Page 24 of Off the Grid
She was.
McKenzie sped through the door and across pavement, until she heard sticks crunch beneath her feet. She darted between trees, not stopping, not slowing, diving farther and farther into the shadows beyond the lights of the house.
“Over here!”
Agent Alvarez’s voice was a beacon to her ears, and she turned. He stood behind a large tree, firing his gun toward the house. A motorcycle rested against his hip. As soon as he saw her, he lifted his leg over the seat, then revved the engine.
“Hop on.”
It was a death trap, but she didn’t care. McKenzie threw herself onto the bike and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to find solace in how solid and sturdy and invincible he felt. She closed her eyes, buried her face against his back, and focused on the heartbeat thrumming beneath his warm skin as they raced into the night.
- 9 -
Leo
Holy shit! I can’t believe I pulled that off, Leo thought as they sped through the forest. Okay, they weren’t out of the woods yet—literally or figuratively. But the hard part was over.
He’d hid in the trees surrounding the property for nearly four hours before making his move, taking in every detail. There’d been two guards inside the garage at all times and a third that emerged from the house every half hour or so to circle the perimeter. The trees were dense enough to provide cover and the garage was well lit, making it easy to see through the windows. He’d knelt in the shadows as long as he could, until the barest hint of sunrise lightened the sky, slowly shrinking his hiding place. When the second interior guard marched upstairs, Leo took the opening. One-on-one he knew he could win, and he did. He got her out.
Now the only thing left was the getaway.
Leo pushed down on the gas, trying to keep an eye out for tree roots as dawn continued to brighten the sky. McKenzie pressed solidly against his back. Her arms were wrapped in a death grip around his waist—but hey, at least she was finally listening to him. The inability to breathe was negligible compared to the relief bursting like a firework inside his chest.
A break in the trees caught his eye.
“Hold on!” Leo shouted over his shoulder as he swerved around two more tree trunks and then burst through the clearing. He swung the handlebars to the side then slammed the brakes, reaching his right foot out and pressing it against the asphalt to pivot. They cut sharply onto the road, leaving black burn marks in their wake. The tires protested the rough handling.
I know, he wanted to soothe, as though the motorcycle were a child instead of an inanimate object. The way he was treating this ninety-thousand-dollar bike was criminal, and in any other scenario, he’d stop. Right now, there was no time.I’m sorry.
He shifted gears and they jetted forward again.
Banging and screeching noises followed behind. He glanced into his side mirror, spotting the same gray van from before hurtling out of the driveway followed by the red Aston Martin peppered with bullet holes. No gunshots rang in the air, which meant one thing—they wanted McKenzie alive. Leo stored that snippet of information in the back of his mind for another time, along with all the other aspects of the night that made no sense at all—the expensive house, the address that had never come up once in the two years he and Nate had been tracking the Russian mob, the fact that they’d even gone after McKenzie in the first place. It was too much to get into now—he had to stay focused. There’d be time to mull over the facts later.
At least, he hoped there would be.
That Aston Martin was creeping a little too close for comfort.
On this old country road, the only place to go was forward. Leo leaned on the gas and pushed the bike harder, muscles contracting to keep the powerful machine in line. Behind him, a bigger engine purred. They raced—fifty miles an hour, sixty, then eighty, up to a hundred. The trees were a blur. Without goggles, the wind brought tears to his eyes. Leo blinked them away, keeping his grip on the handlebars. The van quickly dropped back, unable to keep up, but the sports car pressed on. Every time he glanced at the side mirrors, those bullet-shaped headlights grew bigger and bigger.
The road swerved.
They started to climb.
The convertible changed lanes, ignoring the threat of oncoming traffic as it crept up. Leo darted his gaze from the mirrors to the street, helpless to do anything as the car pulled alongside them. He glanced over, meeting the driver’s eyes. They promised death. The man reached underneath his jacket and retrieved a pistol. He fired a warning shot that disappeared into the trees. McKenzie’s arms tightened.
Is he bluffing?
Does it matter?
Leo ran through every scenario in a split second. If the man shot McKenzie, she was dead. If he shot Leo, they were likely both dead. A crash at this speed would be fatal. If he was bluffing, well…how long would that last before he got pissed and forgot the game he was supposed to be playing? There were no good options—not when staring down the barrel of a gun. The man straightened his arm, extending the gun closer. Leo glanced forward, calculated the odds, and decided the risk was worth it. He’d never been one to play it safe anyway.
The road turned.
The motorcycle didn’t.
“Hold on!”
He jerked on the front of the bike, lifting the nose as they ran off the side of the road and went airborne. There was no guardrail, so he took a gamble that though the drop looked steep, it’d be manageable. They landed hard. McKenzie screamed. Leo kept hold of the handlebars, using every ounce of strength he possessed to keep the front tire straight as they careened downhill, slipping over dirt and leaves and sticks. They were almost near the bottom. The trees thickened. He pressed the brakes as hard as possible to slow their rapid descent. Something popped inside the bike. Leo looked down for a split second, trying to locate the damage. The front tire hit a rock and they went flying.
