Jodie Bailey - Smokescreen

As she pulled in a deep breath, the man stiffened, muscles coiled. “I will kill you and anyone who tries to help you.”

Ashley deflated as they stepped through the exterior doors and the cool humidity of a New York spring night enveloped them, the soft air mocking her plight. She couldn’t win at the moment, but she would not give up. In the parking deck, she could hide behind a car, buy a few seconds and flag down a passing driver...though it was almost certain this man would kill anyone who stopped.

As they stepped into the dim light of the quiet parking deck, a red pickup screeched to a halt at the sidewalk in front of them and a man jumped out, blocking their path. “Thanks for dropping me off,” he called to someone inside. “Let me get my stuff out of the back and I’ll catch you on the return trip.”

Her captor huffed and shifted his step to ease her toward the bed of the pickup, the shorter way around.

But as they stepped sideways, the man spun and threw a sudden punch, knocking her abductor’s grip from her. Before Ashley could even gasp, the newcomer had shoved her through the open back door of the truck and onto the floor then dived in behind her. “Stay down!” His shout was nearly drowned out by the thwack of bullets hitting metal as the vehicle squealed tires and roared forward.

Ashley’s entire body screamed from the tension and rough treatment. Glass shattered and small pieces showered them. Fighting the weight that pinned her to the wide floorboard, she found her voice and screamed.

“Make her stop. I can’t think,” the driver called.

“Drive. And have a little sympathy.” The new threat slowly hefted himself off of her and onto the seat. “I think you got us out of there. Nice driving.” He looked at Ashley. “You’re safe...for now. But don’t get off the floor.”

Rolling to her side, Ashley prepared to scream again, but a hand lay gently across her mouth. “You’re okay. Look at me.” The voice was low and...familiar?

A whole new kind of adrenaline rocketed through her as her green eyes met brown ones she’d never forgotten. She sucked in a gasp, choking on the leftover scream in her throat, and buried her face in her hands, certain now this was all a bad dream. Ethan?

Sean’s last words swirled. “I’ve sent—”

Ethan Kincaid. Sean had sent Ethan Kincaid. The man who, five years ago, had nearly cost her her life.

* * *

Fear, resentment, confusion... Ashley’s expression shifted so quickly Ethan could hardly track it all. When she hid her face, it was all he could do not to pull her close and tell her he’d protect her.

Not that she’d believe him, and he didn’t have time to convince her now.

Peeking over the backseat of the truck, he scanned the road behind them. “We’re not being followed. Yet. But with shots fired at an airport, it won’t be long.”

“And with our rear end shot up, we’re a little obvious. Smart guy to use a silencer, but I doubt this whole little adventure went unnoticed.”

Ethan noted Mitchum’s jaw was set so tight it had to hurt. He looked grim, angry. Likely because it was his truck sporting a new series of ventilation holes.

Ethan caught his eye in the rearview mirror. “Told you to let me drive.”

“Shut up, Kincaid. Where do we go from here?”

Ethan watched Ashley, mind racing for a plan. She still hadn’t moved, the only indication she was alive being the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders as she came dangerously close to hyperventilating. His practiced eyes scanned for wounds but didn’t see anything to concern him. Not like the last time.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, fingers brushing the soft blond hair that slipped forward with every breath she took. There was no way five years had passed since he’d last seen her. She hadn’t changed a bit. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Over time he’d managed to convince himself he’d done the right thing by leaving her to Sean, but now, in her presence, his decision reeked of stupidity and selfishness.

She worked her jaw from side to side then looked up, meeting his eyes with those improbable green ones. Even strangers had stopped her to comment. She swallowed hard. “What is going on here?” The words barely made it out through her tight jaw.

“Are you okay?”

Her nostrils flared, but she only nodded.

There was no telling what she really wanted to say to him. Right now, they were probably all blessed by her speechlessness.

Ethan tore his gaze from hers and pulled his hand to his side, the warmth of her lingering on his palm. He never should have touched her. She was Sean’s. Always would be. Their engagement might have been short-lived, but whenever Sean talked about her, the strength of his feelings bled into the words.

“Kincaid? Direction here?” Mitchum needed an answer.

There was work to do and God bless his partner for pulling him back to it. Ashley might be...well, Ashley, but she was also an assignment, and she should be treated as such. Shoving the past into a box and mentally securing the lock, he leaned forward. “Call local law enforcement and tell them to step back, but don’t give them a clue why. Take me to my truck, then ditch yours and get another vehicle, one our kidnapper won’t recognize.”

Mitchum’s eyes met his in the mirror. “You think it’s wise to split up?”

“I think getting Ashley to safety is priority number one. Getting the evidence is number two.”

“Let me handle picking up the—”

“No. We get her safe. We link up. We move forward.” One thing at a time. As long as they were in this vehicle, it wouldn’t be long before the network after Ashley found them again or local law enforcement tied them up in more red tape than they had time for. While separating from his partner was normally foolhardy, there wasn’t time for them to do everything and get Ashley to the safe house fast enough.

Mitchum exhaled so hard the picture of Ashley on the dash fluttered. His eye twitched. “I don’t think—”

“I’m ordering you.”

Ethan’s voice was so firm, Ashley flinched.

She cleared her throat. “Start explaining. Now.” She moved to ease up to the seat, but a sharp shake of Ethan’s head sank her to the floor again. “Is Sean okay?”

There it was. The question he’d been dreading. The question with no good answer.

“We don’t know.” Mitchum’s voice cut in from the front.

Ethan wanted to punch his partner’s seat. The last thing Ashley needed right now was more uncertainty and fear. When they’d linked up for this mission, Sean had updated Ethan on Ashley’s recovery, so he already knew her fear was a ticking time bomb. The post-traumatic stress following her shooting had derailed her military career and shattered her future.

Ashley’s eyes slipped closed as she momentarily withdrew, sitting back against the door. Rather than fall apart the way Ethan had feared, Ashley’s posture stiffened, almost stone-like in its lack of emotion. “Why did he send you, of all people?”

More than the words, the tone tore at him with serrated edges. It was a moment before he could answer. He shot Mitchum a warning glance in the rearview, then looked at her. He’d expected a panic attack, a loss of control, but she’d become a statue, an impassive observer.

The question was tougher to answer than she realized. Ethan’s plan included a lot of things from shoot-outs to fistfights, but how to explain his sudden reappearance wasn’t one he’d dwelled on.

“Sean’s in trouble.” Resignation gave Ashley’s words a dull edge.

Ethan’s hand twitched, the drive to comfort her overwhelming. Ashley and Sean had grown up together, even joined the army together after their parents were killed in a car accident on frozen New York roads. While Sean went infantry, Ashley joined the military police—where Ethan had fallen for her the very first time he’d seen her.