Desert Ice Daddy by Marton, Dana (best motivational novels .txt) 📗

thought of him as a gentleman, a consummate businessman, with a sharp mind and a lot of kindness behind those dark eyes. She’d caught glimpses of fire, too, now and then, fire that, for the most, he kept carefully hidden.

But he was a warrior, too.

A warrior on her side.

“I know I said you should go back—”

“Taylor. Not now. Let’s give that a rest.” The tone of his voice indicated that this particular topic was beginning to try his patience.

“I’m trying to say that I’m really, really happy that you’re here.”

He was silent for a moment. “As I said, I’m not going anywhere without you and Christopher,” he said, then stopped to stare at a stocky building with a tall, round brick chimney towering over it.

If chimney was the right word. The thing was more like a skinny tower, situated on the ground next to the building and reaching toward the sky, tapering toward the top.

They could hear voices coming from behind the storage tower they had just left. Two men at least, probably looking for them.

“I think they’re going in the other direction. For now,” Akeem said.

Oh, no. She had a bad feeling about this. “We are climbing again, aren’t we?”

“From the ground, there is only one way into the building,” he said. “I really think he is here.”

And she had to agree. That was where the pickups were parked.

“So it’s a given that the entrance would be guarded. We can’t go in through there,” he went on.

She really hated what was coming.

“But the chimney runs all the way up the side of the building, and there’s a short connecting bridge up there.” He pointed up.

He did have super vision, she thought after a moment, when after considerable effort she finally made out the dim lines of something that might have been the bridge he was talking about.

“How is your arm?” he asked again.

“Fine.” As long as she didn’t think about it. Which wasn’t hard. Compared to the fact that they could be shot at any minute, compared to her worries about Christopher, the dull throb in her arm barely merited attention.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You’re pretty tough, for a girl.”

He’d used to tell her that back in the day all the time. Of course, she’d had a tendency to show off for him back then.

“Did I have to grow up with Flint or what? Self-preservation was the name of the game.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I bet.”

They stood there for a long moment before she realized why they had stopped moving. To reach the chimney they were headed for, they would have to walk out into the open, no other way to get there. He was probably worried. About her. But she couldn’t let that stop him. They were here for Christopher. She was willing to risk any amount of bodily injury to get him back.

So she stepped out of the shadows first and kept low as she ran toward the side of the building opposite them, her gun ready. There were no windows on this side, but the walls were made of corrugated steel in places and had plenty of holes. If anyone was looking, they’d definitely be seen.

She held her breath until she reached the wall, flattened against it just as Akeem caught up with her a second later.

“Maybe they didn’t see us.” She caught her breath that was labored not from the effort, but from sheer nerves.

“Maybe they’re busy setting a trap.”

“You want to scare me?” They’d made it through the open; he could have been more positive just for a second.

“I want you to think before you act.” His voice had some bite to it. “Or, at least, give some warning before you leap.”

Okay. Fine. He was right. She was about to say so, but he was already heading toward the chimney that had a row of frighteningly rusty metal spikes going up the side.

No guardrail.

Clouds drifted across the moon, dimming visibility further yet, but as she stepped to the towering chimneystack, she could make out now that it was a lot bigger around than she’d judged from afar. Over twelve feet in diameter at the base, if not more. Not as flimsy as it had looked. Thank God for that.

He tested the first spike, stepped on it, reached as far as he could, tested that spike before putting his weight on it, then placed his foot on the next. “Try to put your feet where I do,” he said.

No problem there. She had plenty of motivation to pay attention.

“And stay a little back,” he warned.

He meant in case he slipped, she realized after a moment and was glad he thought of everything. She was too frazzled to think beyond the next step, her mind on Christopher.

She would not allow herself to think that her little boy might not be here.

The climb was nerve-racking, and she prayed all the way. They were nearly level with the roof when a shout sounded somewhere inside the building. The first bullet wasn’t far behind.

No time to finagle their way onto the narrow brick bridge that served not as a walkway but as a link to secure the chimney to the building and give it extra stability. Akeem lunged, caught the edge of the flat roof, swung his legs and pulled himself up, then reached for her. She had to let go and catapult herself over the five-foot gap that stood between the chimney and the building.

For a moment, she had nothing beneath her but air and a hundred-foot drop to a cement slab below. The she felt Akeem’s hand close around hers.

She had just enough time to catch her breath before she realized that she was slipping.

She grabbed with her other hand and caught his sleeve, heard and felt the fabric rip. Another bullet slammed into the old bricks close enough to send dust into her eyes.

She blinked, trying to clear the tears that gathered to wash out the dust particles, as she dangled over