Guns and Roses (16 page)

Holly squeezed her eyes shut and tried to envision her surroundings. The floor was metal. There were no seats back here, and she was surrounded by bags of animal feed. But her nose told her there was something else back here, too. The distinctive scent of gun oil—a smell she’d always associated with her dad when he’d come back from the firing range—floated around her, and she knew she was being transported with a cache of weapons.

Holly’s heart raced. A sour lump rose up in her throat and she struggled to swallow it down so it wouldn’t choke her. Obviously, this man was armed. She wasn’t. And her hands were zip-cuffed behind her back, making it impossible for her to defend herself. What was she going to do when he got wherever he was going and opened those doors?

Colin.

She thought of the determined look on his face when he’d left the cabin last night. She thought of the easy way he’d handled his gun. Colin could help her, but she wasn’t even sure he’d realized she was missing yet.

And her minutes were numbered. She couldn’t rely on him—she had to come up with something else.

Another hairpin turn and Holly slid against something solid. She tried not to fight the movement. She wanted to look limp and helpless so that maybe—just maybe—she could take him by surprise.

“What the—”

The van pitched sideways. Metal shrieked. Holly’s eyes flew open as they slammed into something and her body careened against a hard surface.

Curses erupted from the front. A door squeaked open and she heard shouting outside.

Holly struggled to sit up and immediately felt dizzy. Bags of animal feed had fallen on top of her and she bucked them off.

Rat-tat-tat-tat.

The staccato of automatic gunfire made her freeze. Who was shooting? Holly crawled to the cargo door and sat up on her knees so she could reach the latch with her cuffed hands.

Rat-tat-tat.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she struggled to pull the latch.

A single shot rang out, followed by a hail of machine-gun fire.

Colin!
she thought frantically. Did he not realize what he was up against?

She pressed her weight on the latch. Suddenly, the door swung open and she tumbled backward onto the snow-covered ground. She blinked up at the blue sky and realized she was on an incline and gravity had aided her fall. She rolled to her knees and looked around.

Rat-tat-tat-tat.

Bang.

The shots were somewhere to her right—much too close for comfort. Maybe she should have stayed inside. But if—heaven forbid—her captor managed to kill whoever had run him off the road, she needed to be far away from here when he tried to flee.

A flash of metal caught Holly’s eye. Several guns had slid out when the cargo doors opened. She spotted something big and black and mean-looking. A nickel-plated pistol. And a pair of handguns that looked just like her dad’s.

Rat-tat-tat.

Holly leaned sideways awkwardly and picked up one of the handguns. She had no idea if it was even loaded, but at least it was something. She looked at her surroundings. The empty road offered no cover. There were some woods to her right, but that was where the shots were coming from.

Holly glanced at the road again and decided to risk it. She struggled to her feet and darted across the highway.

~*~

The flutter of movement caught Colin’s eye as Holly sprinted across the road.

Rat-tat-tat.

He heard a high-pitched yelp as she dove into the ditch.

Christ, what was she thinking?

“Holly,
stay down!
”

Colin steadied his arms on the hood of his truck and took aim at the shooter’s hide. He nailed the tree, but the bullet didn’t penetrate.

A flash of muzzle fire to the left. Shit, he’d moved. Colin lined up another shot and hoped to hell Holly would stay low.

Bang.

Another hail of gunfire, and Colin knew his truck was quickly turning to Swiss cheese. This guy was using heavy artillery. He was making his way to the Suburban, too, because his Tahoe was clearly out of commission. Colin knew the shooter’s plan, because it was the same plan he would use if he were stranded out here with a fleet of feds on the way—he was going to make a dash for Colin’s vehicle, kill anyone who got in his way, and hightail it out of here. It was a good plan—and backed up by machine guns, it was a great one. Colin was down to two bullets—not even a spare magazine because he was in one of the ranch vehicles instead of his truck.

Rat-tat-tat-tat.

This storm of bullets was directed at Holly, and Colin felt a swell of anger.

“Holly,
keep low!
”

The gunfire shifted toward him. Glass shattered on the side of the Suburban.

“Turn yourself in, Slater! Every fed in the state is converging on this location!”

It was an outright lie. Colin’s team was fifteen minutes away, and it consisted of two people. Unless they got their hands on a helicopter—highly unlikely—they wouldn’t get here in time. Meanwhile, the real cavalry was in Missoula, plotting another sting operation that was never going to happen.

Two rounds. Colin considered his options. He could slink away from the Suburban, and Slater would probably be deep into Canada by nightfall. Or Colin could try to stall him and hope for backup.

He glanced at the ditch where Holly was hiding. A hush fell over the woods. The only sound was his own heartbeat.

Had she been shot? Was she dead right now or bleeding out in the ditch while he stood here less than fifty feet away?

A flash of green.
Score!
Slater had given away his location—which was much closer than Colin expected.

But now, Colin had the advantage. He had two shots left, and he intended to use them.

~*~

Holly lay on her side in the snow, contorting herself into a pretzel. She had to get her hands in front of her. Without her hands, she was defenseless. She squirmed and strained, doing her best to keep her head down as she frantically attempted to squeeze her legs through the loop of her arms.

Another burst of gunfire had her heart leaping into her throat.
Colin.
The fact that he didn’t return fire couldn’t be good. He was either out of ammunition or wounded.

Bang.

Rat-tat-tat.

Bang.

And then nothing. Only silence.

Holly held her breath, waiting for something—anything—that would indicate which man was still standing.

A car door squeaked and then slammed. She heard a noisy growl as someone gunned the engine. Tires squealed as the Suburban sped away.

“
Holly!
”

And then he was there, in the ditch with her. He tugged loose the gag.

“God, you’re bleeding. Are you okay?” He had a pocketknife in his hand and reached to cut her bindings.

“What happened? Is he gone?” Holly jerked her hands free and scampered to the top of the ditch. She peered down the road, where the white Suburban was shrinking from view.

She grabbed the pistol from the ground and scrambled to her feet. “Quick! He’s getting away!”

“Holly, look at me! Are you hit?”

She squinted down the barrel and fired. The truck veered left sharply. It careened off the road and flipped into the ditch.

“Holy shit! You hit him.” Colin looked at her with disbelief. Then he glanced at her gun “Where did you get that thing?”

Holly’s answer was drowned out by a noisy
whump-whump
overhead. They both looked up as a helicopter suddenly appeared above the tree line.

“Who’s that?” she yelled above the noise.

Colin turned and smiled at her. “Reinforcements.”

Chapter Five

Holly added the last snapdragon to the vase and stepped back to study her work. Not bad, considering. At least the customer hadn’t wanted roses. They were the ultimate Valentine’s cliché, and Holly liked it when men asked for something with a little more flair.

The cowbell on the door rattled and Holly shivered at the icy blast of air.

“I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time.”

She whirled around at the familiar voice. A wave of excitement washed over her as Colin stepped up to the counter.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

He looked her up and down with that glint in his eyes she’d been thinking about for months. “I was in town.” He glanced around the tiny shop, which was wall-to-wall bouquets. “Just thought I’d drop in, see if you were busy.”

He stepped closer, and Holly’s pulse picked up. He was wearing the leather jacket she remembered. His hair was a bit longer, but he’d shaved recently. For her? The possibility made her nerves flutter.

The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. “Are you?”

“What’s that?” She walked around the counter and tried to wipe the grin off her face. She heard a noise behind her and knew her sister had come into the showroom.

“Are you busy?”

“Well, it’s February thirteenth, so… yes, we’re a little busy.”

“I can finish up, if you need to take off.”

Holly turned to see Heather standing in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. Obviously, she recognized Colin—probably because Holly had mentioned him a time or ten during the past several months.

Heather disappeared into the back room and emerged with Holly’s purse and coat.

“Thanks.” Holly took her things and there was an awkward moment as Colin helped her into her coat. He held the door for her and they stepped out into the bitter chill.

“So.” Holly looked up and down the street. It was only five, but already getting dark. She shoved her hands in her pockets. “You were just… in town?”

“Not really.” He set a brisk pace beside her as they headed for the corner. Did he want to go to a bar? A restaurant? She didn’t care—she was just happy to see him. He’d been in contact since the day of Sheriff Slater’s arrest, but it had all been very businesslike.

This felt different.

“So, you weren’t really in town, you just…?” She looked up at him expectantly.

“I came to see you.” He stopped walking, and warmth flooded her as he gazed down at her with those dark brown eyes. “I wanted to give you something.”

He took her hand and folded something into it. She looked down at her palm.

“A bullet?”

“The shell casing from the bullet that missed you. Well, one of them, anyway.”

She looked up at him, puzzled.

“The sheriff took a plea. He’s going to testify against Lopez in exchange for a lighter sentence. Slater isn’t going to trial, so you won’t be asked to testify.” He stepped closer and the look in his eyes made her heart thump faster. “You’re no longer an official part of my case. It’s not even mine anymore. I’ve been re-assigned.”

“So, you came here to—”

He leaned down and kissed her. She felt a jolt of heat as his fingers combed into her hair and she tasted his mouth for the first time. He was hot and strong and—amazingly— as hungry for the kiss as she was. He had been waiting, too. She could tell by the way he pulled her against him and didn’t hold back. Holly didn’t, either. She melted right against him and held on tight. He smelled even better than she remembered and an entire winter’s worth of longing crackled to life inside her. He’d come all the way
here.
For
her.
And the idea of that was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

He pulled back and gazed down at her. “I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

She smiled. “You have?”

“Ever since I watched you stand in the middle of that road and take aim at that tire. It was an amazing shot.” He took her hand. “You’re an amazing woman, you know that?”

Her smile turned into a grin.

“So, if you’re not busy tonight—”

“I am.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. “I’m busy with you.”

*****

LAURA GRIFFIN

New York Times
bestselling author Laura Griffin started her career in journalism before venturing into the world of romantic suspense. Her acclaimed novels have won various awards, including a 2010 RITA Award for
Whisper of Warning
and a 2010 Daphne du Maurier Award for
Untraceable
. Laura’s popular Tracers series continues in 2012 with
Twisted
(April 17) and
Scorched
in the fall. Visit Laura at
www.lauragriffin.com
.