She jerked back at the uncomfortable, unfortunately familiar, claustrophobic feeling of someone being too close. “Don’t.”

Don’t touch me.

It was too dark to see his expression clearly, but he went still for a charged moment, then stepped back as far as he could, considering they were still linked. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

But that wasn’t the promise she wanted. “So let me go.”

Instead, he turned away. “Let’s go. Almost there.” And they were running again.

From the depths of her pocket, Abby felt her cell phone vibrate. Incoming text message. She glanced at Hawk. He was slightly ahead of her, watching where they were going. That, and the dark night allowed her to pull out her cell without his seeing. She flicked aside the mini credit card attached to the small chain on the antennae in order to see the screen. Watkins. Where are you?

She hit Reply, then hesitated because there was the little issue of trust. She had no idea who to believe. Abby shook her head. No. That didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting free. She hit Send, and off the blank message went. As an SOS. It would have to do.

They came to a clearing that she recognized. They’d gone in one big circle, eastbound, putting them just south of the farmhouse… She looked around but saw nothing with which to help herself. The woods were thick, black as the inside of Hawk’s heart, but still not as scary as, say, being handcuffed to him.

Damn, she wished she had her rifle back. She’d get that, too, along with the key. She was determined.

And terrified.

She tried to keep the panic at bay. After all, tonight was nothing, nothing at all, like her nightmare.

The nightmare that had really happened.

First of all, it’d been daytime, at a gun specialty shop where it’d been suspected the Kiddie Bombers were selling confiscated weapons out of the back. She’d been on duty the day of the raid. In hindsight, it had been just rotten luck. Not so agreeable to the raid, the men had fought back as if they’d known the ATF were coming. Abby had been taken hostage and held in a basement, a cold, dark, dank place that even now, a year later, she could still smell in her dreams.

“I thought you were hurt,” she said bitterly to Hawk’s back, forced to keep her feet moving or get dragged along.

“Just stunned.”

“From?”

“Taking a bullet to the chest.” Slowing to a walk, he grabbed her free hand and pressed it up against his vest, over his heart, forcing her to feel the hole in his vest.

A bullet indentation. “He shot you when you pulled your gun on him?”

“No. He shot me point-blank.”

“He must have known you were wearing a vest. Why didn’t he shoot you where he’d have had a chance at killing you?”

“He tried. But it was dark, and I rolled. Then I pulled a gun on him.”

“That’s not what I saw.”

“Sweetheart, I am not trying to argue with you here, but maybe you should get your eyes checked.”

“You’re saying Elliot drew on you first?”

“Elliot?” Hawk asked, and stopped so unexpectedly that she plowed into the back of him. “You call him Elliot?”

“It’s his name.”

“Sounds pretty chummy.”

Yes, well, after he’d busted into that basement, guns drawn, to find her stripped naked and staring down the thugs who’d just pulled out a set of jumper cables to torture her with, they were definitely on a first-name basis. “We have a…history.”

Hawk just stared at her, his eyes gleaming in the night. Clearly this news had not made his day. “So, you were what, fucking the boss while he was stealing back the confiscated stolen weapons to re-sell them on the black market?”

“You really are an asshole.”

“Just calling it like I see it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Then enlighten me.”

Abby pressed the fingers of her free hand to her eyes and tried to keep a level head. “Why? Why would he do such things, Hawk?”

“Well, connecting the dots, I’d hazard a guess that it’s because he’s the bad guy.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned away.

He sighed and pulled her back. “You want me to believe that lover boy never mentioned any of this when you two were doing the tangle on his sheets?”

Staring up at him, she slowly shook her head, feeling frustration and anger push aside her fear. Good, because she’d sure as hell rather be pissed off than afraid. “You are way out of line, Hawk.”

“Yeah? Then put me in line.” He stood there, his eyes searching hers, not mocking now, just wanting the truth.

But she didn’t have the words. “Just tell me what you think we’re supposed to do now.”

“We need proof of Gaines’s indiscretions. Unfortunately, my rock-solid proof ran off.”

“What?”

“Eighteen months ago I shot the leader of the Kiddie Bombers. It was dark, in a warehouse, but I got him. Tonight, wrestling with Gaines, I saw the scar. Here.” He pointed to his collarbone.

“A bullet hole? But lots of ATF agents have bullet holes.”

“Not undocumented ones. But now we have this.” He patted the rifle. “If the serial number on this baby matches one of the serial numbers on the ATF database, it’s one of the pieces of the puzzle.”

Her mind whirled. “But even if that matches-”

“Yeah, yeah, we still need to tie it to Gaines, I know.”

“If it’s him.”

“Abby-”

“Because from where I’m standing…” She jangled the cuffs. “It sure as hell could still be you.”

She waited for him to defend himself, and though a muscle bunched in his jaw, he said nothing.

“I’m not going to make this easy for you,” she told him.

Rubbing a weary hand over his face, Hawk sighed. “Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

8

“KEEP MOVING,” HAWK DEMANDED, refusing to give in to Abby’s resistance when he was this close. They were headed toward the farmhouse and the trucks he’d seen there. His plan-get to an ATF database.

“Damn it, Hawk. Slow down.”

She was tugging again and probably going to yank them to the ground, which she’d done four times and counting. He had the bloody knees to prove it, which, considering how dead Gaines wanted him, was the least of his worries.

Jesus, he could hardly even wrap his brain around how badly the evening had gone. Logan, down. Gaines, rogue. Abby…definitely not on his side.

He wasn’t sure whose side that put her on.

“Hawk.”

He’d been trying to ignore her, but she sounded panicked and breathless. Not from running so much as hyperventilating, and while that fact brought out some sympathy, it also came with annoyance, because, for Christ’s sake, he wasn’t hurting her.

He’d never hurt her.

Too bad she wouldn’t say the same. “Nearly there.”

To her credit, she kept going, but he knew it wasn’t for him but to get to wherever he was headed and get uncuffed. He appreciated the warrior in her, more than she could know, because his shoulder blades kept itching.

Gaines was out there, armed, gunning for them.

They had to keep moving.

At the edge of the woods, he finally came to a stop. Abby stood as far away as the restraints would allow, so that the chain was pulled taut and the metal was digging into his raw skin. She had to feel it, too, but apparently she refused to even breathe in the same vicinity as him.

Good to know tonight was no different from any other.

He could see the faint outline of the farmhouse that he’d circled around to, and just behind that was a handful of cars. All ripe for the picking because, as he now knew, tonight had been nothing more than a setup.

Which meant he should be able to commandeer one of those vehicles and get them the hell out of there. Exactly where he would get them the hell to was yet to be determined, but one thing was clear-he couldn’t let himself be brought in. Not until he could prove his innocence and Gaines’s guilt.

“I think the truck is our best bet.”

Abby was breathing harshly but not fighting him, which was an unexpected bonus. She had more twigs in her hair and a nasty scratch on one cheek. Her clothes were torn and beyond dirty from wrestling on the ground with him. She’d started the day so neat, too.

Just looking at her had something inside him softening. In a different time and place, he’d have reached over and pulled her close, maybe burying his face in her hair, pressing his mouth to her skin…

But her attention was on the cuffs, as if she could remove them by glare alone. He wished she’d just let it go for now, but she was definitely not the letting go type. “Keep up, okay?”

“I have a better plan. Uncuff me.”

“I can’t.”

“Won’t, you mean.”

“Okay, won’t. You’ll turn me in before I can prove I’m right.”

“You know what? Don’t talk to me.”

Oh, good. She was definitely coming around, surrendering to his charms. “See that truck?” he asked. “We’re going for that.”

Taking that whole not-talking-to-him thing pretty seriously, she didn’t answer. But she was looking at him plenty, sending icy stares that felt like daggers. Probably trying to decide how to murder him, slowly. Resigned, Hawk pulled her toward the fifteen-year-old Ford pickup painted a combo of forest-green and bad-weather rust. He pulled open the driver’s door, which was blessedly unlocked. Putting his hands on Abby’s waist, he bent at the knees to hoist her in ahead of him.

She balked. Of course she balked, but he didn’t have time for this. Now that they were clear of the fire and the chaos, the night was quiet, too quiet, making him extremely uneasy.

“I vote we go back to the van,” she said.

He shook his head.

“I’m not getting into this truck with you.”

She was tired. Scared. He got that. But that would have to be taken care of later, say if they lived, so to that end, he pressed his body into hers, trying to get her inside the cab of the truck. Her hair jabbed him in the eyes, her ass ground into his crotch, neither of which was exactly an unpleasant sensation, but at the contact, she jerked as if shot and jumped away from him, pulling on the cuffs.

“Jesus, Abby. Just do this. Please. Just get in.”

“Uncuff me.”

“Soon as we’re out of here, I swear. I have to jump-start it.”

“Oh, God.” She hunched over, covering her face with her free hand, breathing like a lunatic.

What the hell? He touched her shoulder, and she nearly leapt out of her skin, eyes wide. Wild. Like she was no longer with him.

“Hey.” Hawk lifted his free hand and wondered what was going on. “Hey, it’s just me.”

Her hysterical laugh broke the silence. Up until right then, a part of him, admittedly a sick part, had been enjoying their close contact, the way her body fit to his, the scent of her hair, how when he’d tried to lift her into the truck, her breasts had pressed into his forearm. But this reaction from her, this genuine fear, made him feel like a molester. “I’m not going to hurt you, Abby. I swear it. Just get into the truck, and I’ll-”

“No!”

He understood her reticence, he really did, but she’d screamed this, leaving him no choice but to slide his hand over her mouth.

Of course, because this was Abby, she bit him, and then she was fighting him like a feral cat, tooth and nail. She fought dirty, too, twisting his arm but good as she whirled and tried to punch him in the throat, instead catching him high on his bruised chest, which hurt enough to have him chomping down on both his lip and his frustration. “Abby, stop. I am not the bad guy!”

She stopped fighting and brought her head up, eyes still wide but not so wild. “I swear it,” he whispered, smoothing his fingers along the curve of her jaw. He had no idea when his priorities this night had changed from kicking Gaines’s ass to seeing this woman safe, but they had. “It’s going to be okay-”

Another harsh laugh, this one a half sob, and she yanked at their joined wrists so hard his teeth grated. He began to understand something he’d missed before in the rush to survive-she definitely had something else going on here, something that the handcuffs were only making worse.

But it would have to wait, because for now he had to get out of here before he was discovered, and she was coming with him, period. To that end, Hawk bodily lifted her into the truck, taking another kick to the thigh in the process, swearing as he bent beneath the console to hot-wire the car.

“Hot-wire,” she gasped, still breathless from the fight, as the engine leaped to life. “Not jump.”

“Right.”

“You said jump.”

Had he? “To jump-start it, I’d have needed another car.”