Page 17 of Fully Loaded

“We need a plan.” She dropped her hands from her face. “If we can find out who hired Sven, then we’ll at least have a name to report. As of right now, if we get caught with this formula, we’re going to take the rap and no one will believe that anyone else was involved.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“How?”

His thumb rolled over the sensitive joint at her elbow and his mouth split into a wide grin revealing his perfect white teeth. “Fuck if I know. You’re always the brain of the operation.”

Butterflies beat against the lining of her stomach and the corners of her lips tugged into a smile. She opened her mouth to reply but a movement beyond Brock’s shoulder caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes as a man with his gaze trained on her disappeared behind a wall of books.

“Uh, Brock. I think we’re being followed.”

His fingers chomped into the tender flesh at her arm. “Don’t look. There’s someone in the east corner watching us too.” His chin dipped to her ear. “We need to get out of here.”

She pressed her toes into the carpet, ready to fling her chair backward on Brock’s word.

It didn’t come.

“What do we do?” she whispered.

He took her hand and pressed the drive into her palm. “Go to the bathroom.” He nodded to the restrooms, which were ten feet from their table. “Lock the door. I’ll divert them.”

Panic fired down her body. She grabbed his wrist. “No. It’s too dangerous.” She didn’t fight the desperation clawing at her throat.

“We don’t have a choice. They’re going to make a move if we don’t.” He pried her fingers off his wrist and cupped the base of her neck in his palm.

Her senses buzzed and goosebumps erupted over her skin. The laser focus of his hazel irises landed on her face and stilled. A muscle jumped at his throat and his jaw moved from side to side, as if he were at war with himself. Her body screamed at her to grab him, to take his mouth in hers and forget all the shit that had happened in the past. Tears dampened her eyes and she reached for his shirt, snagging the material. He was strong, capable, and one of the smartest men she knew—but without a gun and against the killers who’d been after her, he probably wouldn’t stand a chance.

All to protect her.

“Brock, please?—”

“If there’s a window in there, get out and meet me at the car.” He slipped the keys into the pocket of her sweater. The weight of them pulled at the material. “Be careful.” He pressed his lips to her temple, grabbed her elbows, and guided her to her feet. “Go now,” he barked, his voice hard.

She stood, rounded the table, and kept her head down as she sailed to the bathroom. When she turned to shut the door behind her, she saw one of the men charging across the library, a gun aimed at her.

“Get down!” Brock’s shout sent everyone in the room into a frenzy. Screams filled the space, echoing off the old walls and wooden bookcases. Brock threw a chair at the man advancing on her.

Crack!

The bullet hit the doorframe and drywall littered her face. She screamed and slammed the door shut, twisting the lock into place. Her pulse galloped in her chest and her skin turned cold. She backed away from the door, her hands cupped over her mouth and tears clouding her vision.

No, no, no. There was no way Brock would make it out of there alive.

Chapter

Seven

Who the hell are these guys?

Brock charged the guy he’d just thrown a chair at. The man had gotten off a shot—he’d kill the bastard if he’d hit Dani. Worry pushed to the forefront of his mind, but he kicked it away. If he didn’t get rid of these guys, he and Dani both wouldn’t make it out alive.

Regaining his balance, the shooter turned toward him. Brock took in his appearance: jeans and leather jacket, close-cropped hair, sharp brown eyes.

The guy positioned the gun in front of him and Brock dove for his midsection.

Crack!

Pain ripped through Brock’s right shoulder. He grunted and connected with the shooter, taking him down. Heat spread across his bicep and radiated up his neck. Rage filled his veins, and he pressed his forearm into the asshole’s throat, keeping his weight distributed over the rest of his body.