Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1 Read Free

a clip of ammo into his handgun and hold it up with both hands, finger on the trigger. She bit her lip, shook her head and clicked the automatic lock for all four doors. Nope. Safer to hide in the car.
    He looked right at her. Uh,oh. She slumped in her seat.
    A moment later, he tapped his knuckles on her window. “Ma’am? Can you hear me? Come out, it’s safe.”
    Terror kept her glued to her seat. “Safe. Yeah, right,” she snorted, gripping her gun.
    He brought his face level with hers and yanked off his glasses. She blinked. Her breath caught in her throat. Wow, he was handsome. No, gorgeous—gorgeous like Benjamin Bratt. And he had a wicked scar that carved down the right side of his face, which in reality, only made him more handsome, in an edgy I’m-about-to-ravage-you kind of way. Coffee-brown eyes and full lips curved into a tight smile. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Are you sick? Roll down your window, please. We need to talk.”
    Polite too.
    “I’m not talking to you,” she muttered. “I don’t care how cute you are.”
    “What?” he said. “I can’t hear you.”
    His deep voice sounded soothing and trustworthy. A siren song.
    She examined his face again, searching for the answer to her most burning question. Was this man a gentle giant, or trouble on two legs? Either way, ignoring him wouldn’t prevent him from shooting her in the head through the car window. Rachel decided to negotiate.
    She lowered the glass an inch. “I’m not sick.”
    “Good,” he sighed.
    “I have a gun.”
    “So do I.” He smiled. “Several.”
    Her nostrils flared. She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not getting out. I’m leaving. Okay, pretty boy? You go on back to your car, and I’ll stay in mine and I’ll drive out and we’ll go our separate ways. No harm done.”
    The big, scary guy frowned. “That’s not a good idea. You could get hurt on your own.”
    “And I could get hurt with you. Thanks, but no thanks.” Being alone would be hard, lonely and downright miserable, but at least she’d be alive and unharmed if she traveled by herself. She’d take the unknown any day over journeying with a possible freak in a pretty package.
    “I wouldn’t hurt you.” His voice turned frosty.
    “I don’t know that. Now step away and walk back to your car.” She raised the gun with trembling hands and pointed it at him for emphasis.
    She must have offended him, because he looked pissed. He gripped the edge of the window. “Ma’am, I’m First Lieutenant Adam Sanchez, an officer in the Marine Corps. I got back from Afghanistan and found this,” he said, throwing a hand out to the highway. “Out of one shit storm and into the next and somehow came out of it alive. Now as far as I can tell, you and I seem to be the only two people left alive in all of San Diego. You think I’m going to waste our precious time attacking you?”
    “Yes, I do!” she shot back.
    He stood up and rubbed his head. “Fuck me,” he grumbled, before he strode off toward his Hummer.
    She watched his retreating back. And his, um…well, his magnificent ass. Oh damn. He’d backed off? He could’ve easily shot his way inside the car and taken her, but instead he’d walked away? Her self-righteous anger drained away, leaving uncertainty in its wake. Maybe she’d made a mistake. What if he was the same as her—a decent human being trying to find a way out of town?
    She put down the gun, unlocked the door and got out. “Mr. Sanchez?” she shouted after him. “Adam?”
    Who did she think he was? A criminal? A rapist? For chrissake, he’d only planned on helping her.
    He heard her call his name and took a few more steps. Oh, fuck this. He stopped and took a deep breath. She was possibly the last person alive in San Diego and he didn’t even know her name, or what she looked like. All he’d seen through tinted glass was a female with a caustic tongue. Why was he letting what she’d said get under his skin? Curious and starved for