Page 2 of August

With the switchblade open, she tore toward the backdoor. She threw her gaze over her shoulder, her chest cinched with the need for oxygen. A man raced toward her through the kitchen. Gigi let out a grunt as he slammed into her, shoving her against the wall. Her cheek pressed against the cool plaster. His hand on her neck and his weight against her back prevented her from making another noise.

Ice coated her veins.

“We found you, bitch,” he snarled next to her ear.

Tears hit her eyes. He gripped her hair and pulled her away from the wall. The light shining through the window of the back door—escape painfully close yet so out of reach—illuminated a piece of metal in his hand.

He wrenched back her head, exposing the column of her throat. The roots of her hair burned as if they’d been lit with a match. She winced and gave a haggard cry.

Gigi’s life flashed before her eyes as her brain worked at hyperspeed, anticipating the cold metal slicing through her flesh. A burst of adrenaline scorched her veins.

Not today. She wasn’t dying like this.

She jammed her elbow backward and into his ribs.

“Oof,” he hissed. The hand holding her hair loosened and she whirled around and plunged her switchblade into her attacker’s abdomen.

Blood spurted. He gurgled in pain, grasping his midsection. Warning bells screeching in her head, she flung herself down the short hallway. She yanked open the door after unlocking the deadbolt and sprinted into the grass. The blades tickled her feet and the October wind cooled her flaming skin.

Fear told her to sink to her knees. Told her there was no use running. He’d find her. But she wouldn’t give in. Her muscles ached and her chest screamed as she pushed herself across the expansive lawn, waiting for a bullet or a hand to send her to her death.

The knife heated her palm as if it’d been coated with acid. She gasped and panted as she pumped her arms and legs. She needed to get out of sight. If she ran across the field to the woods, she’d have a shot at losing him but would have to wander in the forest for miles before reaching a road or any sign of help. She’d cut her assailant good, but not enough to stop his pursuit. The other side of the property was her best bet. A thicket of trees separated Joe’s yard from the neighbor’s farmland.

She’d get to the outbuilding first. If she could make it there and then to the strip of pine trees before he found her, she might survive—for now.

She couldn’t think about tomorrow. Couldn’t acknowledge that the cartel had found her in witness protection and that if she wasn’t safe here, she wasn’t safe anywhere.

Nope. Not going there tonight. She shoved that thought firmly from her mind and skidded around the dry, sun-kissed wood of the outbuilding. Sticking close to the wall, she moved to the small enclosure protecting bundles of cut wood. Reaching behind the stack, she yanked out the black backpack Joe had stowed there for emergencies.

The door to the house squeaked open. She gasped and moved closer to the wall, hiding her body behind the wood. A man stood dressed in black from head to toe. Even his face was concealed in a black ski mask. Agitation vibrated her nerve endings as she forced herself to stay low and watch.

A gun weighed down his right hand. His left cradled his abdomen. A white towel had been tied around his waist. Even from here she could see the tension in his large, fit body. Only about fifty feet separated them. Not nearly enough. She might be in top-notch shape, but judging by his size and physique, he’d outrun her. He’d be slower in his injured state, but maybe not slow enough.

He took a step forward, as if he could smell her fear on the wind. Her stomach bottomed out, hysteria hot and volatile against its lining. A sound snapped his attention to the right, and he veered in that direction, toward the woods.

Now was her chance. Keeping close to the wall of the outbuilding, she moved toward the trees.

Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the house that’d been her home for the last four months. Joe. Her heart ached at the thought that he’d died protecting her. He was either seriously injured or dead because there was no way that soldier of a man would rest, no matter how injured, while she was in danger.

She sucked back the emotion that threatened to surge forward. She had to follow Joe’s orders.

It was the only way to stay alive.

She entered the thicket, taking great care not to sway the branches too much. She moved a few rows deep then pivoted in the direction of the road. The backpack pulled down her shoulders. Joe had filled it with provisions, water, and cash and had instructed her to put clothes and comfortable shoes inside the bag as well. Before, she’d thought him ridiculously paranoid.

Now, not so much.

A sob made her throat itch. She sucked it back. With her hand still wrapped tightly around the switchblade, she moved down the narrow row of dirt. Pine needles tickled her exposed arms and neck, making her skin tingle and burn. Her pulse pounded against her temples.

She took a deep, shaky breath. The noise made her wince, but if she didn’t bring in more oxygen, she’d pass out.

Bugs hissed and cicadas called, so damn loud she was afraid they were alerting the predator as to where to find her. That’d be her luck. Insects turning against her. If she survived this, she’d buy a lottery ticket.

Smoothing her thumb over the wooden handle of the blade brought fresh tears to her eyes. Memories assaulted her. Four months ago, she’d had only minutes to say goodbye to her twin sister, Ivy. The agents had been waiting to whisk her away from everything she knew and loved and into witness protection.

Then there’d been him.

The nonchalant asshole who consumed her dreams and still held a piece of her heart. He’d stood in front of her, his green eyes intense, his freshly shaven jaw unrelenting and... angry. At her or the situation, she’d never know. Regardless, she’d just wanted to throw her arms around him. To ask for his protection and not the government’s. To ask him to take her away from the danger. Would he have? Maybe, maybe not.

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