Home > Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(53)

Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(53)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

He assumed the team leader would’ve stationed people at all potential exits. Caution would be needed.

He didn’t spot anyone as he slid out the glassless window. Landing as softly as possible, he bent his knees to present a smaller silhouette. The sun was just below the horizon, and the encroaching forest shadowed the area.

As he moved across the patchy lawn, he caught sight of someone coming around the side of the house to his right. Another person on the left blocked his chosen route. He broke into a run, automatically zigzagging, although Anne had said firearms were only used in case of life-threatening danger.

He headed toward the opening in the fence, veered at the last minute, and shouldered past the man who attempted to block him. Using a tree for an assist, he jumped the fence.

Someone yelled, “East side!”

A body hit him from the left in an unsuccessful tackle. While they grappled, Anne slammed into him from the rear, and he tripped over the other guy.

As he landed on his front, someone dropped onto his legs.

Still struggling, he felt a sharp sting on his back. Shit. He played dead.

“What the hell?” The man on his legs rolled off. “Hey, buddy, you okay? He just went limp, Anne.”

She knelt. “Ben, are you all right?”

“Am I allowed to be alive now?”

“What do you mean?” Her hand was on his cheek, smelling of her floral bath soap.

“Someone shot me in the back. Aren’t I supposed to die if that happens?”

In the dim light, he saw her perfectly curved brows draw together. “No one shot you.”

“Yeah, someone did. At a guess, the shooter was fairly close.”

Anne glanced at the two men who’d grappled with him.

Neither had weapons drawn.

Ben sat up as two more trotted over from the back of the house. Aaron and Robert.

“Which one of you shot him?” Anne snapped at them.

From the front of the house came more team members.

“I’m not carrying. Not enough pistols to go around,” Aaron said with a slow Texas drawl. He turned his head and spit.

Everyone looked at Robert.

Anne’s cousin stiffened and glared at Anne. “Fuck, I didn’t shoot him. Your guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

What an asshole. “I’ve played Airsoft before and know how a pellet hit feels.” Ben pulled off his threadbare T-shirt and turned toward the flashlight Travis was holding. “See for yourself—mid-back, right of the spine.”

Anne touched the stinging spot. “That’s a hit and a lethal one. Now we have a man dead in a non-life-threatening situation. The relatives were witnesses that he was unarmed and on the ground when shot.” She fixed Robert with an aggravated gaze. “Lawsuit material. You know better, Robert.”

The bastard looked her up and down and simply walked away.

Anne didn’t react visibly, but Ben could feel her irritation—and dammit, there wasn’t a thing he could do to help.

Aaron leaned down, offered Ben a hand, and yanked him to his feet. “Shit, man, you weigh a ton. Can’t believe you can move so fast.”

“Had practice.” Since they had the best long-range spotting equipment, snipers did a whole lot of scouting. And sometimes a whole lot of retreating if a situation turned sour.

Anne walked over, carrying two bottled waters. She studied him as he pulled his T-shirt back on. “Any injuries, my tiger?” she asked softly.

Tiger. He could live with that, especially with the my tucked in front of it. “Nope. I’m good.” He took a bottle and chugged it down. “You letting the twit get away with the disobedience?”

She pushed back her hair. “With anyone else, he’d be off my crew so quickly, his head would spin. But Robert is the son of one of the owners. Although I told them he’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, I was forced to let him onto the team. He’s quite good at manipulating his father.”

“That sucks.”

“It does. His incompetence and grandstanding are liable to get someone killed.”

She had a clear assessment of the problem. And, aside from Robert, the men seemed to be stand-up guys.

“We’ll start the next scenario as soon as we move the props around.” She opened the other bottle and took a sip. “Would you prefer to play good guy or family member?”

“Fight or sit on my ass. What do you think?”

Her husky laugh made him harden to discomfort. “All right. Are you any good at hand-to-hand or—”

“Put me where you need me, Anne. I can hold my own.”

“As you wish.” She smiled. “The second scenario is done in full gear. Prepare to get sweaty.”

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