Page 94 of Healing Conviction
“I’mtrying,” she shouted back as she held the phone up to the security card reader box. A bullet pinged into the metal above the security pad and she yelped, nearly dropping her phone.
“You okay?”
“Peachy fuckin’ keen,” she yelled, before shoving her gun behind her. “Here, hold this.”
Drake snagged it and turned back, now shooting both guns. She took a breath and closed her eyes before holding the phone up against the card key lock again, silently promising herself to keep it flush to the security pad until it was unlocked, despite the firefight around her.
She listened, her eardrums hurting from the shouts and gunshots echoing off the metal walls, and the blood rushing in her ears. Finally, she heard the gentle chirp. In her next move, she flung the door open, and ran.
As soon as she felt the crisp night air on her face, relief threatened to slow her down, but she dug her heels into the pavement and ran for the hole in the fence, hoping that Drake was behind her. Her job was to get to safety. That’s what they’d agreed on, and she was going to do her damnedest to get there without Drake having to get distracted by her again.
She raced across the pavement, the box awkward in her arms and the laptop slapping against her back, until the door at the other end of the warehouse opened.
Shit, what if that guy gets to me before I get to the fence? What do I do?
“Gate, Pix!”
Thankfully Drake was once again on the same wavelength, answering her question. She pivoted toward the entrance to the parking lot, sprinting past his limping jog, and tried not to get sidetracked over how slow he was getting. The gate was her goal. She had to get it open for them both so they could run toward freedom.
Steps away from the mechanical gate, she reached out, grabbed a hold of the metal and flung it open, just as the fence hummed to life. Bright white light flashed in her mind and a jolt of hot pain shocked through her body as she snatched her hand back with a scream.
Drake cursed behind her as he stopped by her side. He picked her up and set her down on the other side. Once she was back on her feet, he grabbed the rubber box from her arms and used it to shove the electric gate closed so hard it bounced against the fencing.
She didn’t wait to see if it opened again, instead pushing past the burning pain shooting through her hand and every nerve to run away. After a few strides, Drake grabbed her arm and tugged her against a nearby tree before pushing the box at her again and meeting her eyes.
“I know it’s heavy and I know you hurt, Pix, but you’ve gotta take this and trust me. I’ll meet you at the campsite.”
His words came in huffs and his shoulders drooped. Panic filled her as she saw his normally tan face was now pale under the streetlight, sweat pouring down his skin.
“What do you mean, you’ll meet me there, Drake? Come with me! We can help each other get there!”
He glanced to the side, and she peered around the trunk to see the men at the gate were trying to figure out how to open it, while the drunk one from before kept shooting. Drake examined both guns, ejecting their magazines, revealing not nearly enough bullets before popping them back in.
Fear choked her. “Do you have any more?”
His lips tightened in a thin line before plucking the extra magazine from her back pocket, all but forgotten until now.
“This will have to do.”
She clutched his forearm, digging her fingernails into his tattoo. “Please, Drake. Come with me.”
“I will. But I’m gonna slow you down and they’re not gonna stop coming for us until they get that box. So go to the campsite and hide, alright?” A bulletthunkedagainst the tree and Drake pushed her farther behind the trunk before firing off a shot of his own. “Please, baby. Listen to me.”
Her heart wrenched at the realization that he was all but begging her. A warm tear ran down her hot face in the cool wind, but she nodded.
I have to trust him. He’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.
Standing on her tiptoes, she left a final kiss on his cheek before taking off. She sprinted past bushes and small trees, successfully waiting until she got to the bridge to finally look back.
Drake was fending off two of the men now. A third was running toward the distribution center, while the other two were still shooting by the fence. One of the shooters noticed her and fired off a wild shot in her general direction. She immediately ducked behind a bush. Drake turned around, horror in his eyes, and guilt flooded her as the shooter then turned on him again.
“Nora, fuckingrun!”
She turned on her heel again, barreling around the bend in the road and over the bridge, straight into the woods, this time not once looking back.
Not even when a pained scream filled the night.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT