by Diana Duncan
“Don’t get braggarly. It’s not becoming in a saint.”
He gave her an innocent stare. “I was merely agreeing with you.” He cleaned his hands with the wet wipe she passed him, and rose. With the makeshift flag draped over a brawny bare shoulder, he hoisted himself into the tree and began to climb.
She returned the water bottle to her bag and apprehensively watched his upward progress. Scaling a hundred-foot tree in formal slacks and slick dress shoes in the dark couldn’t be easy. “Won’t the bad guys spot the flag and track us?”
His quiet reply floated down from far above. “I’m hanging it on the ocean side. Anyone on the island won’t see it because of the trees. It will only be visible from the air or water. We’ll hole up in a separate location.”
“You are talented.” Zoe balled her hands into fists and shoved them into the jacket pockets. Her right knuckles brushed soft silk. So that’s where he’d stashed his cummerbund and bow tie. She quit talking, for fear she’d distract him and make him fall. Instead, she watched silently for long, heart-shaking minutes until she could no longer see his movements, and then lowered her gaze.
Her breath froze in her lungs as a husky blond man slunk out of the shadowed forest and pointed a pistol at her. “My hunch paid off. Look what I found. A babe in the woods.” He bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. She preferred the cougar’s toothy snarl. He looked up, and she held her breath. “What were you eyeballing in that tree?”
What indeed? “A-a-an owl.”
“A bird watching a bird.” He laughed heartily at his own bad joke. “Where’s the dude?”
The acid taste of fear leached the moisture from her mouth. The guy was several inches shorter than Aidan, but had at least twenty pounds on him. Not fat…bulky. Solid muscle, like he spent all his time at the gym. Terror iced her veins, but she feigned nonchalance. “What dude?”
“The one who obviously scored big in the last hour.” Muscle Man’s leering gaze oozed down her body, making her long for hot water and a gallon jug of antibacterial soap. “I liked the ‘do-me’ dress better, but this has possibilities.”
“He—he’s in there somewhere,” she lied, gesturing vaguely at the forest. “Gathering wood for a fire. He told me to wait.”
“And no wonder.” He moved closer, and she took a step back. I bet he wants another taste. You’re a juicy little trick.”
She strained to hear Aidan, but sensed no movement, no sound. “Yeah. Bite me. I’ll give you heartburn.”
The man tightened his grip on the gun and waved the pistol at her. “The boss said you were brainy. He admires that.”
“Really? I wonder what he sees in you?” He stepped forward and she again stepped back. Unlike the cougar, invading this predator’s space wouldn’t intimidate him.
“He hired me for my brawn, not my brains.” He moved closer, continuing the obscene dance.
“Ya think?” Her hands brushed bark and closed over the tree limb Aidan had carried up the hill. Uh-oh. She’d backed into the pine where Aidan was trapped, a sitting target. If Mr. Muscle spotted him and started shooting, Aidan had nowhere to go. Her heart galloped. No. Aidan would not get hurt or…worse. She gulped. Not if she had anything to say about it.
Gripping the branch, she surreptitiously edged around the immense trunk. “So, where are your pals?”
Muscle-bound jerked his head toward the woods. “I told them we should check up here. They’re probably rappin’ with your man. We’re real friendly, once you get to know us.”
She was so not getting friendly with him. Or sticking around long enough to get to know him, or his boss. Zoe’s fingers tensed on the branch as she prepared mentally and physically for what she had to do.
Mr. Muscle would follow her without a doubt. Whether he’d shoot her in the back was another question, one she refused to worry about. She’d either survive the next few minutes, or not. Either way, Aidan would have a fighting chance. She couldn’t run very fast in these danged heels, but all she had to do was lead the bad guy far enough away for Aidan to get his feet on the ground.
She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s been a thrill-a-minute chatting with you…” She swung the branch out from behind her and threw it at his head. “But I have to run.”
He instinctively flung up his hands to ward off the limb, and Zoe sprinted toward the forest.
Chapter 10
July 27, 1:00 a.m.
Zoe tore into the underbrush and zigzagged as quickly as she dared through the treacherous woods. Muscle Man was faster than he looked. A lot faster. She’d barely covered fifty feet before he tackled her and knocked her to the ground.
He rolled, flipped her onto her back and pinned her down in the ferns. His body pressed full-length on hers, and the air punched out of Zoe’s lungs. Oh, God, that better be a gun at his waistband and not…
She tried to suck in enough air to fight. Better a fast, clean death than rape. Kicking, clawing, she struggled beneath him. Never let them see your fear. She infused every ounce of toughness she could muster into her order. “Get off me, creep.”
His coarse laughter scraped away her thin veneer of bravado. “Don’t get your thong in a twist. The boss doesn’t like used merchandise.” He snagged the front of her jacket and jerked her upright. He dragged her back to the clearing like a Rottweiler with a rag doll.
He restrained her with one hand and tugged the pistol from his waistband with the other. “We have orders to bring you in undamaged. The cop, on the other hand, is fair game.”
Panic screamed through her. Had he spotted Aidan? Her covert glance darted around the area. Aidan wasn’t on the ground. Relief made her weak when she needed strength. He hadn’t had time to climb completely down. Panic surged back. What if he was low enough to be seen?
She squared her chin. Get a grip, girl. You can’t help Aidan if you freak. She could at least create a distraction to keep Muscles from looking around. “You would have been disappointed if I hadn’t at least tried to escape.”
Her captor yanked her against him, and his hand slid beneath the tuxedo jacket. He grabbed her breast and squeezed hard. “Makes me want to keep you close, babe.”
Her stomach lurched in revulsion. Apparently, it was okay to feel up the merchandise. She clasped her palms together and clubbed his wrist, and he abruptly released her. “Take your hands off me while you still have enough fingers to count to ten.”
She lurched backward, and once more found herself standing in front of the ancient pine.
He laughed again, and she clamped her knees together to hide their shaking. His amusement scared her more than rage would have. Psychos like him laughed while they tortured people to death. “I totally get why the boss is eager to meet you. He’s a big fan of your work.”
Her verbal acuity was her biggest asset. Her only weapon. Keep talking, divert his interest. “I’m ecstatic. Always great to have fans.” Her pulse thundered in her ears as she sidled outward, circled around. Would he guess her plan?
He followed her movements, which put his back toward the tree. Exactly where she wanted him. Watching her, not Aidan’s hiding place. She licked dry, trembling lips and tried to slow her breathing as she gathered her reserves for another escape attempt. “Have his people call my people. We’ll do lunch.”
Mr. Muscle nodded. “Yeah, he’s gonna love you. And I’ll get the reward for hauling you in.” His square face split in a smile that made the back of her neck crawl. “Maybe he’ll even let me have you. If there’s anything left when he’s done. I’m okay with seconds.”
She’d throw herself off the cliff first.
“You have a date to keep. Let’s go.” He lunged at her.
She dodged beneath his arm and ran.
He grabbed her by the jacket tail and swung her around. His arm flew up, and he backhanded her across the face with his gun hand. Stars exploded in her vision, and the sharp sting brought a rush of involuntary tears. The metallic taste of blood leached into her mouth. “No m
ore games, babe.”
An ear-splitting crash rang out from above, followed by a savage, hair-raising growl. Aidan hurtled out of the tree like an avenging angel and dropped onto her captor.
Muscle-bound grunted, and the two men went down in a tangle of vicious curses. They rolled, fought, swore. Fists pummeled flesh. Bones crunched.
Horrified, Zoe stumbled back to make room. The last thing Aidan needed was for her to get in his way. She tripped and fell hard. Still watching the men, she felt along her scraped calf, and found the tree branch she’d flung earlier.
Bolstered by the branch, she struggled upright. The grappling men surged to their feet. Mr. Muscles’s hands wrapped around Aidan’s throat, and Aidan struggled, his face mottled. Muscles’s arms tensed and his fingers whitened.
Aidan thrust his left arm up between Mr. Muscles’s wrists and broke his hold. He rammed his forehead into Mr. Muscles’s Neanderthal brow. Zoe cringed as Muscles reeled backward. Weaving unsteadily, Aidan kicked his opponent’s feet out from under him, and Muscles went down, groping for his gun. Zoe’s heart bucked as he raised the weapon and fired.
Aidan flung himself aside, smashing into a huge limb, and the bullet gashed bark. Aidan staggered. Terror roared in Zoe’s head. Had he been shot? Before Aidan could recover his balance, Muscles lunged at his legs, tackling him to the ground. Then Muscles clambered upright and aimed the pistol at Aidan’s head. “Die, you sonofabitch!”
“No!” Zoe screamed. Clutching her makeshift weapon, she charged. Muscles half-turned, and the gun moved off Aidan. Zoe raised the branch and slammed his gun arm downward. Two quick shots tore into the ground. Dirt and pine needles sprayed. The gun dropped out of his hand. Powered by momentum, she whirled and swung. The branch thudded into the side of his head. He dropped faster than the temperature at the top of the bluff.
Panting, she squatted and raised one of his eyelids. He was out for the count. She’d seen plenty of cop shows and kicked the gun out of his reach before picking it up. She stashed the weapon in her bag, and her gaze spun to Aidan. He knelt in the dirt, weaving from side to side. His right arm hung useless. His face was stark white in the moonlight, and sheened with perspiration. His breath sawed in ragged gasps.
She scrambled over to him, went to her knees and gently held his shoulders to support him. “Were you shot?” Her frantic gaze whirled over him.
He groaned. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slipped out of her grip and crumpled onto the forest floor.
“Aidan!” Trembling, she brought her face close to his and listened intently. He was breathing. Her own breath hurtled out in a relieved rush. Starting at the top of his head, she examined him for wounds, felt for blood. None anywhere. Thank goodness! She blinked back tears.
She patted his bristly cheek, cool beneath her trembling palm. “Aidan! Wake up!”
He stirred, moaned.
“Come on, SWAT. I need you.” She patted more briskly. “Open those gorgeous brown eyes.”
Too many long, agonizing heartbeats dragged past. Then his dark lashes fluttered, and his eyelids floated up. He frowned at her, his expression bewildered. “Zoe? What…the hell?”
“Where are you hurt?”
He grimaced, and blinked pain-clouded eyes. “Dislocated shoulder. When I hit the limb.” That explained why he’d passed out when she’d gripped his shoulders. He jerked upright, groaned, and fell back.
“Whoa.” She tugged off the tux jacket and covered him. “Easy there. Stay down for a few minutes.”
“Where’s the…other guy?”
“Perfecting his hockey puck imitation. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Got to,” he gritted out. “Make sure. Restrain him.”
“Now that I know you’re okay, I’ll take care of it.”
“No! Stay away. Too dangerous. I’ll…do it.” Aidan struggled, sat up quickly. Another groan escaped his too-pale lips, and he lost consciousness again.
She knelt beside him, and pressed shaky fingers to his wrist. “Not this time, SWAT.” His skin was cooler than she’d like. But his breathing was even, and a strong pulse throbbed beneath her fingertips. As long as he didn’t go into shock, he was better off oblivious than suffering. For the moment. They’d have to move, soon. The gunshots could bring the other bad guys on the run.
“Everything will be fine,” she insisted. “I’ve got your back.” Okay, he couldn’t hear her, but she needed the reassurance.
Nerves fluttering, Zoe crept toward the unconscious bad guy. She checked Muscles’s vitals. His breathing and pulse were also strong. Two for two.
After wrestling him out of his shirt and tying his hands behind him with his belt, she cleaned the bloody lump on the side of his head with a wet wipe. Blood trickled steadily, but it didn’t look serious. Didn’t head wounds bleed a lot? She tore off a shirt cuff and folded into a pad. She used the sleeve to fasten the makeshift bandage.
Grimacing in distaste, she searched his jeans pockets and hit pay dirt with Aidan’s wallet and confiscated knife. She recognized the Celtic design key chain that held his apartment and car keys. Continuing the search, she discovered Mr. Muscles’s heavy silver lighter and cigarettes. He didn’t have any ID. Big surprise.
Puffing and sweating, she wrestled him to a smaller tree and propped him against the trunk. The guy weighed as much as an SUV. She bound his feet and tied him to the tree with his shoestrings and the rest of his shirt. His sneakers and socks had to go. If he escaped, being barefoot would slow him down.
Should she gag him with a sock? She wrinkled her nose. The guy had plainly never heard of Odor-Eaters. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment. The other shirtsleeve did the job. She considered confiscating his shoes and pants for herself, but bulky clothing would only slow her down. She hurried to the cliff’s edge and tossed over his shoes and sweaty socks.
She ran back to Aidan. He’d come around while she was tying up Muscles, but hadn’t tried to sit up. He was learning. “The bad guy?”
“I tied him up with his belt and shoelaces.”
Pain pinched his colorless face and equally white lips. “Why didn’t you use the cuffs in my pocket?”
“I forgot about them in all the confusion. Anyway, he’s secure.” She knelt beside him, smoothed his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“You’re bleeding.” He reached up and gently touched the corner of her mouth.
“I am?” She swiped at her chin. In the melee, she’d also forgotten about her split lip. The moment she was reminded, she noticed the throbbing. The scrape on her calf also chose that time to make itself known. “No biggie.”
Dark anger smoldered in his gaze. “Bastard hit you. I hope I get another chance to rip him a new one.”
Though it was the middle of the night, sunlight warmed her inside. For so long, she’d had no one but herself to rely on. Aidan’s staunch loyalty and anger on her behalf filled her with happiness…and hope. “I’m all right. How are you doing?”
“Okay.” His low declaration sounded anything but. “We have to move. The gunshots will lead the others to us.”
She fished in her bag and found ibuprofen and her water bottle. “These might help some.”
She expected him to argue, but he let her support his head and silently swallowed the tablets. Her cop was nothing if not practical. He wiped his mouth with the back of his uninjured hand. “I’m no good to you like this. You have to put my shoulder back in.”
In the midst of what had to be agony, he was thinking of her. She gulped. “How?”
“Plant one foot on my chest, raise my arm and pull.”
She smothered the shocked retort that sprang to mind. In no way did he appear to be joking. She had no medical training. What if she hurt him worse? “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
His calm, confident gaze held hers. “You can do it.”
“Aidan, I don’t—”
“Zoe, you have to. I can’t keep passing out every time I try to stand. C’mon. No time t
o waste.”
Hands fisted, she gathered her courage. She had no choice. Aidan needed her.
Apprehension jittered inside as she removed her right sandal. She wouldn’t get any leverage wearing one shoe, and took the other off as well. She planted her right foot on his chest and gripped his hand. “Ready?” He nodded, and her nerves shrieked. Maybe he was, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be. Bracing herself, she pulled.
Aidan’s tendons strained, and joints popped. He hissed in a breath and clenched his teeth. Suffering etched every line of his face. “Harder, honey. Use all your body weight. You can’t hurt me any more than I already am.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It hurts me as much as you. Cringing inside and sick to her stomach, she pulled with all her strength against his taut, pain-wracked muscles. More grinding, popping sounds echoed from his joints. He groaned, and she winced. Please, let it have worked. “How’s that?”
“Better than it was, but not completely in. My arm still isn’t functional.” He shook his head. “You’re not strong enough. That’s as good as we’re gonna get.”
“I’m sorry.” Failing him hurt more than causing him physical pain.
“Not your fault. I’ve seen it take two guys in the field. We need to move.” He tried to shove upright, and his face blanched impossibly paler.
“Slowly this time.” She helped him sit up, and the tux jacket crumpled into his lap. “Would a sling ease the pain?”
“Probably. Carry one of those around, too?”
“No, but you do.” She dug the cummerbund and bow tie out of the tux pocket. As she rigged the sling, his warm, smooth skin jerked under her careful ministrations, and he bit back a grunt. She winced. “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to hurt you.”
“I know. Stop apologizing, sweetheart. Just do what you have to.”
The cummerbund cradled his useless arm, and the bow tie stretched across the opposite shoulder and fastened the ends. “Perfect. Maybe when we get out of here, I’ll do a story demonstrating the survival applications of formal wear.” If they made it out alive. She shook her head. None of that. Together, they were a formidable team. They would make it.