“But we need to help Saxon. We need to find out why the hell someone is after Ms. Ward.” They had to find out and stop the SOB.
Gary nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m on it,” Tracy said.
They rushed away, and Victor turned back as Taggert was hauled out in a body bag.
***
Saxon stretched out on the floor. His hands were behind his head, the only cushion that he had. He’d spent the night in much worse places. Much better ones, too.
Elizabeth was asleep. Her breathing had finally evened out, and she’d escaped her fears as she sank into her dreams. He wondered if she’d have good dreams or if nightmares would come to haunt her.
Saxon had one dream. The same dream he’d had for years.
Yeah, I do…I want to get the hell out of undercover work. I want to stop looking over my shoulder every moment and wondering if I’m going to blow my cover. I want something good. Something not tainted by evil…something that is mine.
The flash of headlights illuminated the motel room, and he tensed. A car door slammed a few moments later, and he heard the thud of approaching footsteps. But those steps didn’t stop at room number thirteen. They kept walking, and some of the battle-ready tension eased from his body.
He shifted his position a bit, and Saxon closed his eyes. He should try to get a little sleep, too. Victor would be checking in soon, and then their time at the no-tell-motel would be at an end. It would be—
The floor squeaked, the faintest sound that could have just been the building settling. It could have been nothing, but Saxon knew the squeak for the threat it was. His eyes shot open and, in the dark, he could just make out the shadowy form that had slipped through what should have been a locked connecting door to the room. That figure was rushing toward the bed.
You don’t even see me on the floor, do you, asshole? That was the guy’s mistake. Saxon yanked out the knife from his boot, and he threw it. The blade sank into the fellow’s shoulder and he let out a pain-filled yell.
The sound immediately woke Elizabeth and she jerked up-right with her own scream.
But Saxon was already moving. The knife hadn’t taken out their unwelcome visitor, and the guy was lifting his weapon. Saxon launched his body at Elizabeth and they rolled right off the bed even as the blast of gunfire filled the room.
When they hit the floor, he was on top of Elizabeth, their bodies pressed intimately close. “Don’t move,” he ordered, but he didn’t have time to make sure she obeyed. Keeping low, he rushed back toward the jerk who’d snuck into the room—the jerk who was way too damn trigger happy. Saxon moved fast and used his strong night vision to his advantage. When the guy tried to swing his weapon toward Saxon, it was too late. He grabbed the guy’s wrist, twisted until he heard the snap, and the gun fell to the floor. Then Saxon yanked the knife from the guy’s shoulder and put it at the fellow’s throat.
That move stopped the idiot from fighting him.
“Who the hell are you?” Saxon demanded.
The lights flashed on around him. What the hell?
He glanced back over his shoulder. Elizabeth had moved. She was standing up, and she’d been the one to turn on the lights.
The guy in his grasp started laughing. “Doesn’t matter who I am. You’re the dead one. Dead, dead—”
Saxon yelled, “Get down!” to Elizabeth at the exact same moment he yanked the laughing bastard in front of him, using the guy as a human shield. A second later, gunfire erupted, littering the motel room. The man’s body jerked against Saxon when the bullets hit him. Bullets that had been intended to kill Saxon…and Elizabeth.
When the gunfire stopped, he dropped the guy. The man was still alive, but Saxon wasn’t sure how long that would be the case without medical intervention. Saxon crawled for Elizabeth as fast as he could. Be alive. Be alive! Once the gunfire had erupted, he’d heard no sound