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Running for Cover & Running Scared: An Anthology (Love Inspired Classics) - Softcover

McCoy, Shirlee

 
9780373601448: Running for Cover & Running Scared: An Anthology (Love Inspired Classics)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373601441 ISBN 13: 9780373601448
Verlag: Harlequin Themes, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

Two suspenseful stories from the Heroes for Hire series by bestselling author Shirlee McCoy 

RUNNING FOR COVER 

Morgan Alexandria wants to escape her past…but her past isn't ready to let go. Thanks to her ex-husband's shady dealings, someone's after her, and if it weren't for Jackson Sharo, she might already be dead. Can Morgan trust Jackson? The former big-city cop is practically a stranger. But without Jackson's help, she could find herself running right into a trap… 

RUNNING SCARED 

Maggie Tennyson is thrilled to have helped reunite Kane Dougherty with his abducted son. Now if only Kane would leave her alone! It's not safe to be near her, not with her shadowed past. But when it comes to her protection, Kane refuses to walk away. When danger finds Maggie again, she'll face it with a hero at her side—whether she wants him or not!

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Aside from her faith and her family, there’s not much Shirlee McCoy enjoys more than a good book! When she’s not hanging out with the people she loves most, she can be found plotting her next Love Inspired Suspense story or trekking through the wilderness, training with a local search-and-rescue team. Shirlee loves to hear from readers. If you have time, drop her a line at shirleermccoy@hotmail.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Pain.

It pulled Morgan Alexandria from silky blackness, slammed her into reality. She groaned, levering away from cold tile, crimson blood dripping from her lips and staining the white kitchen floor. More blood pooled in her mouth, the metallic taste of it making her gag. She wanted to sink back down, let whatever was going to happen happen. Images flashed through her mind—blond hair, deep blue eyes, chubby cheeks; dark hair and a solemn, thin face. Morgan's sister and brother as they'd been twenty years ago.

What were they like now?

The question drove Morgan to her knees. She blinked, trying to clear her vision and her head. Sounds were coming from the den. Soft thuds and thumps. Rumbling voices. Morgan could wait for the two armed men who'd come into her gallery an hour ago to return to the kitchen or she could run. Either way, she'd probably die.

She staggered to her feet, her jaw and head throbbing in time with her racing heart. Just a few yards and she'd be at the door of the apartment. One flight of stairs down and she'd be in the small gallery she'd opened nearly a year ago when she'd foolishly believed she could cut her ex-husband Cody out of her life forever. She should have known that the trouble and heartache he'd brought to their marriage would follow her.

A loud crash startled her into action, and she ran, broken glass from the upended coffee table crunching under her feet as she raced through the living room. Her fingers brushed the doorknob, her hand closing around cool metal.

Almost free.

Hard fingers dug into her shoulder, yanking her away from the door and escape.

"You don't get to leave until we get the disk. Just tell us where it is, and you can walk out of here." The voice was as hard as the grip on her shoulder, and Morgan knew it was full of lies. There'd be no leaving. Just a slow, painful death or a quick, brutal one. Terror gave her strength, and she swung around, slamming her fist into the man's eye.

He cursed, his grip loosening, and Morgan wrenched her shoulder from his grasp, grabbing the doorknob again and yanking the door open. She took the stairs two at time. Praying. Begging. Hoping God heard.

The gallery at the bottom of the stairs was dark, the room silent. No evidence of the violence that had taken place there in the minutes before Morgan had been dragged up to her apartment.

If she died, how long would it take for anyone to notice she was gone?

Her footsteps echoed through the large room as she raced for the front door, her heart pounding harshly in her ears. Just a few more feet. Just a few more seconds.

Please, please, please. I'm not ready to die.

The prayer caught in her throat, a barely formed scream dying as she was jerked backward. Her sweater tightened around her throat and stars danced in front of her eyes, darkness beckoning again. It would be so easy to give up. To give in. But there were too many things left undone, too many words left unsaid.

Too many regrets.

She clawed at the fabric of the sweater, fighting for air.

"Cool it. You kill her and we'll never get what we came for," a man said.

And suddenly Morgan could breathe again.

She collapsed onto the floor, coughing and gagging as one of the men leaned down, stared into her face. "You shouldn't have punched me. We could have made this easy on you. Now…well, maybe it won't be so easy after all. Come on. Get up. We're going back upstairs and you're going to tell us what you did with the disk."

"I already told you I don't have it," Morgan managed to say, the words as dry and brittle as old bones.

"That's not what your ex-husband said." The man grinned, the hot, ugly look in his eyes making Morgan wish she could sink back into unconsciousness.

"Whatever Cody told you—"

The chime of the doorbell interrupted her, and Morgan froze, her gaze jumping to the gallery door. The sound came again, soft but insistent.

"You expecting a visitor?" Her captor hissed the words as he pressed a gun to her temple.

Morgan nodded, lying. Praying it would save her. Praying that the person on the other side of the door was someone she knew. Someone who would see the fear in her eyes, the bruises on her face and go for help.

"Whoever it is, get rid of him. If you don't, his blood is on your hands." He dragged her to her feet, motioned for the other man to step into the deep shadows of the gallery and then shoved Morgan to the door.

Her hands shook as she cracked it open just enough to see a man standing on the front stoop. Tall and rangy, his face shadowed by darkness, he was a stranger.

Morgan's heart sank. "Yes?"

"I saw a light on and thought you might be open."

"No. I'm sorry, we're not." Morgan forced the response past lips that felt swollen and tight. She wanted to shove the door open and run, but knew she'd be shot before she took half a dozen steps. And she wasn't the only one who'd die.

"Too bad. I saw the Closed sign, but hoped since your lights were on you might be willing to make a sale. A friend of mine is getting married in the morning, and I just realized I left his wedding gift at home in New York." Despite the darkness, Morgan could see his easy, charming smile. He didn't know how close he was to death, and Morgan didn't dare try to tell him.

"I wish I could help you, but I've got a wedding to attend tomorrow, too. I've got a lot to do before then, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Really?" He smiled again. "Maybe it's the same one."

"What?"

"Wedding. Who are the bride and groom?" He shifted as he spoke, easing a little to the left, his gaze focused on a point above Morgan's head. Could he see the man standing deep in the shadows? Or the one right beside Morgan hidden behind the door? Did he sense the danger they were both in?

The hard butt of a gun jammed into Morgan's side, urging her to answer the question and get rid of her visitor. For a moment she couldn't remember what the question was, couldn't think of what the answer would be.

The man at the door took a step forward, his gaze still on the point above Morgan's head. And everything clicked into place. The question. The answer. "Lacey Carmichael and Jude Sinclair are the bride and groom."

"It is the same wedding. I guess we'll see each other there."

The gun jabbed into Morgan's side again, a silent warning she couldn't ignore. "I guess we will." If she lived that long. "Now I really have to go."

"Sure. No problem. What time to do you open in the morning?"

Open? What time did she open?

Morgan's mind was blank, her thoughts scattered.

"Ma'am?"

"Ten. I open at ten."

"I'll see you then," he said, turning to walk away.

No. You won't. I'll be dead, sprawled on the floor of my apartment or wrapped in a plastic bag on the side of a road or lying on the bottom of the lake, cement blocks tied to my ankles.

Morgan wanted to shout the words, wanted to beg for rescue. Instead, she closed the door, her skin crawling as she met the eyes of the man who'd been standing next to her. Mud-brown, they were empty of emotion.

"Good job. That guy has you to thank for his life," he said, shoving his gun into a holster beneath his jacket.

"Come on. We've wasted enough time. Let's finish this," the second man said from the shadows, his voice...

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Verlag
Harlequin Themes
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373601441
ISBN 13 
9780373601448
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
480
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