Page 9 of Unplanned Target

But I want to find my daughter and I’d rather not die doing it, so I’m kind of stuck.

“Does my brother trust you?” I ask.

Owen is quiet for a minute.

“You’re thinking about that a little too hard.” I glance in the side mirror and notice a car is following a little closer than it should be.

“I wanted to give you an honest answer.” Owen’s hand leaves my chest, but goes straight back to my leg, like he wants to be sure he’s got a hand on me, just in case. “I do think he trusts me. It probably pisses him off, but I believe your brother would trust me to keep you safe.”

Well. I guess I don’t really have an option at this point anyway. I’ve got to trust Owen. “Fine. I’ll do what you tell me to.”

“Thank you.” Owen’s hand leaves my thigh and goes to grab something strapped to the side of his. “Hold on.”

I barely have time to register his words before Owen’s boot pushes the gas pedal to the floor and the Jeep lurches forward, accelerating at a speed that has my arms flailing out in search of anchor points. I manage to grip the console with one hand and the door with the other, pressing myself back into the seat as we fly down a road that is not intended for the speed we’re going.

“What are you doing?” We’re going so fast over the rough road that the SUV is bouncing around like crazy. I shove my feet against the floorboard, trying to brace myself so I don’t barf up the little bit of pasta I managed to consume. “We’re going to crash.”

“We’re not going to crash.” Owen’s voice is eerily calm as he unfastens some sort of strap. “I need you to get down now, Miranda.”

“Down? Down where?” There’s nowhere for me to freaking go.

Owen pulls out a pistol and I nearly pass out.

“Forward.” He gently reaches across and uses the hand holding the gun to urge my upper half toward my lap. “Keep your head down. It’s harder for bullets to pierce the body of the Jeep than it is for them to get through the glass.”

“Bullets?”

Oh my God. What the fuck is happening? One minute we were gonna go to a coffee shop and ask to see their cameras, and the next, Owen’s got a gun out and we’re driving a hundred miles an hour and he’s telling me how to not get shot.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Mir. I promise. Just keep your head down.” Owen suddenly turns a corner, the aggressive movement slamming me against the door. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” I hug my knees, trying to stay as low as I possibly can. “What if you get shot?”

“If I get shot I’m going to be really upset.” Owen’s eyes are constantly moving as we continue flying down the road, his whole body strung tight. “It fucking hurts.”

“You’ve been shot?” I crane my neck to try to get a better look at him, but all I can see is the tanned skin of his forearms and his head and neck. None of it looks like it’s had a bullet hole in it. “Where?”

“In Alaska.” He swerves. “Hold on tight.”

I can’t hold on much tighter than I am, but I don’t point that out. Mostly because I’m trying really hard not to barf all over his pretty black interior. I haven’t been a passenger in a car in years and, holy shit, I forgot how car sick I get.

Something pings off the door next to me, making me jump. “Was that a bullet?”

“Can we talk about that later?” Owen jerks the wheel to one side and the tires screech against the asphalt. “I don’t want you to get upset.”

“Get upset?” A weird laugh comes out of me. “I’ve been upset for ten years, buddy.”

Owen chuckles. “Noted.”

He jerks the wheel again and I hear another strange sound. But this one is different from what I’m positive was a bullet hitting my door. This one is louder and a collection of noises happening all at once. Metal crunches and glass breaks as rubber skids across asphalt.

Then it goes quiet.

Owen lets out a long breath as he puts his gun back in the holster on his leg, securing it in place before reaching over to rest his hand on my back. “You hanging in there?”

“I don’t even know how to answer that.” Just a few hours ago I was dealing with dickheads, getting my steps in, thinking the most exciting thing that would happen tonight involved a bottle of wine and my vibrator. Instead I’m with a mercenary, getting shot at, while we try to find my daughter.

Not a great change of plans.