“Stupid American journalist.” Volkov’s accented English carried satisfaction that made her skin crawl. “Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The gun barrel jammed against her skull, and the fight froze inside her.
Her camera’s strap cut into her neck as he dragged her backward. Her feet barely touched the dock as he maneuvered her to the boat.
Footsteps.
Volkov turned. “I know you’re there. Show yourself, or the journalist dies.”
A figure materialized from behind a cargo container. Female. Dressed in black tactical gear that made her nearly invisible against the warehouse background. Dark hair. Shapely. Cold eyes that reflected the dock lights.
The woman from the garage at the Arnoma Grand hotel. “Let her go, Volkov,” she said.
He stilled, clearly shaken. “Lynx,” he hissed.
And that’s when Chloe let her knees buckle. She dropped her center of gravity and pulled Volkov off balance. His grip loosened for a split second—long enough for her to drive her elbow back into his solar plexus and twist away from the gun.
It worked.
Volkov stumbled backward, gasping.
“Chloe!”
Skeet’s voice carried across the water as he appeared at the dock’s entrance. His gun tracked between Volkov and the woman.
She could cry at the sight of him. Except... oh, she’d done exactly what she’d promised not to do.
“Get away from him, Chloe,” Skeet said, advancing.
Volkov scrambled for his gun, lost on the deck, but Lynx was already moving. Her kick sent the gun spinning into the river.
Volkov grabbed the briefcase, turned, and fled down the shoreline, into the darkness.
What?“The briefcase!” Chloe shouted. “Don’t let him?—”
Even as she shouted it, Lynx took off after him.
And yeah, she was an idiot, because she did too. Except, Skeet caught up to her, grabbed her arm, pulled her around to himself.
“Volkov—”
“I know.”
She shot a look down the wharf. Volkov was already disappearing into the maze of loading equipment and container stacks that lined the river. The woman sprinted after him, both figures swallowed by shadow.
She looked at Skeet.
Oh, he was mad, his jaw so tight he could crack teeth, fury radiating off him.
And not just mad.
Disappointed. Betrayed.
Heartbroken.
His expression emptied her, left her hollow and broken and...
He’d followed her into her crazy, and now she’d destroyed everything. Including his trust.