Page 133 of Secret Mission

He’s not out of the woods.

People die from drowning even after they’ve been saved. We need medical help now, but we have to get away from here.

I’ve never been so glad when Justice finds keys in the ignition.

He could probably hotwire a boat, just like he did the car, but I’m not eager to find that out right now.

The oversized outboard engines fire up the instant he turns the key.

“Allison, get the lines.”

I scramble along the side of the boat, releasing one rope after another until we’re free. “Ready!”

Hell is breaking loose, literally. Hail and lightning and whipping wind.

The boat is bobbing on the growing windswell, tossing me back and forth.

“They’re coming.” Justice’s voice is yanked away by a gust as he shoves the throttle forward. “Get down!”

The first crack of gunfire sends me diving over Truck’s chest. “Go! Go! Go!”

Chapter Forty-Five

I’m not sure if I’m dreaming. Flashing lights make me squint. A heavy weight across my body. Fire burning inside my chest.

Then an angelic, angry voice. “Don’t you give up on me! We’re getting help. You hang on. Don’t you go out on me again.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Can’t.” A wet wracking cough hits me. “Fuck, my head, that hurts.”

Allison’s rain-soaked fingers slide over my temple.

She kisses me on the cheek, her nose bouncing against me as the boat slices through the waves. “What happened on the dock? You were crouching down?”

+++

Silence…Darkness…

I’m being stabbed in the arm.

I can’t even open my eyes, but I know that feeling. “Jesus, what gauge needle are you using?”

An unfamiliar voice calls out next to me. “He’s awake!”

When I force my lids up, the room is too bright.

Shit. Give me a break.

“Someone draw the damned blinds.”

“Somebody’s a baby.”

I recognize that wisecrack. “Justice.”

A large hand lands on my arm. “Somebody’s going to be glad as hell to see you, and she’s going to be angry as a badger that I made her get some sleep.”

When I open my eyes fully this time, my friend is leaning over the side of the bed. Dark circles. Worry lines. Too much stubble.

“She’s okay?” I rasp, feeling everything in my throat—the drowning, the emotions that are clawing their way up from my heart, and the desperate need to see my girl.