Page 127 of Axe-ing for Trouble
Not Jude.
He wore a vest, and there was a shiny badge hanging around his neck.
“Mila, it’s Special Agent Portnoy,” he said. “Can you get up?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but pain ricocheted through my head.
He was FBI. That made sense. They really had shown up. My intel was right all along.
But where was Jude?
“Let me help you.” He held out a hand. “I’ll get you to safety. You’re okay now.”
With a slight nod that made my head spin, I reached for his hand and tried to sit up.
As I was working up the strength to pull myself to standing, my hand still locked in his, the sleeve of his uniform shirt shifted.
On his wrist, wrapping around the outside of his right hand, was a tattoo. Thick trunk, spiny branches.
A yew.
Chapter41
Jude
Iwiped the dirt from my stinging eyes. Where the fuck was Mila? The noise had escalated to a roar, with shrieking tires and shots ringing through the trees.
My head was fuzzy and a searing pain tore through my thigh. I pressed a hand to the injury, and when I discovered the blood, my heart dropped.
My jeans were torn. All I could see was blood and dirt.
But none of that mattered. Mila was all I cared about. I had to find her. Protect her.
I got to my feet and grasped a sapling to steady myself. I scanned the area for Mila, somewhat relieved to see law enforcement flooding the clearing. There were people everywhere. I limped toward the action, calling her name as I maneuvered down the small embankment toward where the trucks were parked.
She had to be here. She had to be okay. I wouldn’t entertain any other option. I would find her and I would get her out safely.
The police were so busy slapping cuffs on the men who hadn’t run and chasing those who had that they paid me no mind as I limped toward the action.
I was cresting a small hill when I saw her. She held her shoulder as she walked quickly toward the building with a man wearing a vest and a badge.
I let out a sigh of relief. Good.
I picked up my pace, practically jogging, ignoring the unbearable pain. She was safe. I just needed to get to her.
As they turned a fraction, I recognized the man she was with. Portnoy.
Even better. I didn’t like the guy, but surely he’d keep her safe.
I slowed to an awkward walk and stumbled out of the way of trucks speeding from the scene. I rounded the building in the same place where Mila had a moment ago, finding several men on the loading dock. They were hefting massive rubber totes into a truck.
And the director of the FBI field office in Portland was standing right alongside them.
My stomach dropped.
The hand Portnoy had on Mila’s shoulder was not protective like I’d thought. No, he was pushing her toward the building.
I took off running again.
