Chapter Forty
Candy felt energized, a little saddened at recalling the end of her childhood, but that gave her the impetus to get moving. She must’ve caught her second wind. Her brain kicked into drive from neutral. She stretched her legs and realized something. She slapped a hand on her forehead.
“Well, fuck me,” she growled.
Josh moved behind her. “If you insist.”
She batted at his hands and scooted away. “Josh. They never frisked me.” She unzipped her side pant pocket and pulled out a hand gun. Then did the same on the other side for pistol number two. “I just remembered I had them.”
Josh picked up a weapon, though he didn’t usually carry one. Shifters preferred to use brute strength and stealth, but on a boat at sea, that wasn’t always possible.
“Okay,” she said, feeling back on her game. “Can you bend the bars?” she asked Josh.
“Let’s see.” He got to his feet and positioned his body just right then gritted his teeth and pulled the rods. For a second, nothing moved, but then slowly, the bars formed a bow-legged exit. Josh took her hand and they slipped out.
“Have your nose get us back topside,” she said. To her, the halls looked identical with gray paint and pipes running everywhere.
She opened a door, and salty air hit her nose and tongue. The wind was brisk and chilly with no sun to warm it. If she waited a few more hours, it would be time for it to rise. But, yeah, she wasn’t in the mood.
Through the shadows, Josh led them along the stacked containers crowding the center of the ship. He stopped and peeked around a corner, then turned back to her.
“Doesn’t seem to be anyone up here. They’re all in the stern or below deck. We should be able to get in and take off. Can you do that quickly?” he asked with a smile.
Her eyes rolled. “I don’t know. Never tried to be fast before.”
He pecked her on the lips then they took off running. Josh got her in her seat and closed the door then hurried around to his side. Her fingers danced over buttons and switches in a routine she’d done thousands of times over the years.
At a tap on her window, she turned her head. Mikhail stood frowning, gun resting against the window. Son of bitch. Where had the fucker come from? They were so close. Then she realized Josh hadn’t gotten in the bird yet. Her heart leapt into her throat. Where was he?
She heard a noise. Maybe a gunshot, but the spinning rotor blades made too much noise to be sure. Either way, Mikhail disappeared from her door. Where did he go? Where the hell was Josh?
One of the guys who escorted them to the cell came around the corner. She opened the pilot’s door and shot at him, hitting him in the chest. Others followed behind him. Before the men saw her in the cockpit, she dropped to the deck and rolled under the craft to the few feet of deck left before going over the railing.
Her hair whipped around her face and stung her cheeks. Keeping low, she scrambled to the side looking for cover. A bullet ricocheted off the railing beside her head. She dove toward a crate but it was too far to do her any good. Another shot bounced in front of her, showering splinters from the decking onto her.
She dropped her gun and raised her hands, though she doubted it would do any good. Killers like Mikhail killed with no remorse or second thoughts. The only thing to stay his hand would be money.
Another man charged her, gun aimed at her. Instead of shooting, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet. He drew her backside against his chest, placing the gun under her chin. He asked in a heavy accent, “Where is your boyfriend?”
Anger and possessiveness rolled through her. Josh wasn’t a boyfriend, he was her mate, which meant he loved her and would never hurt or leave her. “How the fuck do I know?” She threw her head back and smashed her skull into his nose. The feel of cartilage giving way was satisfying.
With a double-arm elbow thrust to the man’s stomach, she doubled him over and pushed him back a few steps. Grabbing his hair, she drove a knee to his head, sending him sprawling, out cold. Thank god for the exhaustive self-defense training the army forced recruits through.
More bullets bounced off a beam at her side. She fell flat, snatched the prick’s gun from him and fired blindly until the clip was empty. The shots at her stopped. But more rounds were blasting on the other side. Was Josh over there? Stupid question. Trouble followed him, right? Or was it her? Either way, they made a great contenders for Mr. and Mrs. James Bond. She’d be happy with the Boring family instead.
All the things Josh had said in the cell were right. She was afraid of being like her father if she had children. She’d seen Monica and her husband interact and already knew she wanted to emulate them. And she’d already decided Josh was perfect. He kept saying he’d never leave, so what the hell?
A shot flew over her head and Josh came out of nowhere, tackling her to the deck. Blood had soaked the front of his white T-shirt, which was smeared with mud, cobwebs, and grass stains. His breathing was heavy, face alarmingly pale. He needed to shift before he died.
A voice came from behind her and she turned on her knees, keeping Josh protected at her back. Mikhail, bloody and beaten up, pointed his gun at her and slowly limped toward them. She had nowhere to go and no weapon to defend her and Josh.
She sat with her back to Mikhail and scooted Josh’s head and shoulders onto her knees. “Josh, you need to shift now.” He rolled his head side to side.
“Can’t protect you then,” he managed.
“You aren’t now, either,” she hollered over the helicopter’s engine. “You die if you don’t shift and what good are you to me then?” He still refused. She looked over her shoulder at Mikhail. The man was determined to kill them point-blank. That would be fine for her, but Josh would survive if it was the last thing she’d do.
“Listen to me,” she said. “You may not be in the military, but you’re damn close enough. So that means you are under my command since I’m one of the highest there is. And I’m ordering you to shift this instant and hide.” A hard object poked at her head. She saw Mikhail’s feet at her side. This was it.
Josh reached toward Mikhail, still trying to protect her to his dying breath. Not if she had her way. She looked into Josh’s eyes locked onto hers. Her last words: “I love you. Have since the moment I walked into your office. Now, shift.”
She threw her body backward, slamming against Mikhail’s legs. A gunshot rang in her ears.