Deadly Lies (Deadly 3)

The cold water lapped at Max with greedy, grasping hands.

I-I wanted to die. By the fifth time, I begged to die.

Hell, no, he wouldn’t leave Samantha in that water. “Then shoot, ass**le, shoot!” Max dove under the water, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the agonizing throb in his leg.

Bullets blasted into the river, shooting around him. He struck out, swimming awkwardly because his leg was nearly useless. Get to the car. Get her.

His hand struck metal. The VW. He grabbed the door, wrenching it open more and—

Fingers touched his. Soft.

Samantha was there, kicking out of the car as bubbles rose from her lips. Max grabbed her. Pulling her close, he sealed his lips to hers, and gave her the last breath he’d taken.

Her body shuddered against his. He knew that she wanted to kick up. The surface was temptingly close.

But so was Quinlan. The brother he’d tried to protect. The one who wanted to kill him and his lover.

They couldn’t swim straight up. They’d be perfect targets. He’ll take us out as fast as he can, and leave us in the water.

An easy way to dispose of their bodies.

Samantha kicked against him, trying to rise, but he wrapped his arms around her, held tight, and pushed her down.

Her eyes opened, wide and panicked as she stared at him. He shook his head, needing her to understand. Desperate for her to see…

But there was fear on her face because he was shoving her farther down, farther…

A thick line of woods waited on the eastern side. If he could get them closer to the bank, they might have a chance to run for it. Better than nothing. He pushed her toward that side and kicked as best he could as they fought the current.

But Max had used all his strength to push her, and the bullet wounds were taxing him, draining him fast. His lungs burned, and he knew they’d have to rise soon.

The fire in his lungs burned hotter. Samantha’s eyes were on his. Wide. Dark.

So beautiful. Maybe the last thing that he’d ever see would be her pale face surrounded by the floating cloud of her hair.

Another bubble slipped past her lips.

They had to take a breath. Max kicked up. She kicked too, fast and desperate, and they drove up toward the surface.

Before he broke through the water, Max knew they weren’t far enough away. Not even close. But maybe Quinlan would be looking the wrong way. Looking toward the spot where the car went down.

Just need a few moments.

The water lightened. He could see the bright rays of the sun. Close, so close.

They burst through the surface. They both sucked in deep gulps of air as hard as they could. Max spun around, shoving her behind him, because there wouldn’t be much time.

His eyes found Quinlan. He saw his brother whirl toward them—saw him lift the gun and smile. Max braced himself as he got ready to take the third hit.

The thunder of the gun almost deafened him. But that hadn’t been Quinlan’s gun. It had been Samantha’s. She’d lifted her arm out of the water and fired the small weapon he’d never even seen when he’d pulled her from the car. Quinlan staggered back with a look of utter shock on his face. Blood ballooned on his chest in a thick, wide circle, and he fell back into the water, slipping out of sight.

Samantha’s hand was rock steady, and the gun stayed pointed at the spot where his brother had been standing seconds before.

Max’s breath panted out, matching hers, and he looped his arm around her waist as he pulled her close.

“We’ve got to go,” she whispered, her lips feathering against his neck. “We have to, Max. I-I don’t think he’s dead.”

He started struggling for the shore.

“I… lost my glasses… couldn’t see…” She choked a bit, sputtering water.

His feet hit the rocky bottom. “Go to my car,” he ordered, aware that the liquid dripping down his body wasn’t all water. “Go…. I’ll be…”

He fell, half in the water, half on the shore.

“Max?” Her hands were on him. “Max, you’ve been shot!”

He struggled to his knees. “Go!”

“Not without you.” She tried to grab him, and he realized she was holding her gun with her left hand because the right hand hung limp. Broken.

And blood oozed from the cuts on her forehead and on her arms.

I’ll kill him. The brother he’d tried so hard to protect. The monster hiding in plain sight.

They staggered together and managed to get up the damn slope. Samantha had her gun. She was ready, sweeping the area for Quinlan, but that little bastard wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Need your phone,” Samantha whispered.

“Fucker had me throw it out.” He’d get her to his car, force her inside, then find Quinlan. Get the gun. The gun he’d taken from Samantha was inside the rental car. He’d get it, leave her with the weapon she had, and finish this nightmare.

Max pushed forward. His left leg dragged behind him and his arm lay across Samantha’s shoulder. She shuddered against him. Wet, fragile. He had to bite back the rage that threatened to choke him. Quinlan had gone after her.

In the water. Fuck. Her worst nightmare.

The car waited just steps away. Max’s gaze raked the area, left to right. Where was Quinlan? Where?

Max didn’t speak. He shoved forward through the pain. Then he was at his car. Finally. He yanked open the door, pushed Samantha inside—

A loud, furious shout froze him. Max spun around and saw Quinlan running from behind the black truck. The gun wasn’t in his hand anymore; maybe he’d lost it in the water. Quinlan held a knife. The edge gleamed, reflecting the light as Quinlan charged right at them.

Samantha pushed away from the car and lifted her gun. “Drop it!” Her own scream vibrated with rage. “Don’t make me do it, Quinlan, don’t make me—”

But he kept running toward her.

Samantha squeezed the trigger, but this time the gun just made a snick. Water droplets flew to the ground but the damn gun didn’t fire.

Jammed. Shit. She’d been lucky the gun fired the first shot. The water—

Quinlan raised the knife high up into the air. Max shoved Samantha to the ground, and the knife caught him, slashing across the back of his arm.

“Always thought you were better…” Quinlan rasped at him. “Fucking show you… fucking show everyone…”

The knife swung again and sliced across Max’s arm as he tried to hold off his brother.

Bile rose in his throat but Max managed to dodge the next blow. He grabbed Quinlan’s wrist, holding tight, keeping the blade up and away from his face. “You need help! Don’t you see that?”