Page 80 of Ride Hard
Chaser
Iclosedthe door behind me and gritted myteeth.
Sloane was never meant to find out. I was meant to deliver her to her father as promised, then things would go back to the way they were before I left California. At least, they were supposedto.
I hadn’t bargained on a lot of things in my life. Least of all meetingSloane.
A cough drew my attention, breaking me out of my spiraling thought pattern. My gaze slammed into a familiar face, and I growled. Ginger hair, poor choice in clothing, ratty beard, eyes full of murder, and a perverted desperation for non-consensual fucking. What had Sloane called him?Pube Face. I got the resemblance now I was looking for it. His face looked like a pussy covered in coarse, ginger pubichair.
He was standing at the top of the stairs, smiling at me in triumph. Instantly, I pulled my gun and took a purposeful step towardhim.
Sensing my reaction, Ginger retreated down the stairs, and Ifollowed.
Sloane would be fine as long as she stayed put like I told her. Kept the door locked. Tried nothing stupid. There was nowhere for her to go on a movingtrain.
Leaning against the wall, I twisted around the corner, pointing the gun down the stairwell.Clear.
Rage burned through my veins as I descended, my shoulder banging against the wall as the train swayed. The moment I reached the bottom, a hand shot out and grasped my wrist, slamming it to theside.
I grunted as Ginger collided with me, his elbow striking me on the temple. I shoved him away, and my grip loosened on the gun. He wrenched my wrist as he stumbled backward, twisting until my fingers loosened, and the firearm clattered to thefloor.
Ginger was limping slightly, giving away his stab wound was still a long way from healing. How many days had Sloane and I been on the road together? It was bordering on two weeks, give or take. Stab wounds didn’t heal thatfast.
We eyed each other for a long second, then he pulled a knife from his pocket and held it out in front of him. My gaze flickered to the gun lying between us. I could make a play for it, but it was unlikely I would lift it in time to fire before he stabbed me. I had to get the knife away fromhim.
I had to put an end to him before he got me. Otherwise, Sloane was donefor.
Ginger lunged, and the knife came with him. Metal flashed, and I flung my body to the side, but there was nowhere to go. I grunted in pain as steel stabbed into my thigh, embedding into my flesh, and I fell back against thewall.
Stunned, I reached for the gun, but Ginger kicked it away as he strode toward me. Leaning over my stunned body, he grabbed my hair, his expressioncontorting.
“Eye for an eye, bitch. How does itfeel?”
He slammed my head against the wall, and the world blurred. When he ripped out the knife, I hissed, not giving him the pleasure of hearing me howl in pain. And when he shoved me onto my side and smashed my head into the ground, I knew I was agoner.
I’d been lured into a trap. They knew we were here. Theyknew…
I shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, I thought to myself as my thigh burned, and my head swirled.Now she’s on herown.
She’s alone, and she hates me. Shethinks…
My head collided with the floor again, and the world plunged intodarkness.
* * *
“Hey…”
I stirred, my eyes taking their sweet time adjusting to thebrightness.
“Hurry up, and take the photo already,Gunnar.”
I blinked, the camera was heavy in my hands. The sun shone overhead, and the air was full of the salty tang of the ocean. Focusing on the woman in front of me, my limbs wentnumb.
“Madison?”
The wind was tossing her chestnut hair around, and a strand caught on her pink lips. She swiped it away and laughed, the sound pulling at myheart.
“You’ve had too much sun,” she said. “Just one more picture, and we’ll go back to the car, Ipromise.”
