Barb Han - Hard Target

Dueño’s reach had long arms. Just as he had promised. Could Emily envision a life on the run? No. She’d fought too hard to put down roots. She’d found a new city, bought a town house and worked her butt off to be next in line for her boss’s job. Dueño was forcing her into a different direction. Anger burned through her.

Another hard jerk of the steering wheel and Emily felt herself tumbling, spinning.

Reed’s rich timbre penetrated the out-of-control Ferris wheel. “Relax as much as you can.”

Time temporarily suspended. Emily drifted out of her own body as the spinning slowed, and then stopped.

Everything went black, but she still could hear shouting. Someone was yelling at her. A deeply masculine voice called. She coughed and blinked her eyes open.

Smoke was everywhere.

Everything burned. Her nose. Her eyes. Her throat.

Her body might’ve stopped spinning, but her head hadn’t.

“Emily. Stay with me.” The voice came from a tunnel filled with light.

Or did it?

There was something comforting about the large physical presence near her.

“Emily. I need you to try to move.” A sense of urgency tinged the apologetic tone.

Her response came out as a croak. She tried harder to open her eyes and gain her bearings.

Sirens sounded in the distance a few moments after she heard another pop of gunfire. The men. Oh, no. All at once she remembered being on the run. Their car had been forced off the road, while speeding, and thrown into a dangerous spin. The Jeep had rolled. And that voice calling her belonged to Border Patrol Agent Reed Campbell.

Her eyes shot open.

Heat from a fire blazed toward her. Flames licked at her skin. Thick smoke filled her lungs.

She was trapped in a burning car while men shot at her. It took another few precious seconds for her to realize she was upside down. At least the inferno kept the men at bay, except for Reed. He was right by her side. An unfamiliar feeling stuck in her chest at the thought someone actually had her back for a change. Emily wanted to gravitate toward the pleasant emotion, except she couldn’t move. She wiggled her hips, hoping to break free. No luck.

The seat belt must be stuck.

There was no feeling in her legs. She tamped down panic, knowing full well that couldn’t be good. Even if she could work the belt free, which she was trying with both hands, how would she run?

She’d have to solve that puzzle when she came to it.

“Take 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.