Her side hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, told herself she was crying from the pain. She couldn’t be crying for Danny. Not until she knew for sure.
The men were talking ahead of her, taking their time. She pressed a hand to her side and followed the sound of their voices. She was careful not to trip, not to make any noise at all.
By the time they reached the compound, she was dizzy with pain. Sneaking anywhere, climbing through any windows, was out of the question. She stayed in the woods, out of sight and waited.
After a while, a slow rain began to fall, not much, just enough to chill her. She burrowed against a fallen log and covered herself with leaves.
She must have dozed because she woke to the dog barking as the men returned. They stepped from the woods into the morning light one by one. They had Danny with them. Her heart lurched.
Four men carried him, his limbs hanging listlessly, his face covered with blood. His clothes were torn beyond recognition, exposing raw flesh. She had to look down, away from the sight.
He was dead.
Her heart stopped. Tears flushed her eyes, cold pain spreading in her tightening chest.
Sweet Lord, what had they done to him?
She glanced up at the sound of shouting, saw more men run from the barracks, watched as they tossed Danny into a small wooden hut. What were they going to do with his body?
After a while, the men settled down around the fires. Somebody started breakfast. There were few jokes and little merriment despite their apparent success.
And as she looked from one to the next, she realized why. A number of them were almost as beat up as Danny, a couple nursing bullet wounds. She wondered how many were missing. Danny wouldn’t have allowed himself to be taken easily.
She slunk to the right and limped around the buildings, counted them out to find the right one. She still had Pete’s phone, which was under the bed that had hidden her earlier, but she couldn’t make her move for it until she gathered a little strength—maybe when the men went to sleep. Until then, at least, she wanted to stay close to what was left of Danny.
“Can’t get two hours of sleep together in this place, damn it.” Someone was grumbling inside one of the huts. “Now I gotta go back out again or I’ll be late for work.” He swore long and hard. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this face to the line boss? He’ll think I’ve been out drinking and fighting. He’s been on my ass as it is.”
Kaye moved on and after a while could no longer hear the guy. She found the back of the hut she’d been looking for and peeked through the slats in the wood. All of the buildings were like that, badly made with plenty of gaps. She could make out Danny’s dark bulk on the ground for a while before tears flooded her eyes again and she could no longer see.
A hodgepodge of pictures flashed through her mind. When they’d first met, when he’d saved her up in her attic, when he had tried to kiss her and she’d pushed him away. She wished now that she hadn’t done that. She’d pushed him away for what? For pride? For false modesty? For some misguided notion that she owed it to her image? Her career?
And now he was dead, had given his life for her.
She pulled up her knees and rested her forehead on them. Her body hurt all over, inside and out. She wanted to stay there as she was, give up, let them find her. But some well of stubbornness inside, maybe something she’d inherited from her grandfather, wouldn’t let her quit.
She would get out, no matter what she had to do. She would get out and bring these people to justice.
A small sound made her look up. Her muscles stiffened as she listened. Was anyone coming? She glanced around, toward the bushes just a few feet ahead of her, came up into a crouch, ready to move.
The sound came again, a small groan from behind her—from the hut.
She pressed against the wall, desperate to see.
“Danny?”
No response.
Was his chest moving? She stared without blinking, but couldn’t tell. His finger. His finger looked like it might have twitched for a second.
Could he be still alive?
The possibility loosened some of the tightness in her heart, adrenaline kicking its way through the rest of her body.
He groaned. A definite sound. Coming from him.
“Danny?” She shoved her fingers between the boards, ignoring the splinters. “I’m right here.”
His body shuddered as he rolled onto his back, then looked at her—or tried. His eyes were just about swollen shut.
He said something, but she couldn’t understand him. He said it again. “Go.”
Before she could protest, the door banged open. She snatched her hand back. The two men who entered didn’t look friendly.
The taller of the two started out by kicking Danny in the side. “Who do you work for?”
Danny didn’t respond.
The man kicked him harder. “Did you have anybody with you?”
The other guy hauled him up from the ground and held him while his buddy punched him in the stomach. And when he still wouldn’t talk, the man did it over and over again.
They were going to finish him off—beat him to death.
She needed a weapon. She glanced around and found nothing but small sticks. Maybe something in camp.
Stones and branches cut into her skin as she crawled on her stomach. About twenty men sat around the campfires, some tending their injuries.
She glanced at the nearest window. If she were to get inside one of the buildings it would have to be through the back. But not this cabin. Voices filtered from inside.
She moved back into the bushes and went around, keeping an eye on the men and the dog that was busy begging for scraps. As long as the dog didn’t notice her, she was all right.
A small shovel leaned against the oak at the edge of the clearing. Would that help? Had to be better than nothing, although not nearly as good as a rifle would have been. Watch the ground. Don’t step on a branch. Keep low.
She moved little by little until she was directly behind the tree. The only thing left to do was to reach out and grab the shovel. She waited and watched. How quickly could she grab something that was out in plain sight? What if somebody saw her?
Danny would die if she didn’t help him.
Somebody swore loudly in the cabin where he was being held, then the sounds of beating resumed. A couple of people laughed around the fires, their attention momentarily diverted.
Kaye grabbed the shovel and pulled it behind the tree, then waited motionless.
Nobody raised the alarm.
She took a long breath and moved back further, into the woods. The going was slow and painful. She was careful not to disturb any bush, not to make any noise. The cabin was quiet when she got back to it.
She refused to think, simply acted. If she thought at all, she would have had to consider that the silence meant she was too late, and she couldn’t accept that. She moved up to the boards inch by inch, looked through the gap.
There were two bodies on the floor, a man bent over them, collecting weapons. He moved as if he were broken. But she knew those wide shoulders. The muscles in her shoulders that had been drawn so tight they hurt, finally relaxed a little.
Danny.
“I’m here.” Her whisper stopped him as he headed for the door.
He came to her and knelt on the ground, brushed his fingers over hers through the gap. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
She held up the shovel with her other hand. “I got this.”
She couldn’t tell for sure in the dark of the hut and with his face all messed up, but he might have grinned. “You were going to dig me out?” He kicked at the dirt floor, apparently considering.
“I would have done whatever I could.” She hadn’t gotten as far as actually making a plan. She’d taken the first tool/weapon she could find and rushed back to him.
“It could work,” he said and thought for a moment. “Since you’re still
here, I probably shouldn’t just go out there and start a war.” He put the guns down. “Wedge the shovel between the boards like this.”
She did as he showed her. The dried-out board gave with a quiet pop. Enough room opened up for her to pass the shovel to him and he did the rest. Once four of the boards were pushed aside, he had enough room to squeeze out sideways.
He gave her a handgun and kept the rifle. “Let’s go.”
She followed him into the woods, toward safety as dawn began to light up the sky. They made it. They’d gotten away. Danny was alive. She kept focused on those thoughts instead of on her side that hurt with every step. She pressed her hand to the wound and kept pace with him, step after step. Him carrying her was out of the question now; he could barely carry himself.
They were pitifully slow—both of their bodies damaged. Still, they walked a good hour before he allowed them a break.
“We can afford a few minutes.” He looked her over carefully, touching her with so much tenderness, it made her throat ache. “How are you holding up?” he asked with his head cocked and those incredible eyes watching her face through swollen lids.
His skin had split over one eyebrow, both of his cheekbones and his chin. His nose was swollen and starting to turn dark. She rubbed away the tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Are you hurting a lot?” His hands—knuckles busted—came to her shoulders.
She shook her head. “What have they done to you? You were so beautiful,” she said through more tears, her emotions taking over now that they were relatively safe, making her babble.
He gave a strangled laugh that made his split lip bleed. “You thought so, huh? Good to know.”
He was either trying to wink or give her a cocky leer, she couldn’t tell which since his face wasn’t working right.
“What else? Did you think about me a lot?”
She laughed, almost giddy all of a sudden. They were finally away from camp and still alive. Near death sure put all her other worries in perspective. She wiped her tears. “Not much, really.”
“Uh-hum.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. That’s the trouble with handsome young guys. There’s just no end to their conceit.” She rolled her eyes dramatically as she limped away.
“Hey, who are you calling handsome?” He came after her.
It wasn’t funny. Really. Not with his face beaten as badly as it was, but the way he said it made her smile again. And then she turned too fast, which brought on a flash of pain. She touched her hand to her side.
He was all serious the next second. “Are you in pain?”
“Not as much as you are. At least I had a little time to heal.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been worse.”
“Than what? Resurrected?” The only way she could picture him worse would have been if he was dead.
His swollen lips twitched.
He needed medical help. So did she.
“What’s this?” She stared at the spot of fresh blood on his shoulder.
“Got nicked. Flesh wound.” He shrugged it off.
“I want to put something on it before we go.”
“If it makes you feel better.” He ripped off the whole sleeve and handed it to her.
She did the best she could under the circumstances. “I’m sorry I lost the phone. We could go back—”
“I could go back,” he said. “But there’s no way I’m leaving you behind again. I’m going to get you out of here as fast as I can.”
“But we have to let the Colonel know about the Summit. What if we don’t get out of here in time?”
“We will.” He took a deep breath and stood. “Ready?”
She wasn’t. She got up anyway.
They walked another hour then rested again, this time by a creek. They stayed longer than before and took the opportunity to wash. She took care of his face as best she could and placed handfuls of leaves soaked in cold water over the worst of his injuries, hoping the makeshift poultice would take down the swelling.
She was the one now who wanted to press her lips to his, to feel them warm and alive. She couldn’t. The condition he was in, she would probably have hurt him.
Little by little, they made their way toward civilization, walking as best they could, taking short breaks as frequently as they dared. By nightfall, they still hadn’t reached the road.
“We’re going to have to spend the night here.” Danny scanned their surroundings in the twilight.
“You think the road is that far?”
“A couple of miles. Maybe as many as five.”
Her legs trembled as she sat on the ground. He was right. Even if he could make it, she couldn’t.
He patted his pockets. “Sorry, they took everything from me. You must be hungry.”
Her empty stomach was burning with acid. She’d had two protein bars to eat in two days. “I’ll be fine.”
“I could scare up a few bugs.”
“No thanks.”
“Roots?”
“No digging. You need to rest. We won’t starve until tomorrow.”
He nodded. “If we were by a road, we could look for road kill. Don’t look like that. I had to eat it during training. Everything tastes like chicken when you’re starving. Of course, if we were by a road, we could flag a car down and have him take us to a diner.”
“I vote for that.”
“It’s probably not a good idea to start a fire,” he said. “We shouldn’t need one anyway. It’s warm enough.”
She nodded, too tired to care.
He had her repeat one more time everything she’d heard at camp. Then the time came to settle down. They scraped together a bed of leaves. He rolled onto them first, waited for her. Here we go. She lay next to him, careful not to touch, and turned her back.
“If you notice any visitors, let me know,” he said from behind.
“You think they still might find us?” She turned her head so she could see his face in the moonlight.
“There’s always a chance for everything. But I was talking about other kinds of visitors, too. Like bears. Snakes seek out warm places at night.”
“Thanks for helping me fall asleep.”
He put a hand on her arm. “I don’t want you to be scared, but I want you to be prepared for everything.”
He was right. Better to be ready for any possibility than to be caught by surprise and panic. She turned to him fully. “Do you do this kind of thing a lot?”
“As often as necessary. I have to say, though—” His lips, barely swollen now, stretched into a smile. “You’re by far the most beautiful partner I’ve ever had.”
She was stiff with tension, expecting either the men or the local wildlife to attack them at any minute. How could he joke at a time like this? And him calling her beautiful wasn’t fair, either. She could never forget the age difference between them, resented him just now for making her want to be something she wasn’t.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me.” She was flustered enough to pull a few inches further away.
“Why?” he asked, then his face went all serious. Too serious.
She froze. “What?” Oh God, tell me there isn’t a bear behind me.
“I was just thinking that if you didn’t like kissing me before I was all messed up, there’s probably no chance of getting a good-night kiss now that I look like I went a few rounds in a blender.”
“It’s not that. I—” She probably shouldn’t say this. “I liked kissing you.”
The lopsided smile that split his face reached all the way to her heart. She couldn’t seriously be thinking about this. Hadn’t she been annoyed at him just a minute ago? She was pitiful. Pathetic. She had to have more sense than this.
What the hell. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his.
Oh God, now I’ve gone and done it, was her last coherent thought. Then she could do nothing but feel—with every heartbeat, with every pore, the incredible sweetness of the moment fill
ing her from the inside out, like some hidden water vein, rising up, filling a drying well.
He didn’t push for more. If he had, she would probably have pulled away. Instead, she brushed her mouth over his, then moved on to place gentle kisses over the bruises on his face. When they were done, a mutual unspoken agreement as if they thought with the same heart, she snuggled up against him, pressing her face against his neck, and let him hold her as tightly as he wanted.
“It’s perfect,” he said.
And she remembered another night a million years ago with an old boyfriend, who’d said that for a man, any encounter with a woman that didn’t end in sex was considered incomplete and unsatisfactory.
She glanced up at Danny. His eyes told her all she needed to know.
“Perfect,” she whispered against his skin. Because for this moment, he was. And since it was only a moment, she could allow herself to enjoy it instead of worrying about it.
She soaked up his heat and breathed him in. His strength was all around her. For the first time in years, despite the peril around them, she slept as peacefully as a child.
THE MAN stalked through the woods with determination. She was still out there somewhere. How far could she have gotten, injured like that? Not far. He had cut her good—good enough so that he’d thought she was dead. He wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. Next time he would make damned sure the job was finished.
He was a hunter by nature and good at it. Once he picked his prey, he didn’t stop until he succeeded. He had tracked a ten-point buck once for three weeks through the woods, living off the land. The antlers were nailed over his front door.
He would find Kaye Miller. Hunting was in his blood. He didn’t know how to stop until the kill was made. And this hunt proved to be more challenging, more exciting than any he had done before. His prey was smart, but he didn’t expect her to give him much more sport. He’d seen the blood at the hospital and in the body bag. If she kept moving, the wound wouldn’t get the chance to close. Most likely, she was down by now, holed up somewhere, too weak from blood loss. Chances were better than good that she was already dead.
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