All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel Read Free Page A

the first one hit the ground.
    She couldn’t move until the man still standing raised a gun, with a silencer on the end, which jolted her into action.
    “Cara, run!” Joe yelled again as he dove and rolled away from the barrage of bullets striking the sand.
    She ran, her feet slogging through the loose sand and over rocks and driftwood. Staying close to the tall grass at the edge of the beach, she searched desperately for another access trail back out to the street and people. Her ragged breathing seared her throat, her heart raced, and her calves burned. It was crazy to stop, but her legs were shaking and she needed to rest a few seconds. Just long enough to catch her breath.
    Heavy footsteps approached quickly from behind.
    Was it Joe? God, she hoped so, but she couldn’t take the chance. Her breathing was so loud anyone within fifty feet could hear her. Hiding was out of the question. Her only hope was to run and try to lose him.
    Bending low, she raced along the beach. Her legs ached with the effort. Twice she fell. Each time she picked herself up, the relentless footsteps drew closer.
    Ahead, a break in the grass. A trail led up an incline toward a motel. She swerved onto the path and kept running. The sand ended at a short flight of stairs that led to the back of the motel. She took them two at a time. As she reached the top and dashed the ten feet to the motel’s covered walkway, the pap, pap of bullets through a silencer barely preceded the spray of lead on the wall beside her head. She careened around the corner, right into the waiting arms of someone. Her momentum carried them both down the alleyway a few feet.
    No! She was so close. She wasn’t going down without a fight. Instinctively, she clawed and twisted, but the man easily overpowered her and pinned her arms to her sides. When she opened her mouth to scream, he pushed her back against the wall and pressed his hand over her mouth. Glaring into his face, she went still, relief turning her tired legs to rubber.
    Joe.
    As soon as she stopped struggling, he removed his hand. He placed a finger in front of his lips. A raised palm told her to stay put, and then he crept to the corner of the building and waited.
    The follower’s footsteps pounded up the stairs with no attempt at stealth. As the man rounded the corner, Joe crouched and sprang. With a left to the jaw, he knocked the man to his knees and kicked the gun from his hand. It clattered across the concrete toward her. She bent to pick it up.
    The man caught Joe’s leg and jerked him off his feet. Something long and metallic appeared in his hand. Joe jumped up to fight, unarmed, as the stranger lunged with the knife. Joe blocked the thrust, but the knife slashed across his arm and he fell back. The man grinned and advanced to attack again.
    Cara raised the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Pap. She’d done it thousands of times before, but this time the spent lead didn’t travel thirty-five feet and tear through a paper target. As though in slow motion, the bullet hit the gunman’s chest. A dark stain spread down the front of his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise as they met hers for an instant. Then he fell.
    She’d fired lots of weapons—all kinds—but it hadn’t prepared her for this. She was only vaguely aware of Joe standing in front of her. He tried to take the gun, but she couldn’t make her fingers let go. Finally, he pried it from her hands, put the safety on, and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans.
    He bent over the man and checked for a pulse, but Cara knew he was dead. She was an excellent shot and had hit him just where she’d aimed. Still standing where Joe left her, she couldn’t take her eyes off the body of the man who only seconds ago had been alive. Her mind replayed the sequence again… aiming, firing, the man hitting the ground. A scream built up inside her. She tried to stop it, but an anguished groan broke free. She was losing it. She had to get away from