Line of Fire by Cindy Dees Page B

unprepared, busting my ass to save your tush, and I’d appreciate it if you could see fit to give me a little cooperation.”
    Her eyes abruptly filled with tears, their emerald depths swimming with misery, fatigue, hunger and fright.
    Aw, hell.
    He pulled her close, wrapping her in a tight hug. She sobbed against his chest, muffling the sound for the most part. He hated the feel of her shaking in his arms, her whole frame trembling as she cried out her fear and stress. He wanted to make it all better. But there was just no easy way out of this. Frustration twisted his gut.
    It was a couple minutes before she lifted her head and looked up at him. Tear tracks streaked her ivory cheeks. Somehow she managed to look beautiful even with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose. Hell, she even cried classy.
    “Feel better?” he asked gruffly.
    “Not really. But at least I’m not holding all that in anymore.”
    “Well, that’s something,” he replied wryly. He looked down at the ground and then back up at her. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and make this all go away. But I can’t. We’ve just got to press on and do the best we can.”
    She nodded on a wobbly breath.
    “I’m in this with you to the end, Princess. Whatever happens to you happens to me. We either make it out together or we go down together. Okay?”
    She gazed up at him seriously. “You know as well as I do that you could make it out of here without any trouble if you were alone. If the situation becomes hopeless, why wouldn’t you cut your losses and at least get out yourself?”
    He blinked in surprise. “That’s not how we do business in Charlie Squad. We all make it out together or not at all.”
    “You honestly wouldn’t abandon me if it came down to a choice of both of us dying or saving yourself?” Disbelief filled her voice.
    What or who had turned her into such a cynic? With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up and forced her to look him in the eye. “Kimberly, I am a man of my word. I have told you the way it’s going to be and I mean it. It’ll be all or nothing with us. Got it?”
    She stared at him with a combination of skepticism and pain. “Heroes only exist in comic books, Tex,” she whispered in a choked voice.
    He snorted inelegantly. “Heroes are all around you, every day. They come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes they perform tiny acts of courage and sometimes they pull off stunts so spectacular you wonder where they even got the notion to try.”
    She shook her head, denying the truth of what he said.
    His gut clenched with a need to convince her she was wrong. “Heroes are the family members who’ve lost loved ones to tragedy but go on. They’re the teachers who work with kids society’s given up on.” He cast around for more examples. “What about single parents? Hell, people with lousy jobs they hate, but who go to work every day rather than take a handout. The world is full of people doing decent, brave, honorable things.”
    She answered quietly, “That’s where you and I are different. You look for the best in people and I see the worst.”
    “Who did a number on you to make you like this?” he asked angrily.
    She shrugged. A world of pain—and the unspoken answer to his question—shone in her eyes. She knew who’d made a cynic out of her, all right. Ten to one her old man had something to do with it.
    But he’d pushed enough for one day. He backed off, literally and figuratively, and kicked the termite mound. He ate several more handfuls of the larvae quickly. If he found some “real” food for Kimberly, he’d let her have all of it.
    “Let’s get going,” he said quietly. “There’s another hour of good light left.”
    She sighed and fell in behind him.
    He added over his shoulder, “I’ll keep an eye out for something non-disgusting for you to eat.”
    Her hand touched his back lightly. “Thank you,” she murmured.
    He wasn’t entirely certain what she was thanking him for, but