Under Threat by B.J. Daniels (reading the story of the .TXT) 📕

“Natalie, listen to me,” he said, his voice calm, his demeanor sure. Because not only was it his job to take a bullet for her if the circumstances necessitated that, but he wanted to. He’d never be able to live with himself if she ended up hurt because of an error in his judgement.

“My job is to keep you safe.”

“Well, Vaughn, I want you to be safe too, regardless of what your job is.”

He’d analyze the way those words sliced a little later. “I’ll be safe. If you listen to me, we’ll both be safe. We’re going to make a run for it. You first. I’ll follow.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Unfortunately, Nat, it doesn’t matter what you like, this is what we have to do.”

She exhaled shakily, and it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized it was anger not fear. “If you get shot,” she said, her voice trembling with rage, “I will finish off the job myself. Do you understand me? You will not get hurt saving me.”

Everything inside him vibrated with a kind of gratitude and hurt and all number of things he couldn’t work out at the moment. He kissed her temple, which was the only place on her head he could reach.

“You just listen to me, and everything will be fine. I’ve gotten you this far, haven’t I?”

“Yes, and I know you’ll get me the rest of the way. We’ll get each other the rest of the way.”

He hated that she was worried about his safety. Her safety was of the most importance, not his. He was a man who could be replaced easily enough, but there was no one like Natalie.

But if she cared about him, and her safety depended on his, then he would keep himself safe. He would keep them both safe.

“On the count of three, we run. That’s our destination. If I happen to get hit, you keep going. You can’t save me if you’re dead.”

“And you can’t save me if you’re dead,” she argued.

Another shot rang out, and Vaughn knew that one was way too close for comfort. The next one would hit, and if they weren’t trying to kill them, all the more danger.

“One, two, three, go.” He launched to his feet, pulling her with him, and then they ran.

Natalie ran, just as Vaughn instructed. There was a certain hysteria bubbling through her, but with a specific destination—behind that rock—she managed to focus enough to get her feet to move, as fast as they possibly could.

Another shot rang out, and Natalie jerked in fear and surprise and almost tripped at the sound, but Vaughn’s steady grip on her arm propelled her forward. She tumbled behind the rock, and Vaughn was right behind her, covering her with his body again.

As glad as she was to have someone protecting her, someone like Vaughn, so sure, so capable, worried about her safety, she had fallen in love with the man, and she hated the thought that he was ready to give his life for hers.

She knew this was his job, but that didn’t make it easier. Certainly not easier to know he was risking his neck for her. She didn’t feel worthy of it. She didn’t feel worthy of any of this.

Why were these men after her? All she’d done was pathetically fail at trying to find her sister for eight years. Failure after failure. Why on earth did they think her worthy of this kind of manhunt?

Now was not the time to worry about those questions, about her failures, but every insecurity, every pain, every hurt seemed to center inside her along with this bone-deep panic.

Vaughn made an odd grunting sound as he rolled off her. She glanced over at him, and he was trying to pull off his jacket. She didn’t quite know why he was bothering with that when—

“I’m going to need your help,” he said, his voice strangely strained.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, despite the way her throat tightened. Something was off, something—

Then she saw it, the angry streak of red in the middle of a rip on the T-shirt fabric across his shoulder. She felt like she’d been shot, seeing that horrible gash and the way the blood trickled down his beautiful, strong arm. For her.

He spared her a glance. “Not going to pass out, are you?”

“No,” she said firmly, though she did feel a little woozy and light-headed at the sight of him bleeding so profusely, but she wasn’t going to be so weak she couldn’t help him. She would find a way to push through her physical reaction and give him everything he needed.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Grab something out of the backpack that you can wrap tight around the wound.” He had his gun pulled and was holding it with his good arm. Ready to take a shot. Ready to protect her in the middle of this barren mountainous desert. “I can do it myself if you want me to—”

“I can do it.” Natalie would do whatever he asked, whatever he needed. Over and over again.

He kept his gaze trained on the area around the rock that protected them. Natalie did her best to hurry to find something she could wrap his arm with. She hoped this was at least a little bit like in the movies, because then she would at least know a little bit of what to do.

There was a T-shirt at the very bottom of his pack, and she pulled it out. Without thinking too much about it, she pulled and pulled until she ripped a good strip. She repeated the process over and over until she had several strips. While Vaughn remained the lookout, she folded the strips over the worst part of the wound and then tied the longest one around his upper arm as tight as she could manage.

He hissed out a breath, but that was the only outward sign that he hurt.

“That should hold for little bit,” she said, scared and worried that