Page 72 of Chasing Grace
He did the opposite, grabbing her wrists and crossing her arms in front of her chest. He hoped the bear hug would prevent any further attempts at turning his features into mush. Convinced she’d be sinking her teeth into the nearest jugular if he let her go, he kept her somewhat immobilized for the time being.
Yeah. He should get a public service award for this shit. Or hazard pay. Her heel came down hard on the top of his boot. Thank fuck for steel toes. By his expression, Mackenzie wasn’t the least bit surprised by Gray’s capabilities for pain and dismemberment.
With a jerk of his chin at the prone figure of his teammate, Mackenzie asked, “Is he dead?”
“No,” Grant grunted, cursing under his breath as she landed another good shot to his shin. He’d be sporting a nice bruise for her efforts.
“That’s a bummer,” the big ass man with the tattered John Deere ball cap said, his grin suggesting he enjoyed watching Gray try to pulverize Grant’s shinbone.
He locked gazes with Mackenzie and spoke in her ear loud enough for everyone to hear. They needed to be ready. The hellcat was about to be let out of the cage. “There’s nowhere to run, sunshine. Go with them now. Okay?”
The fight draining out of her, she sniffed loudly and nodded. Relieved but still wary, he let her go. As Mackenzie reached for her, she ducked to the right, away from her protection detail.
Damn it. Grant lunged for her, and the passenger window on the Shelby shattered. Tackling her to the ground, he rotated their bodies, and she landed cradled in his arms. He felt his cracked ribs separate.
Adrenaline spiking, he kept his body between her and the shooter and looked over his shoulder. Mackenzie moved fast. Laying down cover fire, he silently emptied his gun in the direction the original shot had come from.
With her vitals covered by his back, Grant scooped Gray up, throwing both their bodies behind Adam’s car as another bullet sent up a puff of dust from the patch they vacated.
They were joined a second later by Mackenzie, vaulting over the hood to land in a crouch with Gray between them. “You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, and he palmed the back of her head, kissing her hard on the lips. Then dropping his empty magazine, the man turned all soldier as he jammed in a spare and chambered a round.
Forgetting about the confiscated Glock until the damn thing started sliding down the crack of his ass, Grant fished down his pants, freeing the modified nine-millimeter. High on close-call adrenaline, he wanted in on the game plan.
The noise suppressor was about to come in mighty handy in downtown Sleepy Ville. “So? What’s doing,Rambo?”
Mackenzie leaned around them and signaled for the Suburban. “Cody and Z are circling around to the shooter’s location. Tak will get Gray out of here. And then we’re raining lead on this parade. You good with that?”
“Works for me.”
“We can’t leave Canker Face.” Gray’s frightened gaze swung from man to man and then settled on the one that was hers. “It’s my fault he’s here.”
Duckwalking around her and coming up even with Grant, Mackenzie rolled his eyes out of sight of the concerned citizen. “After we catch up to these rat bastards, you’re going to explain to me why the dumbass is unconscious.”
“With pleasure, asshole.” Peeking through the car’s rear window, he saw the Suburban slide into position, blocking the line of fire. The driver threw open the back passenger door from inside.
Mackenzie jammed his gun home, and ordering Gray to stay put over his shoulder, he gave the “let’s roll” signal with a jerk of his head. In thirty seconds, he had the unconscious man stripped of his gear, a spare magazine flying Grant’s way, and the key fob from the runt’s pocket tucked into his belt.
Then picking up Canker Face by the armpits, he started dragging him to the vehicle. Busted ribs protesting, Grant took care of the lower extremities, and together they folded the unconscious man in half, shoving him into the back seat.
They went back for Gray next, shielding her until she ducked into the front passenger seat. Slamming the door closed, both he and Mackenzie banged on it twice before breaking for the cover of Adam’s car.
Cargo loaded, the Suburban shot into the street, taking off in a cloud of dust.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
“Just because I’msmiling doesn’t mean I don’t want to punch you in the face.” Chase sat behind the wheel of the tricked-out Shelby, grinning like he’d fallen in love. He had, but the car also happened to be one sweet lady too. And she was treating him just right.
“Copy that,” Kincaid said.
Doing one seventy with one hand on the wheel, the other on the six-speed shifter, Chase followed hot on the heels of the shoot-and-run bastards. The closest they’d gotten to anyone who might know Wright’s real identity, they had to catch these assholes and bring them in alive.
Kincaid had opted for the passenger side, yelling something about cracked ribs when the getaway vehicle shot past their location. Chase hadn’t needed any further incentive. Foot on the gas pedal, he’d gone zero to sixty in three-point-five seconds, an instant bond forming between man and machine.
After tossing Z the key to Canker’s van, he’d cranked the car through six gears. And here they were. On a deserted stretch of highway, making like Starsky and Hutch in a high-speed car chase.
It was awesome.
