Miss No One, Mark Ayre [romantic love story reading .TXT] 📗

wouldn't work. His actions showed he was cautious as well as deadly. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to focus only on moving forward. Repeatedly, he would check behind him, covering all angles. He wouldn't leave anything to chance.

Car four, car five, car six.

Smoker moved down another price bracket. This was going to be tight. Abbie could hear him getting closer, drawing in. By now, he was only a few cars away. Soon, she'd be able to hear him breathing.

Car seven, car eight.

Smoker had also moved again. Straight ahead, from his perspective, was his side-on car. It formed a barrier behind two more Ford's. One more move, and he would put himself in a little cul de sac. To proceed, he would need to vault his vehicle.

Car nine. The bumper of car ten was a couple of inches from the bumper of Smoker's getaway vehicle. Keeping Baldie's gun firmly in hand, Abbie withdrew his car key. Her finger hovered over the soft, black button. The tiniest of compressions would cause the car's lights to flash. The car's confirmation blip and the heavy clunk of the locks disengaging would disturb the quiet night.

In short, there was no way to unlock the car without alerting Smoker to her presence. Worse, his next move would put him by the driver's door. Abbie would only be able to enter through the passenger side.

She heard feet crunch through the gravel—Smoker's final move. Abbie heard him rush into the cul de sac and turn, dropping to the ground with his back against his car door.

A moment later, the car light's flashed. Abbie heard the blip, and the car's central locks disengage.

Not her move. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening.

Abbie had assumed Smoker was trying to find her. That he planned to end her life in revenge for her attack against his people.

The driver side door opened.

Abbie had been wrong.

Smoker wasn't searching for her.

He was fleeing.

She heard him jump into the driver's seat and slam the door. In a second, the key would be in the ignition, turning. In maybe five, Smoker would have his foot on the gas.

He wouldn't want to leave his people behind. He was putting his safety ahead of the mission.

What would Orion think of that?

Now was not the time to consider such matters. Abbie had to act.

The key turned in the ignition. The engine roared to life. Getting to her feet, Abbie rushed towards the car.

Abbie believed she had given Smoker a lot of credit earlier by deciding it wasn't safe to try and circle around behind him as he crept towards his car from the dealership.

Maybe she hadn't given him enough.

The moment she rose, a bullet smacked the back windshield and shattered the glass.

Abbie dropped with the crack. Two more shots followed the first, but all three sailed over Abbie's head, safely into the dark.

But Abbie wasn't safe.

As he was pulling the trigger, Smoker had thrown his car into reverse. Releasing the hand brake, he smashed his foot into the pedal, and the vehicle flew back.

Abbie was only a handful of feet behind the rear wheels.

The spinning rubber kicked up gravel and dirt, sending it spraying in all directions. The car roared as it flew back, like a hungry beast excited and agitated to devour its prey.

Fast reaction speeds and a finely tuned body, not to mention a sharp mind, had saved Abbie's skin on multiple occasions. While throwing herself to the ground in response to the bullets flying through the windshield of Smoker's car, Abbie had already been anticipating the enemy's next move. The moment she hit the deck, she was rolling onto her front. Bringing up her knees, she planted her feet into the gravel and shoved up with her hands, firing herself between two cars.

Like a battering ram, Smoker's vehicle shot past, missing Abbie's feet by an inch.

Earlier, Abbie had mounted and dismounted the chain-link fence into the dealership with some grace. There had been no time to worry about such things when dodging the speeding vehicle, so Abbie's rolling escape was awkward. She twisted her ankle and smacked her skull into the ground.

Her head was spinning as she rose, her ankle screaming.

Having shot backwards down the aisle of cars, Smoker hit the brakes when he realised he'd missed his target. Presumably muttering in annoyance, he threw the car into gear and hit the accelerator again.

This time, the car shot forward.

Abbie was crouching and backing away as Smoker once more hit the brakes. While trying to run Abbie down, he'd found the time to open his window. The two cars between which Abbie had dived created a tunnel. Smoker lined up his open window perfectly with his target.

Grey stubble covered his jaw and head; his eyes were steel blue and sharp. His grin was manic.

His gun was aimed at Abbie's head.

He fired, and Abbie sprang, jumping onto the car to her left, sliding over the bonnet and landing on the other side bad ankle first.

She screamed, smashed into the gravel. Forced herself to roll again, to rise again. To spin and point her gun down this new tunnel, next door to the one against which Smoker had previously stopped.

Smoker hit the accelerator, jerked forward to the new tunnel.

Abbie fired three shots.

Smoker ducked, screamed with fury. Slammed his foot onto the pedal.

The car shot off in an arc, as though the aisle between the fifth and sixth ring was a NASCAR track.

Rising, Abbie released the half-empty clip from her gun and slammed a new one home. The pain in her ankle was bearable. A low, dull ache. She had to limp, but that was okay. So long as she didn't need to run.

Smoker was around the building's rear, still going.

Abbie stepped into the aisle, into the path of the oncoming car.

It was curving around the building. Abbie raised her gun, waited.

Three, two, one.

The car swooped back around the building's front, speeding towards Abbie.

She aimed at the windscreen.

Smoker stomped on the accelerator, speeding, speeding.

Abbie pulled