Trouble on Reserve Read Free Page B

to wind his arm around Trent’s neck instead. It was a hold to contain, not kill, and I slid to a halt, not helpless, but if I hit the man with a ley line, Trent would take it, too. He isn’t trying to kill him. Then why the tag? The thought niggled, but I couldn’t give it any attention. Trent was in the man’s grip, fighting to breathe.
    I ran forward, dancing back when Trent tried to lever his attacker over his head, but the man was twice his weight and the hill was working against him. Struggling, Trent slammed his elbow into the man’s middle, and still he held on.
    “Some help here?” Trent wheezed.
    Frowning, I made fists of my hands. “Don’t move.”
    “Urgh . . . Rachel!” Trent sputtered as I found my balance. I was wearing these dumb shoes. This was going to hurt.
    “Haaaaaeah!” I screamed, putting everything I had behind a crescent kick. It hit the man’s temple perfectly, a spike of pain radiating up my foot as I connected. Breathless, I stood with my weight all on my left foot, right foot throbbing. “Wait for it,” I said as Trent desperately dug at the man’s grip, still tight around his neck.
    With a soft sigh, the man fell backward, dragging Trent down with him. They hit with a thud. For an instant, Trent blinked up at me, then he shoved the man’s arm off him.
    Scrambling to his feet, Trent tugged his suit straight. “That was a little close, wasn’t it?” he rasped as he felt his neck.
    I was still riding the adrenaline high of having saved Trent, and I crouched to feel for the man’s pulse. This wasn’t Mr. Glock. My foot hurt, and I kept my weight off it as I rose. “You’d rather I use my fist and have to explain to Ivy why she has to cut my steak?” Trent was silent, and I stood on one foot and rubbed the other. We needed to go. We’d find nothing if I searched the man. “He’s out. Let’s go. I can get that tag off you, but I need some time.”
    “You want to just leave him here?”
    “He’s not going to go to the I.S. and file assault charges. He failed. He’ll be lucky if his employer lets him live.” It wasn’t as if we could kill him. Hesitating, I thought about his arm wrapped around Trent’s neck. No. We couldn’t kill him, even if I wanted to.
    “Perhaps you’re right.” With a surprising amount of grace, he climbed the steep ditch and scrambled out onto the road. He didn’t seem to be worried about the tag. Maybe he’d neutralized it himself.
    Depressed, I looked for an easier way up. “Damn it, Trent, who did you piss off now?” I complained as I found a way to the top.
    Trent was coming back from the car, his head down. “I’m sorry,” he said as he handed me my unbroken splat ball. “I don’t know what’s going on. I think there’s a restaurant half a mile up. We can get a cab. I’d feel better with people around us.”
    Oddly enough, I would too. Whoever had targeted him wanted it to be in a dark alley, not where there were witnesses.
    Without another word, he left the car behind and began hoofing it up the steep, winding road. I hastened to follow, dropping the splat ball he’d given me in my bag where it wouldn’t spell me if it broke. “Trent, who’s been most active with the death threats lately?”
    His posture was bent as he labored up the hill. “Nothing sticks out.”
    “Nothing sticks out?” I came even with him, pulse fast. “Look, there’s someone else out here. Assassins always travel in pairs.”
    He looked sideways at me. “Why do you think I abandoned the car?”
    Why do you think I abandoned the car? I mocked in my thoughts, then quashed it. “Let me call Ivy,” I prompted. “She can pick us up. Who knew you’d be at the marina tonight? Who knows the number you’d hit on the keypad?”
    He was silent. The crickets had resumed their chorus, and I heard a boat hoot on the river. “Quen? Ellasbeth?”
    His pace bobbled, and I pounced on it.
    “You told Ellasbeth?” I said, aghast. “For God’s sake,