Page 32 of Beautiful Soldier

Footsteps skid against pebbles, and it sounds as if they’re going right by me. I have to make a split-second decision to give my position away. I don’t know who else is out there, but if Johnny and Magnum are having a conversation, it must be fine.

I hope.

“Johnny! Mag!”

Footsteps crunch in the gravel. “Did you hear that?”

“Mag,” I call out.

“Over here!” Johnny yells.

The asshole coughs, and I move the blade back to his neck. I eye the shrub line and then glance back to the guy, darting between the two threats. Finally, a figure steps through the branches at the spot where I came down. Two shadows descend the embankment. The one in the back aims a gun at dipshit’s head.

“Kyla,” Johnny says, feet working over the uneven terrain as he makes his way over. He assesses me, pulling his shirt off and handing it to me when he sees what I’m left wearing. He gently takes the knife from my hand, and I pull the shirt over my head, covering my body again and ripping the already shredded shirt away from me.

“Did he...?” Johnny asks, scanning me for evidence.

I shake my head. “Not sure he could have. Seems like a pussy to me.”

The guy does this weird sort of cough-laugh that’s more gurgle than anything else. “Bitch.”

Mag cocks the gun. “I’d watch what you say if I were you.”

“He told me he’d rather die than tell me who he’s working for.”

Johnny bends, grabbing my scraps of shirt before placing his knee into the small of my attacker’s back. While Magnum holds him at gunpoint, Johnny ties his hands together behind his back, and then kicks him over until he rolls onto his back. “Recognize him?”

Mag peers down, brow cinching. “No.”

“Me either,” Johnny huffs. “We’ve got to blindfold this asshole and get to the safe house.”

Safe house? This is news. I thought the tower was the safe house. An impenetrable fortress. What ever happened to that idea?

“I’ll get us a car,” Mag says. He lifts his shirt, putting his gun in the back of his waistband. He walks by, gaze sliding over me. He, too, searches for injuries. Other than some cuts and scrapes, my right arm is a little sore. I’m pretty sure I used it to catch some of my fall when I came down the ravine.

Johnny beckons me forward, and I move toward him. He puts his arm around my shoulders, and I place my palm on his chest. His skin is cool to the touch.

“Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, and he kisses my temple. “Looks like he got the worst of it.”

The guy is keeping his mouth shut. Smart move.

I find myself looking at him, searching for clues as if I’ll be able to find out who he’s working with. He has to know he’s pretty well fucked right now. Johnny has him, and he’s not getting away.

A short honk comes from the opposite side of the bank. Shortly after, Mag skids down the ravine, and then he and Johnny wrench the guy up, dragging him under the arms up the slope. I scramble to the top. Dirt and mud cling to my hands. Idling on the side of the road is a small car. When he and Johnny get to the top of the ravine, Mag takes his shirt off and wraps it around the attacker’s face, covering his eyes. Looking at a shirtless Magnum and Johnny, I would think I was at some sort of Chippendale show, but the bleeding asshole takes away the effect of that. I knew I hated this guy. I hope this isn’t the only chance I’ll get to see Magnum and Johnny shirtless in the same room at the same time because if it is, I’m going to kill this guy for ruining it.

“I’ll get in the back with him.” Mag drags the guy to the backdoor, shoving him inside none too gently. The two of them in the backseat look like packed sardines because the enemy asshole is easily as big as Magnum.

Johnny opens the passenger door for me, and I slip inside, pulling my seatbelt around me and making sure it locks in place.

Once in the driver’s seat, Johnny starts the car. He places his hand on my thigh and squeezes. When he looks up, he makes the shh motion to me, and I nod knowingly. He doesn’t want the guy to figure out where this safe house is in case he gets away, even though I highly doubt that’s happening.

We ride in silence, which is an opportune time to get my thoughts together. Soon, my adrenaline crashes, and I start to shake. It’s like coming off the worst high. Johnny rubs my leg harder as I tremble beside him. He’s trying to calm me, but I either need to exercise it out or lie down with my eyes closed and zen it away.

We drive away from the city, and I can’t be too sure, but I’m almost positive I’ve seen the same houses a couple of times, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Johnny is not only taking the long way there but also driving around a few blocks in an attempt to throw the guy off. It would surprise me if the guy is even conscious beneath his blindfold, but who knows.

Forty minutes later, we’re in the thick of the forest when Johnny hangs a right, slowing the car. The ruts in the dirt drive bounce the car around, but eventually, we pull into a much more level gravel area.

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