The gentle sway of Atlas’s steps calmed her nervous system. A deep chill shook her body, but fatigue won the fight. Her eyes drifted closed.
He didn’t stumble once. Didn’t break stride. Briefly she thought about his shoulder and leg injuries, but if either was bothering him now, he showed no signs.
“We swam to shore. Our boat’s anchored a quarter mile away. We’ll have to wait around a bit until he?—”
Crack, crack!
Gunfire erupted over the water. Atlas cursed and ducked off the path into the foliage. Viper joined them, and Havoc ran toward the steps leading to the beach.
“What do you see?” Atlas hissed.
Viper’s back blocked Atlas and her from the beach. He had his gun trained in front of him.
Hysteria formed a tight ball in her belly. She fought the urge to wiggle out of Atlas’s arms for fear of distracting him or bringing attention to their whereabouts.
“Shots fired from the beach,” Viper said tersely.
“No shit,” Atlas said with a scoff.
Viper grunted and spoke low—into a microphone? She couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t seem to be speaking to Atlas.
“Rogue’s in the water. There’s a yacht with a couple men. He said he got away and is swimming for our boat.”
“Ohmigod. Willy mentioned someone was coming here . . . for me, I think.” The events of the night were a muddled web stuck to the corners of her brain.
“Christ,” Atlas mumbled. His hands tightened on her side and the backs of her thighs.
“Havoc, what’s your 20?” Viper said softly, confirming they in fact had microphones.
Anxiety sat heavy on her throat. She couldn’t hear a word from Havoc, but at least there wasn’t any more gun?—
Four shots rang out.
She jumped in Atlas’s arms and clapped her hands over her ears. He crouched and sat her on his lowered knee while reaching for something in a holster at his hip.
A beat later, he produced a handgun.
Footsteps ran up the wooden stairs. More shots fired. Molly squeezed her eyes tight, praying none of Atlas’s team would get hurt because of her.
Viper said something else into the mic.
Atlas splayed a hand on her back. His palm was warm and steady. “Keep your head down, Molly,” he said softly.
He didn’t need to tell her twice. She kept her face close to his chest, inhaling his scent and praying Rogue made it to the boat.
“They’re coming up the path,” Viper said. “Stay put. I’ll take them out.” He moved out of the trees, and his gun exploded with shots.
Molly cringed. She couldn’t see what was happening, but the continual firing told her Viper had to be okay.
Something whistled by her head. She stifled a shriek.
Atlas cursed and laid her on the forest floor, squishing his body over top of her. Her face was too close to his chest to read his expression. The wet ground chilled her back.
The shots stopped.
Dread thundered loudly in her ears. The silence around them was almost more sickening than the gunshots. “What’s happening?” she whispered. Fear pinched her heart. She dug her fingers into Atlas’s vest, clinging to him for dear life.
“They’re looking for us,” he muttered above her head. “Stay down and be quiet.” He shifted off her, but she grabbed at his chest, pulling him down to face her.
