Page 153 of Risky Passion

A twig snapped in the bushes behind me. Sharp. Out of place.

I froze and shot my gaze toward the vegetation beyond the shack. A person darted between two trees in the distance.

Fuck!

I scrambled across the sand, but my legs were like bricks.

How did they find me?

Fuck. Fuck!No.I’m not done yet.

CHAPTER 35

B

My heart thunderedin my chest as I crawled up the steps on my hands and knees. My fucking legs were like rubber, every joint screaming. My body ached. My mind careened from one question to the next.

How did they find me?

Who are they?

How will I bury Alice now?

Will I get to my gun first?

Panting like a dog, I dragged myself across the floor and grabbed the strap of my bag, yanking it down from the counter. The contents spilled across the floor. Car keys, Alice’s lipstick, my one little pill, and the gun all skittered across the wooden floor.

I lunged after the gun, scraping my knees on the worn timber. My fingers closed around the grip as I rolled onto my side to face the door.

“Don’t fucking move,” a man yelled as they poured in like a fucking army, guns aimed and ready to shoot.

Three women. Six men. And the meanest-looking dog I’d ever seen, all muscle and spit, snapping at the lead that was tethered to the fucker who had dug up Alice. Jaxson Foster. The bastard I’d ordered Cooper to kill.

“Put the gun down!” three of them shouted at once.

I raised the gun and pressed it to my temple.

They froze.

“Beatrice. No. Don’t.” Cobra leaped forward on his metal leg. I knew him well; he was one of the monsters from Alpha Tactical Ops. The bastards who killed my boys.

“Get back,” I yelled, hating how my voice shook.

A woman stepped forward. She was tall, blonde, and calm in a way that pissed me off.

"My name's Tory," she said. "Tory Anderson."

I blinked. Tory Anderson, the pilot? The one I sent Eddie to kill?

"Stay back," I barked.

"It's over, Beatrice," Jaxson said, yanking the lead as the fucking dog lunged forward, showing me its fangs. "Put the gun down."

I gripped the gun tighter.

Tory crouched down, slow and steady, like she was approaching a wounded animal. She met my eyes. "We know about the orphanage," she said. "We know what happened to you."

"You know nothing," I snapped, tightening my finger on the trigger.

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