He rocketed up the side of the shelf with inhuman speed and hit the kidnapper low and hard, tearing him off Jolie. The rifle went skidding over the gravel toward the edge. Stina stumbled back while Archer shoved Jolie, folded over and coughing, out of harm’s way.
Someone flashed past Stina and she looked up in time to see Rome land a brutal punch that knocked their attacker’s head back.
The man twisted free with shocking speed and bolted for the helicopter.
“He’s getting away!” Stina screamed.
Below them Sierra opened fire, but it was too late.
The helicopter had already lifted off, clearing the shelf just as the man grabbed hold and hauled himself inside.
It banked hard over the ridge and vanished into the lightening sky.
Stina stood frozen, chest heaving, every part of her shaking now that it was over.
Then Rome was there.
He reached her in three strides and dragged her against him so hard she lost her breath. One arm banded around her shoulders, the other around her waist, locking her to the front of his body like he was afraid she’d disappear if he loosened his grip.
“Jesus…Christ.” His voice broke on the words. “Stina.”
She clutched the front of his jacket and pressed her face into his chest. His heart was pounding as hard as hers. He smelled like cold air and gunpowder and the clean, sharp scent of soap she’d started associating with safety.
“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook.
He reached for her face, saw her bruised cheek and stopped.
“I’ll fucking kill him.” His deadly tone made goose bumps erupt all over her body. “I will hunt him down and kill him.”
Something even darker and more violent than his oath flashed across his face before he buried it. Then he pulled her in again, tucking her against his side so tightly she could barely move.
She closed her eyes and gave up trying to stop her body from trembling. This was exactly where she belonged.
Behind him, Archer had Jolie wrapped in his arms while the rest of the team spread across the road below, shouting orders as they tried to salvage something from the chaos.
But Stina couldn’t focus on any of it, not with Rome’s arms around her. Not with his chest rising hard against the uninjured side of her face and his racing heartbeat in her ear. Not with the knowledge that she was still here, still breathing, because Rome and his team had come for them.
He lowered his mouth to her hair. “I’ve got you.” His voice rough enough to scrape. “You’re safe now.”
For the first time since Rivers came for them in the greenhouse, Stina believed it.
Then memory sliced through her.
She jerked her head up. “Oh god! Rivers!”
EIGHTEEN
Rome had held it together during the terrifying drive through the mountain pass.
He held it together when Stina and Jolie’s kidnapper whipped the SUV onto the side road and damn near sent the vehicle over the ridge.
He held it together on the way back, when Townie told them Rivers was in surgery.
He could fall apart later. Right now he needed to hear every word.
Stina and Jolie sat side by side at the table, talking in stutters that turned into short bursts.
Slowly, as the story unfolded, they talked over each other, filling each other’s gaps and correcting timelines with the efficiency of two people who spent enough time together to know whose memory was sharper on which details.
