Free Lethal Consequences by Elisabeth Naughton Page B

vineyard, blinking back the sudden wetness in her eyes.
    Common sense told her that if there were guards in the towers above, watching for any kind of movement, they might see her make a break for it, could fire on her from above, and she could be dead within seconds. But if she stayed here, cowering in the corner and didn’t take a chance, she might never be free.
    She’d broken free before. Her mind flashed back to that Conex container she’d been trapped in after she’d been abducted three months ago. To the flash of light, the fresh air, to the men dragging her toward that van. She’d taken a chance then and run. And ultimately they’d caught her and beat her. She’d paid for trying to escape, but she knew she’d do it again in a heartbeat, even with the same outcome, because she was a fighter.
    “Do you want to live, Olivia?” Yes, she did. She hadn’t given up then, and she wasn’t giving up now. And she wasn’t about to let some stupid man give up for her.
    For the second time in twenty-four hours, she ignored Landon’s orders and did what she knew was right.

 
    L andon slinked around the edge of the building and located the propane tank thirty-five feet out from a utility building set back from the compound. A wood fence ran around the tank, hiding it from view, but he knew it was his target from the pipes sticking up from the ground near the building, in direct line with the small square fence.
    He glanced up at the nearby tower. An oak tree stood between him and the fence. Dragging in a deep breath, he sprinted through the dim light and drew up sharply when he reached the shadow of the tree, then plastered his back to the trunk.
    His breaths came fast and shallow. By now Olivia had to be well into the vineyard. She could run fast when she wanted. He’d watched her do it. He said a quick prayer she’d get to that Kubota before the guards in the towers noticed any movement.
    Don’t think about Olivia. You don’t have time.
    No, he didn’t. But as his eyes fixed on the wood fence surrounding his target, he couldn’t help but think back to the way she’d looked up at him when he’d held her under those stairs. The fit of her body against his had excited every part of him and sent blood rushing to his cock. He knew she’d felt it—she’d have to be dead not to feel that—and he’d seen it in her eyes when she’d eased back and looked up at him. But he’d also seen fear. The kind he was used to seeing in women’s eyes when they got their first look at him, and it had quickly dampened any arousal he’d been feeling. Because Olivia was the one person who’d never been afraid of him, who’d seemed to see through the exterior, who’d made him think he could be something more than a killer trained by the DIA.
    That’s exactly what you are. Accept it and move on.
    The kicker was, though, he had. And then Olivia Wolfe had dropped into his life, and he’d found himself wanting . . . more.
    Focus, dumbass.
    He pushed thoughts of Olivia out of his mind and zeroed in on the fence. As a cloud passed in front of the moon, dimming the light, he darted toward the edge of the fence, away from the view of the tower. The gate was locked, and he didn’t have a key. Luckily, the panels were nailed, not screwed—thank the fucking stars above—to braces on the inside.
    He tucked his gun in the front of his jeans, slunk down, and moved around the corner of the fence. Reaching for the top of the closest board, he flexed his muscles and pulled. Metal groaned as he pried the nails from the wood. He ground his teeth and jerked the panel free, then tossed it to the ground. Just as he’d hoped, a one-thousand-gallon propane tank sat inside the square fence.
    He pried off two more boards, just in case, grasped the handgun at his waist, and slinked back into the shadows along the building, thirty-five feet away. When he reached the corner, he peered around the edge, looking for any kind of movement. The