his coworkers. Hey, here’s the woman I love, and by the way she’s a member of the terrorist group we’ve been trying to infiltrate for the last few years.

His head throbbed, and he rubbed his palm over his mouth. Tony sure as hell better have some answers by the time they got to D.C. If not, this was going to be one giant cluster f**k.

The brisk morning air rushed through her nostrils as they stepped from the cabin. Jules inhaled deeply, enjoying the coolness on her face. Behind her, Manny locked the door then joined her beside the SUV.

The gravel crunched under her tennis shoes as she walked around to the back so they could stow their bags in the rear of the vehicle. When she tried the door, she found it locked.

She stuck her head around the back and called out to Manny. “You got the keys?”

Instead of tossing them to her outstretched hand, he walked back and inserted the key into the lock. He raised the door then turned to take her bag from her.

As he twisted back around, Jules heard a slight zinging. Then the back seat of the SUV shuddered. Manny emitted a curse of pain. She knew immediately what it was.

A sniper.

Chapter Eighteen

Jules threw herself over Manny, knocking him to the ground. Simultaneously, she reached for the Glock in his shoulder harness. Another bullet whined by and struck the ground over her arm.

“Goddamn it, Jules, get off me!” Manny threw her behind him and rolled over on his side. “Give me the gun!”

She ignored him. Ignored everything but the one thought most pressing in her mind. She wouldn’t let him die. If the bastards wanted her, then by God, they’d have to come and get her.

She dove over Manny and hit the gravel drive with a roll. She scrambled to her feet, hearing Manny curse a blue streak behind her. She raised the Glock and pointed it in the direction the sniper’s bullet had come from and ran a sideways line. Away from Manny.

Where was the cowardly bastard? She ran as fast as she could, knowing if she paused even for a minute, the sniper would be able to get a bead on her more easily. She dodged behind trees, all the while searching for any sign of movement from the direction of the gunfire.

The roar of an engine sounded behind her, and she glanced back to see the SUV barreling toward her. Manny drove like a madman to catch up to her. When he drew alongside her, she yanked the door open, not wanting to go around to the other side where the sniper would have a clear shot. She dove into the back seat, and Manny roared off, the SUV careening back onto the gravel drive and toward the main road.

“That was the most stupid, dumbass stunt you’ve pulled yet,” he yelled. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

She ignored his ranting, her eyes focused on his arm. His blood. Her heart lurched and sped up. Oh my God, he’d been shot.

“Manny, pull over.”

He threw her a what-the-hell look over his shoulder and continued at breakneck speed down the highway.

“Manny, you’ve been shot!”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

She clambered over the seat, landing in a heap on the passenger side. She scrambled to right herself, putting legs down and head up as she untangled her body from its awkward position.

His sleeve was tattered where the bullet had taken a swipe. She yanked it downward, tearing the material so she could expose the wound.

Her heart catapulted a few times when she saw it was only a graze. She pressed her lips to his shoulder just above the wound and closed her eyes in relief.

“I’m all right, Jules,” he muttered. “Which is more than I’ll be able to say for you when I stop this bloody car and turn you over my knee.”

Oh God, she didn’t care how angry he was. He was alive. Relatively unscathed. He could be mad at her for the rest of his life just as long as he had a rest of his life.