Abducted (Unlikely Heroes Book 2)

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Abducted (Unlikely Heroes Book 2) Page 25

by Leslie Georgeson


  “I’ve never told anyone that before. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jennie.”

  Her heart aching for him, she hugged him back. She didn’t know what she’d do without him either.

  “Thanks for telling me all that,” she whispered, “for trusting me enough to confide in me. That had to have been extremely difficult.”

  Color crept into his face. He lowered his gaze.

  Jennie cupped his chin again, forcing his gaze back to hers. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked gently. “Now that you know it’s Ian?”

  He nodded curtly, his jaw hardening with determination. He set her on the floor and rose from the chair. “If Ian does have Emily, this time I am killing him.”

  His cell phone rang. Max’s gaze flew to hers. He yanked it out of his pocket and answered. Jennie waited, watching his face.

  “Yes Agent Miller,” he said. “Jennie remembers everything now. I know who has my daughter. We’re going after him.”

  Max paused as the other man said something into the phone. He strode away from Jennie. “Sorry, we’re not waiting. Yes, we have weapons. We’re going right now.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He turned back to Jennie.

  “Dispatch called the sheriff and the sheriff called Agent Miller. They’re all on their way out here.”

  Jennie met his gaze. “Should we wait for them?”

  If Max wanted to go after Ian now, she wasn’t about to deter him. She wanted to kill the creep too.

  “Hell no.”

  Jennie squeezed his hand.

  “Then let’s go find Emily.”

  * * *

  He couldn’t do it.

  When he’d seen Emily’s stricken face, he’d realized he couldn’t kill her. Somehow over the past three years, he’d become obsessed with Emily. He’d couldn’t let her go. The only thing he could do now was take her and flee. Max was never getting her back. That would be the ultimate torture: not knowing where his daughter was, not knowing what Ian was doing to her…

  He chuckled. Emily was his now in a way that Laura never had been, in a way that Laura never could be. Emily was his prisoner. His slave. She did whatever he told her. Like the good girl that she was. He had to give it to Max: he’d raised his daughter proper, with manners and kindness. Emily was a good girl. And she’d make an even finer woman someday. She was his.

  As he’d packed for the road, Emily had watched him with those sad, pretty brown eyes.

  Something in his chest shifted again. Dammit, he wasn’t used to feeling any emotion other than anger. People had stopped hurting him years ago when he’d shoved their hurtful things aside and taught himself not to care. He hadn’t cared for so long that this strange tightening in his chest was foreign to him. What did it mean?

  He had to admit he cared about Emily. She really was a sweet girl. She hadn’t deserved any of the things he’d done to her.

  He groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. Emily was the only good thing he’d ever had his entire life. He couldn’t lose her now. He refused to give her back to Max.

  He went into the bathroom to pack the necessary toiletries. He paused, glaring at himself in the mirror. One of the black contacts was missing like Emily had said. He had no idea when it had fallen out. But he didn’t care anymore. The cops would be looking for a man with black hair and black eyes. He removed the other contact and tossed it in the garbage. Then he pulled the hair clippers out of the cabinet and began shaving off the black hair. Minutes later, he was bald. They’d never think to look for a green-eyed bald man.

  He grabbed up the necessary toiletries and tossed them into a bag. He headed for the bedroom to get Emily.

  It was time to go.

  His original “grand finale” had been shot to hell. Max would suffer more if he never got to see Emily again.

  He hobbled back to his bedroom, trying his best to ignore the pain from his bite wounds.

  “Time to go, Em.”

  He stepped into the room. Paused.

  His eyes went wide. His heart slammed into his ribs.

  She was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, Emily crept behind the couch and waited, listening for Ian. He was still in the bathroom. She’d frantically torn at the knots and miraculously managed to untie herself when he’d gone in there. She was relieved he hadn’t dragged her in there with him. Leaving her alone for those few minutes had given her a chance—her only chance—to escape.

  I hate him. He hurt me. He’s evil.

  With these thoughts swirling in her head, Emily peered back down the hallway.

  The hair clippers buzzed from the bathroom. He was shaving his head.

  Emily was finally learning to be brave like Jennie. She couldn’t let herself feel anything for Ian except hatred. He’d hurt her. She was glad the wolves had attacked him. Glad he was injured.

  I hate him. He hurt me. He’s evil.

  She darted across the living room, heading for the front door. As soon as she opened the door, the cold blew in. She didn’t have time to try to find a coat. Emily slipped outside and quietly shut the door behind her.

  She shivered. It was still dark out, but the sun was slowly rising, creating an orangish-pink smear on the horizon.

  The cold quickly penetrated through the thin cotton pajamas. She had only socks on her feet. She shivered again. Her teeth chattered. Emily hugged her arms around her slender frame. She stood on the porch for a moment in indecision. Where to? She would freeze in a matter of minutes in this cold. Then she would be no good to anyone. She would never see her dad again if she froze to death first.

  Then she saw it.

  Headlights. Slowly coming down the road.

  Bracing herself against the cold, Emily gingerly stepped off the porch and into the cold snow.

  The front door yanked open behind her.

  “Emily!”

  She gasped, spinning around as Ian came out onto the porch. His gaze locked on hers. She turned away and leapt over a snow drift, sprinting toward the road.

  Toward the approaching vehicle.

  Toward freedom.

  He slammed into her from behind, knocking her into the deep snow. The breath wheezed from her lungs. She sucked in a nose full of snow, gasping and snorting at the cold. Ian rose, grabbing her arm in a fierce grip.

  “You’re mine.” He hissed the words at her. Yanking her to her feet, he dragged her back toward the house. Emily fought and squirmed, turning her head toward the approaching vehicle.

  “Help!” she screamed, waving her free arm at the vehicle. “Help me!”

  Ian pulled her up onto the porch steps, his eyes wild with rage and something evil and terrifying that made her blood run cold.

  “Help!” she yelled again.

  He backhanded her across the face. She cried out, tears stinging her eyes.

  I hate him. He hurt me. He’s evil.

  She screamed again, “Hellllp!”

  He pushed open the front door, shoved her inside. She stumbled and fell into the house, crashing to her knees in the entryway.

  He followed her inside, limping across the threshold.

  The door slammed shut behind them.

  His eyes full of fury, he advanced on her.

  I hate him. He hurt me. He’s evil.

  Emily scrambled to her feet. She backed away from him.

  She’d seen the other door earlier. The one in the kitchen that led out to a garage.

  She turned and fled toward the kitchen.

  Toward her last chance at freedom.

  * * *

  Jennie touched Max’s arm as they slowly passed the next house.

  “I think I heard something. Stop.”

  Max hit the brakes. He pushed the button that rolled down the window. They sat in silence, listening.

  “Help!” came a faint voice from somewhere up the road. “Help me!”

  Max’s heart leapt into his throat. “Emily,” he whispere
d, glancing around. “Where’s it coming from?”

  Jennie stared out the front windshield. “Up there, I think.” She pointed in front of them. “At that small cabin.”

  Max stepped on the gas. Lucky whined from the back seat, his nose pointing eagerly toward them. The damn dog had leapt into the 4Runner with them when they’d left the house and refused to get back out.

  A light spilled out from an open door as they approached. Then the door closed.

  Max slammed on the brakes. He turned to Jennie. “This is it. It has to be.” He reached for his door handle.

  “Stay here,” he said, opening his door. When he turned back, Jennie had already exited the vehicle and was rushing around to his side of the car. He caught a glimpse of Lucky sprinting toward the house. Damn dog never did listen very well.

  He glared at Jennie. Neither did she.

  “I told you to stay put.”

  She shrugged. “You’re going to need my help.” She lifted the pistol from her pocket, and released the safety. “You take the front door. I’ll take the back.”

  Max drew in a deep breath, puffed it out. He pulled the .38 from his pocket. The rifles lay on the back seat, just in case they needed them. “Let’s go.”

  As Jennie raced away from him, heading toward the back of the house, he called softly, “Be safe.” He had to trust that Jennie would be careful. His biggest priority right now was freeing Emily.

  Max snuck toward the front door where a dim light burned through the front window. Had Emily gone inside? Was this the right house? Had that voice they’d heard been Emily?

  He slipped up onto the front porch, tried the handle.

  It was unlocked.

  He slowly turned it, gently pushed it open.

  “Get back here, you stupid girl!” a male voice screamed.

  Max ducked back behind the door, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

  “Emily!” the angry voice yelled again. “Get back here!”

  A door slammed. Muttered cursing followed. Max slipped inside the house, hunkered down behind the couch. The living room consisted of the couch, an end table, and a television. There wasn’t room for anything else in the tiny room.

  “Emily!” the man bellowed again. Then another door slammed.

  Silence.

  Max hesitated. Where had they gone?

  Max slinked down the short hallway, checking each of the rooms. A blood soaked rag in the bathroom. An opened first aid kit on the countertop. A bottle of isopropyl alcohol on the nightstand in the main bedroom. Vomit all over the bedroom floor. Bags packed and sitting near the bedroom door. Someone had been injured. The bags indicated someone was planning a trip. Or getting ready to flee.

  But all the rooms were empty of people.

  He crept back toward the living room, noticed another doorway near the kitchen. He pulled it open. It went down to a basement. He flicked on the light, cautiously descended the concrete stairs.

  Was this the prison where Ian had kept Emily and Jennie hostage?

  When Max reached the bottom, he saw the two twin-size beds, side by side. The thin, tattered blankets, the skinny pillows. This was it. He closed his eyes against the terrifying images that flashed through his mind.

  Don’t go there.

  No one was down here.

  Max turned back toward the stairs. He saw the corner where Gray had been chained. It was stained with blood, urine and feces. He covered his nose at the stench. He would never regret saving that wolf’s life.

  He headed back up the stairs in time to hear what sounded like a garage door opening.

  Shit!

  Max thundered up the last four steps.

  When he reached the top, he leapt across the threshold and into the room.

  And slammed right into another person.

  A frail, slight body bounced off him and landed on the floor a few feet away. A soft gasp filled the room. He stared down at the girl he’d knocked aside. Wide brown eyes, tangled dark hair, bruised cheeks, a nasty shiner over her left eye, and lips parted in surprise.

  “Em?” he gasped, stumbling forward.

  “Dad?” Tears spilled from her eyes and ran unheeded down her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet and launched herself into his arms. His throat seized. Max crushed her to him, dropping the .38 from his hand.

  “Oh God, Em.” He held her tight, refusing to let go. His chest squeezed, relief sweeping through him. He swallowed back a sob. His eyes welled with tears. She was alive! His baby girl was alive!

  She cried harder as she clung to him. “I knew you’d come. I knew Jennie would bring you. I’m sorry, Dad. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have snuck out that night. I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh!” He cradled her close. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  An engine roared to life.

  Max jerked his head up.

  Lucky’s frantic barking echoed from somewhere outside.

  Car tires squealed on the icy driveway, spinning out.

  Then the vehicle sped away into the early dawn.

  Emily lifted her head, her gaze locking on his.

  “He’s got Jennie,” she whispered. She let out a sob. “He grabbed her out in the garage. She tackled him when he tried to grab me. She saved me.”

  She drew in a ragged breath, her eyes wide with fear. Her bottom lip trembled.

  Max drew her close, his chest squeezing so tightly he could barely draw air into his lungs. Thank you, Jennie.

  “It’s all right, Honey,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Emily leaned away.

  “He’s going to kill her, Dad. And it’s all my fault.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “Run Emily!” Jennie screamed. “Go find your dad!”

  Her eyes wild with fear, Emily turned and fled into the house.

  Ian rose from the garage floor where Jennie had tripped him. He wrapped his hand around her throat and shoved her into the truck that was parked where Max’s car had once been. With one arm still wrapped tightly around Jennie’s throat, he backed the truck out of the garage and into the circular driveway. Then he slammed the gearshift into first gear, the tires spinning on the ice as he floored the truck. Ian peeled out of the snow-covered drive and turned out onto the main road. He headed for the bridge that lead to the other side of the river.

  The truck was an older model with a bench seat. Jennie scooted as far away from him as his arm would allow, her eyes never leaving his enraged face.

  When Jennie had heard the garage door opening a few moments ago, she’d slipped inside the garage. She’d seen the man chasing Emily and had lunged at him, tripping him. He’d cried out and snared Jennie’s ankle in his hand when he went down. He yanked, pulling her down onto the garage floor with him. She’d dropped her gun somewhere in the struggle.

  Now she was his prisoner again.

  At least Emily was safe now. Jennie hoped Max was holding her close, comforting her. If Jennie died this day, at least she could be happy knowing she’d saved Emily. Had given Max back his daughter.

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  If she survived this day…

  She turned to glare at her abductor. The hand he had wrapped around the steering wheel was bandaged with blood-soaked gauze. Jennie had also noticed he was limping. He’d been injured recently. Had Gray and her new mate attacked the man out in the yard? Had Emily gotten hold of a weapon somehow and attacked him?

  He released his hold around her neck and withdrew a gun from the waist of his jeans. He pointed it at her head.

  Jennie stared down the barrel, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. This was it. He was going to kill her now.

  “One silly move and you’re dead, Jennie. Got it?”

  She nodded. She had no doubt that he meant it.

  Jennie watched him in the early dawn shadows. He’d shaved his head bald. And when he flashed those malice
-filled eyes at her, she saw they were no longer black, but lighter. Green or blue perhaps? He was less creepy without the hood, because now at least she could see a face. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but she knew evil could hide behind pretty faces. Underneath, he was hideously ugly.

  “Glenda would be disappointed if she could see you now.”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. Jennie had hit a nerve. Good. The man had a weakness. His mother. She would do her best to use it against him.

  “She would be heartbroken if she could see what her only son has become.”

  His hand shook as he pointed the gun at her. “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!”

  “It’s no wonder she prefers Max over you. He’s kind and gentle, caring…”

  “Shut. Up!” Ian moved so fast she didn’t have time to react. He slammed the gun against the side of her head.

  Jennie cried out and turned away, her head spinning. Nausea threatened. A trickle of blood oozed down her temple. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize him. Not yet, anyway. She wasn’t sure why he’d taken her, unless he was using her as a hostage.

  Or maybe he just planned to kill her now that he’d lost Emily.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she detected movement in the back of the truck. She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening when Lucky’s white ear twitched toward her, barely discernible in the semi-darkness.

  Lucky! What are you doing?

  How had Lucky gotten into the back of the truck? When had he jumped in?

  Hide Lucky! Get down before he sees you! Hurry!

  Lucky slowly crouched, disappearing into the back of the truck, indicating he’d received her telepathic communication.

  Good boy. Now stay hidden. It’s not safe.

  Jennie glanced back at Ian, who appeared oblivious to the fact that Max’s dog was in the back of his truck. There was no telling what he might do if he saw Lucky.

  They crossed over the bridge and turned down the road that went past Max’s house. Several minutes later, they drove past Max’s house. Jennie wondered if it would be the last time she saw it. If today would be the last time she saw Max.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, turning back to Ian.

 

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