Katie Reus: Targeted

When the doors whooshed open he ducked outside and behind the valet desk. Crouching down, he scanned the wooden board until he saw his keys. In all the chaos, no one was paying attention to him. And if they were, they didn’t care what he was doing.

Seconds later he was back inside. Fear punched through him when he didn’t spot Sophie.

“I’m here.” She jumped up from behind one of the huge potted palm trees against the wall, still clutching her purse like a lifeline.

“Come on.” He kept his hand at the small of her back as they ran toward one of the side exits.

“Where are we going?”

“To get my vehicle.”

“How do you even know where it is?” she asked as he pushed open the exit door into an empty tiled hallway.

“I know where they valet the cars.” Before he went anywhere, he made it a point to memorize the schematics of the building. It always amazed him that people would give up their car keys to strangers without knowing anything about where their property was being taken.

Sophie’s heels clacked along the floor, and even in her restrictive skirt, she almost matched his stride.

“This way.” He motioned to turn left at the next open hallway.

She tripped on the slick floor as they made the sharp turn, but he caught her before she fell. A burst of raw adrenaline and lust surged through him in equal doses when his hand snaked around her waist. Sophie tensed, shoved away from him, and kept running on her own.

“We’re almost there.” When they made it to the last door, he held up a finger to her and pulled out the SIG, which had been nicely tucked into his shoulder holster and hidden by his jacket.

“What the hell?” She stared at the gun with wide eyes, real fear in her gaze.

“Stay close to me, please.” Jack wasn’t sure whether it was the unexpected weapon or the “please,” but Sophie jerkily nodded.

He eased the door open. No one was in this section of the parking garage. He pressed the unlock button. Two rows over, the SUV beeped and the lights flashed.

After one more visual sweep, he reached behind him without turning around. “Come on.”

When he felt Sophie’s delicate hand in his, an invisible vise tightened around his chest. She was trusting him with her life and he’d be damned if he screwed this up.

Crouching low, they slipped out the exit door and ducked behind a four-door sedan. With their backs against the passenger door, Jack motioned with one hand. “My SUV is about two rows over. We’re going to make a run for it.”

“Is there someone in this parking garage after us?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but I’m not taking a chance.” There were too many variables right now, and Sophie’s possible involvement was a very big one.

He’d considered the fact that someone from one of his previous jobs might have tracked him down—almost an impossibility considering that most people he’d worked with were dead or in prison—but something told him that shooter hadn’t been aiming for him. The potted plant had been a lot closer to Sophie. No, someone had been after her. Which might mean his cover had been compromised, but more likely someone didn’t want her talking. About what? He had no idea. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was getting her out of here and getting some answers.

Fast.

“On the count of two, we go.” Using his fingers, he counted. On two, they sprinted across the concrete, using the other cars as cover. Her shoes smacked loudly, ruining any chance of covertness they had.

Before getting inside the SUV, he lay on the ground to make sure someone hadn’t planted a bomb. Definitely paranoid, but he’d rather be that than dead. Once they were inside his vehicle, he started the ignition, kicked it into drive, and pulled out of the spot before she had a chance to strap in.

He barreled through the first level, keeping his eyes open for anyone suspicious, but the level was clean. Jack paused at the exit, then took a left. His tires squealed loudly as he zoomed away.

“What the hell is going on? And why are you carrying a gun? Who are you?” Sophie’s questions came at him like machine gun fire as she gripped the armrest with a white-knuckled hand.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Her voice rose a few octaves.

“Whoever was shooting at us wasn’t aiming at me.” He quickly scanned her. She was rumpled, but he couldn’t see any blood.

“What . . . You think someone was shooting at me ? You’re insane.” She shook her head and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before glancing down at herself. Her crisp white button-down blouse was missing a couple of buttons and her jacket was ripped at one of the seams. “Why aren’t we calling the police?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. No one was behind them, so he took a right onto Ocean Drive. It was Miami’s most famous and most crowded street. They’d be able to blend in and get lost if they needed to. At least until he could secure another vehicle.

“You never told me why you’re carrying a gun.”

He ignored her and switched lanes while keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. If someone was tailing them, they were good because Jack didn’t see anyone.

“Okay, are you just ignoring everything I’m saying?” Her voice rose again, that temper he remembered so well flaring brightly.

It shouldn’t turn him on, but damn if he didn’t love and miss that fire in her. “I’m trying to get us away from here in one piece. I’ll answer your questions once we’re safe.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dig into her purse. Before he realized what she was doing, she was on the phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” He risked a glance at her as they came to a red light.

“Calling Ronald.”

“Damn it, woman—” He lunged for the phone, but she jerked away from him lightning fast at the same time a horn blasted from behind.

He accelerated and gritted his teeth. Technically, he could forcibly take the phone from her, but he wasn’t sure if that was necessary yet. The thought of hurting her, even inadvertently, sliced up his insides.

“Hi, Mandy. It’s Sophie. I need to talk to Ronald. . . . Homeland Security . . . They want to talk to me. . . . Are you sure? . . . I don’t understand—”

Screw it. Jack grabbed her phone and pulled the battery out in a few short moves. She squawked and reached for it, but he shoved both pieces into the side of the door.

He was surprised by her silence, but considering he had a gun, he knew he shouldn’t be. She had to be scared out of her mind. But after a few long beats she started cursing at him in rapid-fire Spanish—and he inwardly smiled. Back when they were teenagers and she got pissed, she’d always had the same reaction. It was probably messed up, but he liked the sound of her cursing at him like this. It meant she was angry, and that was an emotion he could always deal with.

When she finally caught her breath and seemed to calm down a fraction, she said, “Where are you taking me, cabron ?”

Okay, she wasn’t that calm if she was cursing at him. “I have a backup car stashed not far from here. We’re going to retrieve it; then I’m going to get you somewhere safe.”

“Safe? You think I’m going to trust you?” She snorted, the sound irreverent, but he didn’t miss the way she nervously wrapped her arms around herself.

Winding his way through Miami, he was watchful of anyone that might be following them. Sophie was fidgety as he drove but didn’t ask any more questions, probably because she was now terrified of him. Or more terrified than she had been already.