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“You cannot allow yourself to get caught. They want you alive, but they want me dead.” I shake my head in denial, and before I can say a word, Travis places two forefingers over my lips, preventing me. “If for some reason I go down, you’re going to have to go on without me,” he repeats. “Don’t stop until you’re safe.” My eyes begin to water, and I feel shaky all over again. “Promise me that you will.”

“I promise.” I will never leave you behind. He seems satisfied with the half-sentence I spoke aloud, and curtly nods.

“Remember, we’re going to duck and weave together, and whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand, all right?”

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity, and hold the air in for a minute, psyching myself up for the unknown dangers that lay ahead. I can’t help but think the moment we step out from the walls of this cabin, we may be leaving together, but it feels like a farewell. I don’t think things will ever be the same between us again. I’m sure of it.

My stomach plummets, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I lose my breath over the sensation and grab my stomach, wanting to double over and heave.

“Uh-huh, baby. You can tamp that shit back down right now,” Travis commands in a militant voice. He grabs my hand from my belly and squeezes it to the point of pain as he pierces me with a no-bullshit glare. I’ve never seen a man look so battle-ready before, but if this is the look, he is wearing it in spades.

He’s able to turn the doorknob with the pistol still gripped in his hand. His eyes then scan the perimeter of the outside as his jaw muscles flex. “On the count of three, be ready to bolt.” He never counts to three. He immediately gives my hand a hard tug, pulling both of us out into the bright sunlight. We both burst into a full-on sprint, and I know without a doubt we could run faster if he would just let go of my hand, but apparently, he’s not going to take any chances of me slipping through his fingers. Everything becomes a blur around me, and all I can do is focus on moving my legs as fast as humanly possible.

I hear the first shot ring out as it makes a whizzing sound, slicing between Travis and me. He yanks me hard into his side, forcing me to move with him. I almost lose my balance, stumble, and fall. My heart is pumping out a ridiculous amount of adrenaline, and I feel nothing but terror.

“Weave, baby,” Travis yells.

Shit, I am weaving! I want to scream, but each breath is consumed with the task at hand. With every leap forward I take, my feet fumble over the uneven ground. Even though we’ve practiced this a million times, I feel clumsy.

Suddenly, Travis’ hard body pushes back into mine, forcing me to the left as he yells out again, “Keep the pattern! Focus!” Somehow, I gain my bearings, and all the training finally kicks. We continue to move in a zig-zag pattern over the open stretch of ground until we reach the edge of the forest.

The morning sun coming up over the forest is almost blinding as we reach the edge of trees. I grit my teeth as my left arm snags and scrapes over a thicket of thorny vines. I feel hundreds of tiny needles digging into me, tugging at my arm as if they want to hold me back. I let out a loud grunt, but I don’t have time to look or think about how much skin I left behind on those vines.

I almost feel relieved when we enter the thickness of the wooded trail, thankful to have some cover. Hopefully, we’ll make it to the bunker unscathed.

His death grip on my hand keeps my momentum moving forward at an ungodly pace. He doesn’t even grunt when his big body rips through a set of vines. He’s like a human machete, and it’s all I can do to keep my feet landing on solid ground as he pulls me along. There are so many dips and unforeseen potholes in which either one of us can slip and twist our ankles, but somehow we’re able to avoid them.

We’re about to the halfway point in reaching the bunker when I hear a loud thud, and then Travis begins to lose his balance. His feet begin to falter, and before I know it, he’s pulled me down to the ground with him. I grit my teeth together, expecting the impending fall to hurt like hell.

We both plummet to the ground, colliding against the forest floor as a loud oomph escapes from my lungs, stealing the last bit of air I had. The only good thing about the impact is it’s layered with dead foliage to help break our fall.


Tags: J.C. Cliff The Blyss Trilogy Erotic