Range slumped back against the wall and slid down. Did a perimeter check. He looked up through the hole in the ceiling at the blanket of stars. Recalled sea spray and ocean swells that somehow seemed to magnify the stars at night. Though he’d loved that view, he’d decided it was time to put dirt beneath his boots and some meaning to his name. And distance—emotional, mental, and physical—between him and Canyon.
Jazani twitched in the sleeping bag. A whimper. Then a murmur.
Something snagged his periphery. He snapped his gaze to the gap in the curtain door. Saw a shadow moving over the terrain.
“No,” came a soft murmur.
Eye on the shadow, ear on Jazani, Range knew the worlds would collide if one of these two did not yield. If she got any louder—
“Please!” she hissed in a half cry, half-angry tone.
He went to a knee. Angled toward the sleeping bag and touched her toe.
She whimpered. “Please … Atia …”
With a huff, he edged into the confined space. “Hey.” Had to practically hover above her, since being louder wasn’t an option. “Hey.”
Sucking a breath, she snapped out a hand. Caught his wrist and yanked him forward. Their skulls cracked and Range dropped on her with a curse.
Though he couldn’t see her eyes in the darkness, he sensed the way her body went rigid. What likely went through her mind seconds before her hand struck out at him.
Mercifully, he caught it. “Stop,” he hissed. Shifted, but there was no way to gain propriety in a one-man tent. “Kasra,” he growled. “Someone’s coming.”
She stilled beneath him, her breath rising and falling.
Just then, they heard whistling.
And somehow …somehowhe saw the whites of her eyes bulging. “Don’tmove,” he whispered against her ear, knowing he couldn’t move without potentially giving them away. He pushed his thoughts away from her curves against his, and the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Her wide gaze and shallow breaths.
Deciding the newcomer was still far enough distant not to hear his quiet extrication from the tent, he planted his hands on either side of her head and pushed up, lifting his weight off her. Couldn’t help but notice the way she stared at him.
The swish of his tactical pants seemed crazy-loud against the sleeping bag. Slid out of the tent, swiveling around in a fluid motion as he brought up his Sig Sauer. Glided to the entrance and shouldered the wall. Saw the man now less than fifteen yards from their shelter.
Whistling, calling, he was coming straight at them.
Keep moving. Don’t look here … don’t look here …Range willed the man. He did not want to have to kill this man but neither could he let him compromise their position. Endanger the HVT.
The man stumped closer … ten yards … five …
Range slowed his pulse. Thought through how he’d hide the body. They’d have to leave immediately. Steal a vehicle. Get as far away as possible as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, Jazani hadn’t moved. Or breathed, it seemed. He couldn’t afford to look at her, not with the—
The mattress against the window shifted beneath the urging of the wind. Saw the man’s shoulder. Tricky shot. He heard Jazani’s breath catch. Prayed the guy did not.
As stealthily as possible, every muscle contracted, taut, Range shifted. Eyes locked on the target. Ready to silence him before he could shout for help.
The man snapped his head to the left.
Range applied pressure to the trigger.
A laugh barked into the night. Then the man growled as he turned around, muttering something about a goat.
Easing back, peering through that sliver of space, Range saw the man hauling off a goat.
Jazani huffed a breath. But didn’t say anything.
That’d been too close. It was time to move. Once the man was out of sight, Range grabbed his ruck. “We need to go. Now.”
