Crossfire Christmas by Julie Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

their speed as they neared the bottom of the hill. “What are you, a hit man? Drug dealer? Is that what’s in that bag? Your payoff? Drugs and guns? Is there some innocent man somewhere I should have stopped to help instead of you?”
    “Less talking, more driving.”
    She nudged on the accelerator as they followed the dark ribbon of road up the next hill. “The moisture in the air is freezing on the pavement, so I don’t trust myself to turn around here. I’ll have to drive up to the next intersection or driveway to turn around and get you back to the med center.”
    “We’re not going to the hospital.”
    “Then where...?” She stomped on the brakes and they started to skid.
    His instinctive reaction to reach for the wheel burned through his shoulder like a fresh gunshot. Nash swore as the edge of the road zoomed up to his window.
    But she jerked the wheels into the skid, jerked them the other way. Leaving dirt and drift on the blacktop behind them, she steered them back to the middle of the road.
    “Easy, Peewee.” Nash gritted his teeth as new waves of pain shot through him. “We need to get there in one piece.”
    She slowed their speed and guided them back into the right lane. “Enough with the nicknames, okay?”
    He nudged back the front of his jacket and pulled the blood-soaked bandanna from beneath his vest. His time was already limited—he didn’t need a panicked driver cutting it any shorter. “I thought you were a kid when you first walked up to my truck. What are you? Five foot nothin’?”
    “I’m five-three. I’m not even the shortest one in my family, and I’m not going to have any personal conversation with you.” She glanced over at the bandanna dripping on his pant leg. “Here.” She released her death grip on the steering wheel to untie the pink scarf from her neck and pull it free. She tossed it across the seat into his lap. “Pack that against the wound. The cold temps have probably slowed the bleeding enough for you to survive this long. You need to see a doctor.”
    “I’ve got a nurse.”
    “A pediatric nurse,” she reminded him.
    Bit by bit, he stuffed the scarf beneath his vest. “Can you stitch up a wound?”
    “Yes, but you need antibiotics. Maybe even surgery. At the very least, you need an X-ray to find out what damage that bullet’s done inside you.”
    “I’m not going to any damn hospital.”
    “Then where am I taking you? The nearest cemetery?”
    “That’s a sweet bedside manner you’ve got there, darlin’.” She reached over and shut off the heat. “Turn it back on. You’re shivering.”
    “Like you care.” She shook her head. “The cold’s better for you. That’s probably the only reason why you haven’t bled to death yet.”
    “You’re a smart girl.”
    “I’m not a
girl.
” She said the word as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.
    “No, you’re not.” Her cute little curvy shape and endless backbone proved that. Her grown-up strength was also giving him an idea for plan B or C or whatever letter of the alphabet he was on now with this mess of an assignment. He could see the glow of lights in the distance now, a neighborhood or highway interchange, he guessed. But there was still no oncoming traffic or vehicles on the road behind them. The site of his crash had been swallowed up by hills and darkness. So the ambulance and cops must be coming from the south—not the direction they were headed. He’d have to play the kidnapper for a day or so longer, but he could make this work. “You married?”
    “No.”
    “Got a boyfriend? Kids? Roommate?”
    She smiled, but there was no humor in her tone. “I’ve got a big brother who’s a cop. A fugitive like you is probably already on his radar.”
    Good. “So no boyfriend, either.”
    “I didn’t say—”
    “Eyes on the road,” he warned when she glared at him again. “You don’t play the big-brother card unless you’ve got no other man in your life to stick up for you. You