Sarah hesitated for a split second, then ran, keeping low, zigzagging toward the garage. A bullet kicked up dirt near her foot. Another whizzed past her ear. She ducked behind a hedge, breathing hard.
Twenty more yards. She could make it. She took a deep breath and sprinted for the garage's side door.
More gunshots. A burning sensation across her arm. She didn't stop, didn't look back. She slammed through the door, finding herself among luxury vehicles. No sign of Diego or Marco's men.
Footsteps approached from outside. Sarah ducked behind a Range Rover, finally raising the gun Diego had given her. Her hands were surprisingly steady now. If she was going to die, she wouldn't make it easy for them.
The side door opened slowly. Sarah aimed, finger tensing on the trigger.
Diego slipped inside, bloody and disheveled but alive. Relief flooded through her.
"You made it," he breathed, spotting her. "Are you hurt?"
"Grazed," she indicated her arm. "Marco's been shot. He needs help."
"My men h
