Exit Strategy Read Free Page B

passenger was rounding the hood, holding out her hands as if to show Sabrina that she meant no harm. Moonlight bathed her face, illuminating a smile so sympathetic and kind that Sabrina hesitated. Had she jumped to the wrong conclusion? Could these ­people really be harmless strangers, not in league with the man who was after her?
    “Please,” the woman said, opening the door behind the driver and waving Sabrina forward. “Let us help you. You’ve got blood all over your arm. We’ll take you to the hospital.”
    Sabrina glanced at her cut, which was still oozing blood. When she looked back at the woman, she was staring at something over Sabrina’s shoulder.
    Sabrina whirled around.
    Two strong arms grabbed her, yanking her back against a familiar hard body.
    “No!” she screamed. “Let me go.” She twisted violently, trying to get away from him. “Help me!” she cried to the woman.
    The woman flushed guiltily.
    Sometimes Sabrina hated being right.
    She stomped her heels on top of her captor’s boots and tried to wrench herself out of his arms.
    “Stop it, Sabrina,” a familiar Southern drawl ordered next to her ear. “You’re just going to hurt yourself.”
    “It’ll be worth it if I hurt you too,” she spat out, trying to elbow him in the stomach.
    His right arm tightened over her arms, beneath her breasts, crushing her against him, effectively immobilizing her except for her feet. She kicked and flailed backward, slamming her right heel into his shin.
    He sucked in a breath and shifted his body sideways.
    “I didn’t want to do this. You’ve left me no choice,” he bit out.
    She could feel him reaching for something. His gun? Alarm spiked through her. She drew a deep breath to scream just as he pressed a cloth over her nose and mouth, the smell sickeningly sweet.
    No, no, no! She tried to fight him, to hold her breath, but she could already feel a heavy lethargy flooding through her veins as whatever drug he was using began to take effect. She silently pleaded with her eyes for the driver and woman to help her.
    The man’s expression was stony. The woman bit her bottom lip and looked away.
    “Stop fighting me,” her captor’s deep voice whispered near Sabrina’s ear. “It’s easier if you don’t fight.”
    Said the spider to the fly.
    Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen. Dark spots swam in her vision.
    “Breathe,” he ordered. “You’ve got no reason to fear me if you’re innocent. Take a breath.”
    Innocent of what? She hadn’t done anything wrong!
    A wave of dizziness had her clutching his arm.
    Is this what happened to you, Grampy? Did they do this to you too?
    Grief slammed into her as she finally accepted the possibility that she might never see her beloved Grampy Hightower’s face again.
    “Sabrina, breathe,” her captor ordered, a note of worry in his voice.
    She jerked her face to the side, desperately taking a quick breath of untainted air. “Go to hell.”
    “Already been there.” His voice held a tinge of bitterness as he clamped the cloth over her nose and mouth again.
    Unable to fight the desperate need for air, Sabrina allowed herself one shallow breath. Her world went dark.
    M ASON CAUG HT S ABRINA’S unconscious body in his arms and scooped her against his chest, more shaken than he’d been in a long time. She’d fought like a hellcat, defiant to the last. But even her curses couldn’t conceal the bone-­deep fear in the tone of her voice. Fear that he had caused. Had his other marks felt that kind of fear before their executions? He didn’t know, had never cared to find out. Had never cared . Period. Because they deserved the punishment that justice had dictated. And it was killing him not knowing whether Sabrina deserved it too. For the first time ever, as he looked down at her angelic face and cradled her delicate body, he fervently hoped his mark was innocent.
    Stop it. Enforcer Training 101: Never identify with the enemy. Never become attached. If