Getting the Edge: Betrayed Book 1 (15 page)

Slowly, Mandy held up her hand for Brandon to look at. She winced when he moved the fingers around.

“It’s not broken, I don’t think.”

“Can’t we just drop him off near the hotel for the cops to find?” she asked.

Brandon nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do—after I ask him a few more questions.”

He drove by the hotel slowly, surprised there weren’t cops anywhere. “This place should be crawling with police,” he muttered.

“Do you think whoever is orchestrating this mess has people on this force, too?” she asked, her voice shaking. “I mean—your department was lots bigger, and they still got to us.”

Brandon pulled behind an abandoned building on the main drag. He climbed from the car and pulled Gallager out with him. He didn’t see anyone following him, but he was almost sure that he was being watched. “Who do you work for?” he demanded.

Gallager grinned through his split lip. “I’m not telling you that, Walsh. I told you—I’m not telling you anything.”

Brandon wasn’t sure he would be able to torture this jerk—even if he deserved it. “Why are you doing this? Unless the badge is fake, you work for the same department I worked for.”

Gallager was still grinning. “Well, of course. Do you think we could have done such a good job getting rid of you otherwise?” He laughed now. “This is a bigger operation that you—”

Gallager’s words were cut of abruptly. Brandon heard the shot at the same time he saw the hole at the center of Gallager’s forehead.

Brandon knelt and drew his weapon, looking around for the shooter—but he saw nothing. There were too many possible buildings—even at the angle he thought the bullet had come from.

There was nothing he could do for Gallager. He left him where he was and ran back to the car.

“You shot him?” Mandy said, her voice barely a whisper.”

He glared over at her. “No, it was a sniper. We have to get out of here—now.” He started the engine and heard another shot. The back window shattered, sending shards of glass raining down. The sting of cuts had him wincing, but he didn’t slow down.

Mandy released an involuntary gasp, and he glanced over at her. Shards of glass coated her hair and shirt—but what terrified him was all the blood.

She’d been shot.

Chapter Eighteen

Brandon raced from the parking lot and headed toward the road, glancing at Mandy. She’d been hit, but he didn’t know how badly.

“Get down, Mandy. On the floorboard.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she scrambled to the floor, huddled, with tears streaming down her eyes.

“How bad?” he asked, driving as fast as the car would go. He was doing ninety as he headed out of town.

“I—I don’t know,” she said in a shaky voice. “I—I think it just got my arm.”

Brandon cursed. He should have expected something like this sooner. Even if she had stayed with him—they’d have likely been attacked at the cabin. “Put pressure on it.” A glance at her arm showed that it was bleeding pretty badly—but it was on both sides, which meant the bullet had gone through her arm. “Can you move your fingers?”

Mandy winced, but her fingers moved. “Yes,” she said. “But it hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I led them to you.”

“Where are we going?” she asked worriedly.

“I have no idea right now,” he said. “I just want to be sure that no one is following us. Once I’m sure, I’ll dump the car.”

His eyes went to the rear view mirror. He didn’t see any cars, which was a good sign—but he also didn’t know where to find a car quickly. They were in the middle of nowhere.

“We’re going back to the cabin,” he decided. If there was going to be a showdown, he wanted it somewhere that he could defend. There was only one road leading to the cabin and he could set a few traps.

“Hold on,” he murmured as he slowed enough to turn back toward the cabin.

“But they might be there!” she said. “We need to hide somewhere.”

Brandon looked at her. She was too pale, but her free hand was holding her bleeding arm. He needed to check that damn wound.

He edged the car to the side of the road and stopped. He didn’t like being out in the open, but they had gone at least forty miles. He hadn’t seen even one car.

“Let me look at your arm,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn’t want to make her panic.

Slowly, she pulled her hand away, and Brandon ripped the sleeve of her shirt easily so he could see the wound.

It was bleeding from both sides, but he didn’t think it had hit more than muscle. The bone seemed to be intact, or she’d have been in a lot more pain. Still, he needed to get it cleaned.

Fuck. She needed to go to a hospital, but he didn’t know where the nearest one was—he didn’t want to take her back to the one she’d been in before. That’s the first place they’d look for her, though again, he could stay with her and keep her safe there.

“I think I should take you back to the hospital, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get an infection. The first aid kit is still at the cabin—I took it in when you cut your hand.” He cursed himself for not putting it back in the car.

“We can find a pharmacy, Brandon. I don’t want to go back to a hospital,” she said, her voice weak.

“Then keep talking to me, Mandy. I can’t risk your going into shock.”

“Just find a pharmacy, Brandon. I’m okay.”

Brandon nodded, but used the material of her shirt to make a bandage. He wrapped it around the bleeding wound on her upper arm. “Try to keep pressure on it, love.”

The last thing he wanted to do was have to answer questions about how she’d been shot—and he was sure the cops would be on the scene back in the town they’d left.

He turned the car again. They needed to go somewhere else, and he had to try and find a doctor to look at it, though he knew they were required to report shootings.

Damn. Not what either of them needed, but he wasn’t going to risk her health. He turned on his GPS, thankful that he’d installed one. He punched the button for hospitals, and found there was one in the town fifty miles away.

“I found a hospital, sweetheart. We’ll get that arm checked, and I’ll look for a rental car, or a cheap one I can just buy. We’ve got to get off the grid, I think.”

Mandy looked over at him. “No, no hospitals. Just find a pharmacy and get stuff to clean it. It’s fine. The bullet is in the dash—it’s not in my arm.”

Brandon frowned. First things first. He needed to find somewhere for them to stay. His family had known people in the area. He wracked his brain trying to remember who might have a cabin somewhere in the area.

His parents owned properties—that were left to him when they died—but they were the first place the police would look for him.

He picked up his phone and dialed Kevin. He hated to do it, but there was no other choice.

Amanda glanced at him. “Who are you calling?”

“Kevin. We need help, Mandy. I have to get us somewhere safe.”

“Don’t call him, Brandon. Please.”

Brandon frowned. “Mandy, what else do you expect me to do? He’s the only one I know I can trust.”

“I don’t trust him—and he wouldn’t do a thing to help me, Brandon. He hates me; you know that.”

She was right about that—but Kevin didn’t hate him—and he’d help him however he could. “Mandy, we don’t have the luxury of arguing about it. I need to find a place to stay. I can’t do that without some help.”

Mandy sighed. “What about if you just took me back to the campus? I can see a doctor there. We have a medical center on the grounds.”

Brandon sighed. “No,” he said flatly. “We’re not going back there. If you hadn’t been shot, I’d just go back to the cabin—but I can’t be sure that they don’t know about it.”

“I think they were tracking my phone somehow. He—he called me and told me to go. I was afraid he’d come and get you, so I left. I wasn’t running from you—I left to try and keep you safe.”

Brandon wasn’t going to yell at her. She’d been hurt and he knew she didn’t realize how much danger she’d put them both in. “It’s okay, Mandy. We will figure this out.”

The call to Kevin went to voice-mail. “Kevin, it’s Brandon. Call me.”

A few minutes later, they were in another small town. He saw a Walgreens on a corner and pulled into the lot. He could at least get first aid supplies there. “Wait in the car, Mandy. I’m going for a first aid kit, okay?”

“Yeah. I won’t go anywhere.”

Once Mandy was alone she closed her eyes. Her arm hurt like hell. And she was exhausted. She really wanted to sleep for about twelve hours.

So much had happened. What if Brandon had been shot? She shivered at the thought. What else could she have done?

If she’d stayed, she knew that Gallager would have killed them both. She had no doubt the bomb was intended for the cabin if she hadn’t left.

She should have known that Brandon would come looking for her. It wasn’t like him to just let something go.

Stupid. It had been stupid to run.

What were they going to do now? Where would they go? Would Kevin turn them into the police? After all, Mandy had admitted lying. It was possible that Kevin could get the conviction overturned, and Mandy would be the one arrested for filing a false report.

No, she couldn’t trust Kevin—nor would he trust her.

But what could she do? Brandon didn’t know that she had some money hidden, but she’d tell him. It wasn’t safe to use any of their cards, not that she had any with her—she didn’t. All she had was the stash of cash and her ID. Her fake ID that she’d used to register for classes. She’d known it wouldn’t pass inspection with the DMV, which was why she didn’t have a car anymore.

Brandon came back to the car a moment later, bringing her out of her musings. “Got some first aid supplies.”

“Okay. Where are we going now?” she asked.

Brandon looked at her for a long moment before answering. “I’m hoping Kevin will call back and can find us somewhere remote.”

She didn’t bother telling him again about her misgivings regarding Kevin. “I see.”

“Mandy, I know you don’t trust him—but I do. He’s been with me since this nightmare began. He’s not going to turn us in.”

Mandy wasn’t so sure, but remained silent. “Where are we going in the meantime?”

“I passed a gas station a while back. I’m going to fill the tank and try to put as much distance between us and this state as I can,” he said bluntly. “What did you think I’d do?”

“I’m just asking,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. Is your arm okay? We need to stop and check it.” He didn’t like how she looked, she was too pale. After just losing blood from the window incident—and now, from a bullet wound. “God, I’m making a mess of this.”

“Didn’t you think we needed a new car?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, we do. I think I’m going to have to see if Kevin can get one. I hate to drag him into this mess, but I don’t see an alternative.”

“Okay,” she said.

Brandon saw them coming up on the gas station and pulled in. He checked his wallet. He didn’t want to use a credit card, but didn’t have much cash on him.

“I have cash,” Mandy said.

He gave her a look. “Enough to fill the tank?”

She nodded. She tossed him her purse. “In the lining.”

Brandon frowned and pulled out two twenties from the pile. “Yeah, you have cash.” He didn’t question it. Right now, it was a good thing.

He went up to the station window and paid the cashier, then came back and pumped the gas.

When they were on the road again, he turned down the first side road, into an area filled with trees, and stopped the car. “Okay, we should be safe here long enough for me to check your arm and bandage it.”

“No, let’s just get further. I’m fine,” she protested. “Just keep going.”

Brandon ignored her and cut the engine. He grabbed the bag with the first aid supplies and took off the makeshift bandage he’d made. He was frowning as he looked at the raw wound. It had bled quite a bit, he noted. Damn it, she needed to be in a hospital. The only good thing was that she’d bled enough that there was little doubt that the wound would get infected if he cleaned it well.

He cleaned it as best he could with a bottle of saline and then poured antiseptic in it and she cried out. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I need to clean it.” When he figured he’d done all he could, he covered each side with non-stick bandages, then wrapped her arm with a roll of gauze.

Mandy had silent tears coming down her face. “It hurts,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“God, don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He wiped her tears away and kissed her lightly. “Try and get some rest. I’ll stop as soon as I find somewhere safe, but I’d really like to get to the state line.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” she said, closing her eyes.

Brandon shoved the bloody bandage in the bag. The GPS told him that it was a hundred miles to the state line.

If he didn’t speed, he could make that in a bit over two hours.