The lorry entered the bend. Heart in my mouth, we followed, and I braced myself for impact, for the ear-shattering bang of exploding types.
But it never came. A low hiss pierced the air, then the screech of brakes, and the shudder of the protesting engine. The lorry rolled over the second stinger. Another hiss, and then it rolled to a stop, gently and utterly disabled.
Fuck. We did it.
There was no time to appreciate the sight of Goon’s hound truck completely incapacitated, though. I glanced at Cash. He met my gaze for a split second, then leapt out of the ditch. I followed, and without looking at each other again, we split. I went for the stinger the lorry had never reached, and he doubled back for the riskier task of retrieving the ones it had.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.I dashed to the stinger and ripped it from the ground, winding it up as tight as I could before sprinting away. Behind me, I heard cab doors open. Shouting. And a commotion that turned my heart upside down, but I didn’t look back. Couldn’t, because both of us getting caught would leave the gang short-handed for the rest of the day.
I kept running until I reached the rally point we’d agreed on if shit got real. My lungs heaved, and my pulse hammered in my ears. I doubled over, chasing breath that wasn’t there, desperately scanning the horizon.Come on, come on. But Cash didn’t appear. Five minutes passed, and then ten. I dropped to my knees and punched the ground, fury ripping through me. If they’d caught him, there was no doubt in my mind they’d hurt him. Cash was stronger than his young face and slim frame suggested, but the Goon squad were heavy set and mob-handed. They’d brought iron bars to the last—
“The fuck are you doing down there?”
I whirled around. Cash stood behind me, coat torn, face flushed, his eyes bright with adrenaline. “Jesus. You’re a damn ninja.”
He grinned faintly. “I try. Are you okay?”
“Areyou?” I stood and moved quickly to examine him, not giving a single fuck that having my hands all over him wasn’t the norm. Beyond his wrecked coat, there was mud splattered up his back, grass in his hair, and a raised cut on his cheekbone, the mark deepening with every second I stared at him. “What happened?”
Cash shrugged. “I got first stinger up, but the second one was stuck under the back wheels. Some wanker caught me as I was digging it out.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Walloped me a couple of times, but this ain’t my first rodeo, man.” Cash grinned. “I got the job done.”
He held up the bag he’d had strapped to his back when he’d appeared this morning. “All stingers present and correct.”
It nearly made up for the bruise forming on his face. My fingertips fluttered over it. The urge to kiss him was again so consuming, I almost actually fucking did it, but we weren’t that far from the road. We had to get gone before the Goon squad came looking for us.
Keeping a sharp ear out for activity behind, we legged it back to Cash’s car. He drove two towns out of our way to stash the stingers for him to collect later—he really had thought of everything—then we slipped back onto the camp.
Meg met us at the gate. She seemed unsurprised to see Cash with me, but I didn’t get a chance to wonder why. “Police are coming. Fletch called from the south road. We’re about to get raided.”
It would be the third raid of the year. We kept nothing incriminating on site, so I’d never worried about it, but if our suspicions about a copper joining the hunt were true, anything could happen.
The gang gathered in the centre of the camp. Cash pulled me aside, his usually calm gaze darting around. “You’ve never used stingers before, right?”
“Never.”
He shook his head. “Then I need to scarper. If they take my name and look me up, they’ll put two and two together, and get a feel for what else you’re gonna be capable of moving forward.”
“For real? You’re that loaded, eh?”
There wasn’t time for Cash to explain. He kissed my cheek, his tongue ghosting over my unshaven skin, then he melted away, leaving me to ponder if I’d dreamed our morning of mayhem.
Chapter Twelve
Cash
I paced the living room, phone in hand, my back to the window, as I tried to block out the fact that it was getting dark and I still hadn’t heard from Rae. Damn it, it had beenhourssince I’d left him to face the police. Scooping the stingers and removing my name from the raid had been the right thing to do for his gang, but the sense that I’d abandoned him cut deep.Everythingcut deep—every glance and touch, every moment we’d spent together. And now his absence from my side.
Myabsence from his back when shit was going off.
Heart thumping, I searched hard for the detachment I’d latched onto when I’d convinced myself that I wished I’d never met him. But it wasn’t there. Nothing was, except a searing anxiety that wouldn’t fade until I knew for sure that he was okay.
The front door opened and closed. Lucky came into the living room, raised an eyebrow, and disappeared.
He came back with a first aid kit. “You’re bleeding.”
