Agent Under Siege by Lena Diaz

Author:Lena Diaz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-10-07T20:40:19+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Teagan watched the lights bouncing across the trees. The road faced those trees but ran perpendicular to the front of the shack. They wouldn’t be able to see the truck until it made the last turn and pulled up. But there was no reason for anyone else to come down this road. The killer was back. And when he came inside and saw they were out of their handcuffs, he’d cuff them again. Then he’d make a circuit of the shack and find the small hole that Bryson had started. He’d decide Bryson was too big a liability to keep around. He’d kill him for sure.

And then he’d come for her.

“Kill me, Bryson.” She grabbed his arm. “Please. I can’t do this again. Choke me. Hit me over the head. Something. It will be a mercy killing. Please.”

He shook her hand off his arm. “This isn’t over. You hear me? Don’t you dare give up.” He pointed to the couch. “We have to block the door. As small as this room is, we should be able to jam one end against the wall and the other against the door. He won’t be able to get inside.”

She looked from the lights outside to the couch and back again. “We’d just be delaying the inevitable. What’s the point? I have a better idea. I’ll make him so angry he has to shoot me. Then at least I won’t have to bear his touch again.”

He yanked her around to face him as the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires echoed outside. “All we have to do is break three or four more boards in that closet and we’re out of here. But we have to buy some time. Help me get this couch into place.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her away from the door as the headlights turned toward the shack.

“Grab that other end,” he yelled. “We’ll have to slide it past the hallway to turn it. Hurry.”

She ran to the other end and together they slid the couch across the floor.

“It’s clear,” he said. “Now, turn it, turn it. This end toward the door.”

They slid the couch sideways, one end facing the door, the other the hallway.

“He’s here! He’s here,” she yelled. The truck had parked in front of the cabin.

“Slide it back. We have to wedge it between the wall and the door. Hurry!”

She pushed her end but couldn’t get it against the wall. “It’s too long. It won’t fit. He’ll be able to push the door and the couch will slide down the hall.”

The engine cut off outside. A loud creak sounded. The truck door opening?

She started to shake. “Oh, God. He’s here.”

Bryson leaped over the back of the couch, stumbling and nearly falling before catching himself. Then he limped to her end. He bent down and somehow lifted the couch in spite of his bad hip, his face turning red as he shoved the couch up in the air. Then he dropped it against the wall just past the hallway opening.

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