Her wrists burned from the zip ties. Her shoulders ached and her mouth tasted like adhesive and panic. But her mind was clear.
When the truck slowed, adrenaline made her heart kick hard enough to hurt.
“What’s the fastest way to your bag?”
With a mumbling noise behind the tape, she lifted her chin toward the set that was a blur of bright lights in the darkened landscape. After sitting for long hours on set, she knew Church spent most of his time around the structures on the left.
While she couldn’t risk giving Lucian an opening to sneak up on Church, she had to steer him where people would be—where the actors gathered, where security would be patrolling.
Where Church would be.
And earlier that day, she’d watched the crew set up the pyrotechnics for an explosion scene. The grip, Luke, had walked her through the setup, explaining how it would all go off in sequence.
Lucian kept driving, barely slowing as he angled the truck toward the set where she’d directed him.
“Where?”
“Mmm mmm!”
“The tall black shapes?”
“Mmm!”
If the bright lights blinded her, they blinded him too. She just prayed Church wasn’t operating blind.
Her pulse spiked as the truck rolled closer.
Too close. Too fast.
They weren’t slowing for the parking area.
The production lights flooded the windshield, turning everything blinding white. For a second, she couldn’t make out anything beyond the glare—but soon shapes formed and she picked up movement.
Then a familiar black frame stepped out of the shadows like he’d been carved from them.
Relief slammed her so hard that her mind spun.
Through the windshield, she locked gazes with Church, willing him to read everything she couldn’t say through the tape slapped across her mouth.
Help me!
Lucian didn’t slow, but she felt a shift in him, the way his body tightened as he went on alert.
Her window of opportunity was closing. She had seconds to make this work.
Come on. Take the bait.
The truck lurched as Lucian stomped the brakes hard.
Her mind tilted as fear gripped her tight. Lucian turned his head, scanning the white haze. He threw open the door and cold air blasted in.
Lucian slipped out of the truck in a controlled movement. Then he was reaching back in for her.
Pain exploded through her arms as he yanked her out by her bound wrists, dragging her across the hard console and the driver’s seat. Her boots hit the ground wrong and her knees buckled for half a heartbeat before she righted herself.
She refused to cry out even though it hurt like hell.
Lucian hauled her tight against him, his grip on her arm bruising. When he angled his body so she stayed between him and the set, she realized he was using her as a shield.
