“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Grace asked in a whisper as they carefully crossed the living room heading for the door to the garage. “It doesn’t matter how many people are watching me, waiting to catch him, he’s going to hurt or kill whoever stands between us. Matthew, I can't let him hurt you.”
“He won't,” he vowed, praying like hell he could keep that promise.
“He might.”
“He won't.”
“He. Might,” she said, pulling her arm free from his as he opened the car door and tried to push her into the passenger seat. “I won't let that happen.”
The stubborn glint in her eyes almost made him smile. She was adorable when she thought she could protect him. Since he knew showing his amusement that the tiny little thing thought she could stop him from protecting her with his life if it came down to it would only antagonize her, instead he dropped a quick kiss to her lips.
“Get into the car, Grace.”
She huffed but did as he asked. “Are we running?” she asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Straight to the precinct.”
“We’re not going to try playing bait again, are we?” There was resignation in her tone, but she didn't complain or rail at him because things hadn't worked out the way they had all assumed.
“No, honey, we’re not. It’s too risky. Emmanuel is unpredictable and seems to have more skills than we’ve given him credit for.”
“I'm going to be put in a real safehouse, aren’t I?” Again, there was resignation and a tinge of pain in her voice, but she uttered no complaints and didn't scream or throw a tantrum.
“Yes.”
“It’s exchanging one prison for another.”
“At least you’ll be alive,” he reminded her as he reached over and covered one of her hands which was resting on her thigh.
“At least I’ll be alive,” she agreed, and turned her hand over so she could lace her fingers with his.
As much as he knew that she would suffer being forced into hiding for real—where there would be no lazing by the pool or runs to the supermarket for dinner—it was really the only option they had left. Emmanuel wasn’t going away until he got what he wanted, and there was no way Matthew was letting him get Grace.
Sending a text to let the others know to lay down cover fire, he put the garage door up and threw the car into reverse. Zooming out of the garage and onto the street, he quickly took off up the road while the cops protecting them did the best they could to lay down some cover fire so he could get away.
Of course, laying down covering fire for a sniper, in the middle of suburbia was easier said than done. Matthew had no idea where the sniper was beyond the direction the bullets had been coming from, but there was a large apartment complex just a few blocks over from the safehouse, so he had to presume that Emmanuel had set himself up there.
If that was where Emmanuel was holed up, then as soon as they managed to get out of his range they’d be safe. He’d get Grace to the precinct, she’d remain there until they had a real safehouse secured, then she’d be moved there. There was a chance he wouldn’t be allowed to go with her, possibly that none of her family would either which meant to all intents and purposes, she would be right back in the same situation he had rescued her from a week ago.
At least this time she wouldn’t be forced to participate in games where you played to the death. Matthew was consoling himself with that fact when the sound of breaking glass surprised him.
A split-second later, pain pierced his chest.
Grace screamed.
The car veered as he lost control of it.
His brain seemed unwilling to provide him with a reason as to why the world was suddenly going black around the edges.
They slammed into something.
More pain.
“Matt?”
Hands touched him.
Sweet, gentle hands.