She flew to the door. Suddenly, she caught sight of the two men from the gray compact slinking up the side of the service road, on foot. The way they ran, hunched over, hugging the forest edge, told her this was no social call.
Her skin crawled.
The ponytailed man turned his head to speak to the other, flipping his hair over his shoulder. Gasping, she realized why he looked familiar. He was the man from the ridge above the rattlesnakes! No doubt these were the culprits who’d ransacked the tower.
Oh. My. God. And now they were coming back for her.
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Ten
Maggie didn't have time to think. She had to hide.
But where?
She rushed to the center of the cab. In terror, she searched for a hiding place. It was no use. The two men would easily find her, no matter where she hid. In desperation, she looked upward.
Please, God, help me...
Wait!
Maybe not!
Quick as a flash, she hopped up on the kitchen counter. Her head was a foot below the ceiling as she pushed up on the panel leading to the roof. Careful not to knock anything over with her boots, she gripped the frame around the opening and took a deep breath.
She had never been any good at chin-ups. She was scared to death she wouldn't be able to pull herself up to the roof.
She stooped down to check the road, and saw the men closing in on the final slope to the tower. Oh, God. She bent her knees and jumped as high as she could, hoisting herself up with her arms at the same time. For an endless moment she dangled precariously by her waist on the edge of the opening, struggling to gain purchase on the shingled roof with her hands. She felt herself slipping backward, down toward the cab and certain discovery.
Scratching at the layer of gravel covering the slightly pitched roof, she stretched out with all her might to grasp the anchoring leg of the rain catch-tank. She latched on, and pulled. Slowly, she dragged herself up out of the cab.
Breath ragged, she threw the panel back in place and seated it properly. She looked up at the rain catch-tank. A sob of relief squeezed past the thick lump in her throat. It could work...
The men below were clattering at top speed up the tower stairs. She lifted the lattice grate from the top of the water tank, wrenched herself up over the side, and hopped into the sun-warmed water. She sank up to her neck. Sitting on the pitted wooden floor of the cistern, she willed the water to stop sloshing. By the time the men burst through the cab door, the tank lay as quiet as a tomb.
A string of epithets filtered up through the roof, echoing hollowly in the tank before continuing out into the mountain air. She shut her eyes tight, not even daring to breathe. Her boot heels dug into the backs of her thighs, and she swore inwardly. Why hadn’t she taken them off? No way she could run in these water-filled boots.
She just prayed she'd live long enough to be able to run.
She heard one of the men step out onto the catwalk. “Shit. Not here, either,” he yelled to the one inside. “Damn bitch. I'm tired of her playing us for fools. And you know what Whitney said last night.”
Maggie's heart beat triple-time, and her hands began to shake under the water. Well, that answered that question.
Oh, God. I'm dead. I am so dead.
As the other man moved around inside the cab, she could hear cupboards opening and slamming, and furniture being tossed around. “Yeah. He said she has to be alone when we do it,” came his muffled voice. “Trouble is, there's always been someone around. That new boyfriend of hers was piss poor timing.”
“Fuck him. I'm not about to risk my ass waiting around anymore. The boss wants her taken care of. Boyfriend gets in the way, tough shit for him.”
Maggie's heart slammed against her chest and she stifled a whimper. No! Not Cooper! This was her worst nightmare. What she’d been afraid of since day one. That he’d be hurt because of her.
She wouldn't let them have him! She would give herself up right now rather than see him hurt.
“I'll bet the bitch is down there all cozy with him right now. Let's go.” Sneering laughter floated up as they jogged down the stairs. Standing slowly up in the tank so she could lift the grate and peer cautiously over the edge, she watched them hurry across the clearing to the path down to Cooper’s camp. Should she shout after them, to warn him?
No. It would be suicide. And he wasn't there, anyway.
Where was he?
She had to find some way of warning him before he came back.
Climbing gingerly out of the tank, she dropped back down into the cab, leaving streams and puddles of water in her wake. As she attempted to peel herself out of her sodden dress, she nervously scanned the area around the lake for Cooper.
She caught sight of him striding out of the forest toward his camp.
No!
She gave up on the dress and flew to the telescope, and trained it on the campsite. Horrified, she watched as the man with the Raiders cap quickly hid behind a tree. The ponytailed man casually greeted Cooper...who walked unsuspectingly into the clearing.
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Coop's mind was not on where he was going when he strode into camp. After drinking coffee in the Caf for three totally wasted hours, he'd taken a punishing hike around the lake, trying to decide whether or not he should talk to Maggie one more time before pulling up stakes.
He was still arguing with himself over the probable futility of it, when, suddenly, he came face to face with a man leaning against a tree next to his tent.
Coop stopped dead in his tracks, scowling. Holy shit. He'd had no warning at all. And the guy was standing in plain view, for fuck sake. His instincts must really be in deep hibernation.
But then, he knew that, didn’t he?
The skinny man with a greasy ponytail smiled like a weasel. “Howdy.”
Coop's slumbering instincts awoke to a three-flag red alert. He planted his feet. “What can I do for you?”
Greasytail was still smiling, but it got nowhere near his beady eyes. “Nice little hideaway you got here.” He pushed off the tree and moved aimlessly around the camp, testing Coop's equipment with a negligent loafer.
Coop eyed him suspiciously. Really? Loafers? “It serves its purpose.”
The man poked at the door of the sweat lodge with a finger. “You got company?”
The guy was definitely beginning to bug him. “No.”
Greasytail spit on the ground. “Funny. I heard you was screwin' that hot piece from up the lookout tower. Ain't she here?”
Coop's spine went rigid. Before he knew what he was doing, he had whipped his knife from its sheath at his hip and was balancing it in his hand. His knees relaxed, not quite in a fighting stance, but ready. “I think you'd better make tracks before I get offended by this conversation.”
“Now, I'd like to oblige you. I really would. But I can't. See, I'm lookin' for the little bitch, and I'm not leaving till I find her.”
Coop's eyes slitted. “You'll leave right now.” He didn't give Greasytail time to blink before he had an arm wrapped around his neck and the knife to his jugular. “On second thought, you'll tell me why you're looking for Ms. Johansen.”
The man's throat gave a gurgled choke under Coop's stranglehold.
“What's the matter? Someone cut out your tongue?” He gave Greasytail's Adam's apple a quick crush with his arm and raised the point of his knife to the man's trembling lips. “Hmm. Now there's a real entertaining thought.”
The sniveling whimper that leaked from the bag of slime disgusted Coop. Suddenly, a guttural voice behind him said, “Don't move.”
At that exact same second, Coop saw a flash of light from Maggie's tower. As he whipped around in alarm, a shot rang out. His thigh erupted in a starburst of pain and blood. His last coherent thought was of Maggie.
“No!” His head exploded, and all went black.
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Twelve
&
nbsp; Maggie clamped her hand to her mouth to stifle the scream that erupted.
Wolf!
“They've shot him! Oh, God, they've shot my Wolf!”
Anguish and guilt pulled at her like a backdraft. This was all her fault.
She was paralyzed with fear for him.
Blinking back tears, she’d watched through the telescope as the man in the Raiders cap coshed Cooper with the butt of his gun. Her heart exploded with terror as he dropped to his knees, then slumped forward on the ground. Blood oozed from his leg, pooling around his crimson-stained slacks.
Was he still alive? She had to help him!
Raiders Hat exchanged a few sharp words with Ponytail, who stood clutching his throat and gasping for breath. Then he kicked Cooper roughly over onto his back.
No! Don't you touch him!
She had to go to him. Had to do something...anything...to get him out of this alive. If he died because of her—
No. She wasn’t going there.
She didn’t have time to change, so her boots sloshed and her dripping sundress slapped around her legs as she flew down the stairs.
They were not going to get away with this. Not while she still breathed.
By the time she reached the perimeter of Cooper's camp, silently creeping as close as she dared, the two men had duct-taped his hands behind his back and propped him against a tree. They were ripping through his tents and camping gear.
Ponytail emerged from the tent with Cooper's shotgun.
She silently swore.
“Well, shit. Looky what I found.”
Raiders grinned evilly. “They're makin' this too easy. First her gun, now his.” Raiders took the shotgun from Ponytail and broke it open, checking for shells. “Shame, really. About him killing the woman, I mean.”
Ponytail sniggered. “Yeah, damned shame. Did you know that ninety percent of all homicides in this country are caused by domestic disharmony?”
They both laughed.
Maggie inhaled sharply. They planned to kill her and make it look like Cooper did it? The blood drained right out of her as Raiders snapped the shotgun shut with a vicious crack. She was sure she’d faint and give herself away. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to jam them under her armpits. There was no remedy for her legs. She just had to let them quake as she slid to her knees behind a bush.
It seemed like forever before Cooper finally stirred.
“Splash some water on him,” Raiders barked. “Let's get this over with.”
Ponytail found a bottle of water and dashed it over Cooper's face. He moaned, and slowly opened his eyes, groggily shaking the water out of them.
“Bastards,” he snarled.
“My, my. Such language.” Raiders stood over him, nudging his wounded leg. “Now. Tell us where the woman is.”
“Go to hell.”
Maggie's eyes blurred. Oh, Wolf.
“Not much doubt about that,” Raiders answered Cooper coldly. “But you'll make it there a lot sooner than me if you don't tell us what we want to know.”
Cooper refused to look up at the man. “I don't know where she is.”
Raiders snorted. “You screw her brains out for two days, and expect us to believe you don't know where she is?” He drew his foot up and brought it down on Cooper's gunshot wound.
He nearly doubled over in pain, but the only sound Maggie heard from him was a grunt as he let out a strangled breath from between his teeth.
“Fuck yourself.”
Ponytail leaned against a nearby tree and chuckled. “I’d rather fuck her. That was some performance in the alley last night.” He smirked. “You had her moanin' real good, stud.”
Cooper's head snapped up, and Maggie had to put a hand over her mouth to smother a gasp.
A salacious sneer settled on Ponytail's face. “You s'pose she'd moan like that for me?”
Cooper shot to his feet, staggering and twisting on his wounded leg. Maggie pressed both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out.
Raiders gave him a vicious backhand, sending him sprawling against a tree, then jammed a forearm under Cooper's chin. “Where is she, lover boy?”
Cooper shoved him away with a shoulder, sliding down the tree trunk, grimacing. “Get it through your thick heads,” he gritted out. “I don't know where she is.”
Ponytail grabbed a fist-sized split of pine from the stack of firewood and swung it full against Cooper's face. Somehow, he managed to turn and lift his shoulder between wood and cheekbone before it hit with a sickening thud.
Maggie bit down hard on the skin between her thumb and forefinger to keep from screaming. Tears of desperation trickled down her cheeks. She wanted to rush in there and scratch the bastard’s eyes out. To strangle him with her bare hands. She felt completely helpless watching all this happen to the man she loved. But she wouldn’t stand a chance against those two. She’d only end up right there with him, bound, raped, and undoubtedly dead. She had to be strong, and wait for an opening.
“Let me handle this.” Raiders shoved Ponytail aside, and trained his gun at the junction of Cooper's thighs. “She may be a good lay, but is she worth singin' soprano over?”
No!
She couldn't take any more. She jumped up, ready to surrender herself to save him. He caught her movement, and for a millisecond their eyes met over the gun aimed at him. He scowled fiercely and narrowed his eyes.
She didn’t have to smoke him to read his mind. If she came out and they didn't kill her, he would.
Before she could move, his focus shifted back to the gun, then up to Raiders. “She's at the hunting blind,” he said.
Frowning, she dropped back behind the bush. What?
Raiders smiled, and tucked the gun into his waistband. “Sensible guy.” He jerked Cooper to his feet. “Let's go.”
Cooper wobbled, and grunted in pain. “You need to bind up this hole in my leg or I'll bleed to death before we get there.”
Reluctantly, Ponytail grabbed one of the T-shirts that had been dumped onto the ground, folded it into a narrow band and roughly lashed it around the bloody leg, securing it tightly with duct tape. Meanwhile, Raiders took a last look through the belongings strewn around. He toed Cooper's cell phone out from under a pair of pants, and with a swift motion, crushed it under his heel. “Just don't make 'em like they used to, eh?”
Cooper flashed him a malevolent look, then, dragging his leg behind, led the men into the forest.
She glanced longingly at the remains of the cell phone before sneaking after the three men.
Hunting blind. What hunting blind?
It took a superhuman effort to keep up with them undetected. She cursed Cooper's caution in leading them around in circles for what seemed like hours, no doubt to disorient them in case he was able to give them the slip. Unfortunately, he also succeeded in completely disorienting her.
Finally, he halted, pointing to a big clump of bushes. She looked closer, and saw an opening in them.
At last. This must be the infamous hunting blind.
Now, what?
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen
Late afternoon had become evening, and the sun dipped close to the mountain peaks that would eventually block out the sunlight.
Coop's leg hurt like holy hell. And he was worried. Real worried. He had not counted on Maggie following them. Naturally, he'd heard her tagging along—it had been impossible not to. At times he had actually winced and made extra noise with his leg to cover up the sound of her sliding and traipsing through the brush after them. Apparently the brain trust that had taken him hostage needed their ears cleaned. Good thing.
He watched impassively as Raiders quickly looked around, stooped down into the enclosure, then walked back to where Greasytail was guarding Coop with his own shotgun. Raiders pulled Maggie's gun out of his waistband and pointed it at Coop's temple. “Where is she?”
He shrugged as casually as he could manage under the circumstances. “Must have gone for
food or something. It's getting pretty late.”
“You mean back to the lookout tower? Why didn't we see her on the way?”
He shrugged again. “Maybe she got lost? Took a different route?” He'd been racking his mind trying to come up with a way out of this mess. With two guns to none, and no knife, he didn't like the odds. But he felt sure if he kept his head—and his leg didn't fall off—an opportunity would present itself.
As long as Maggie didn't do something stupid.
While his captors argued over what to do, Coop leaned against a tree to take the weight off his leg. Luckily, the wound wasn't too deep. If he got some antiseptic and stitches fairly soon, he should be okay. But if Maggie's telescope hadn't flashed in the sun, making him turn just as the gun went off, he wouldn't be walking now.
Thank God for small favors.
Speaking of which—
Surreptitiously, he glanced around, but couldn’t spot her or where she was hiding.
He squeezed his eyes shut. What the hell did she think she was doing, anyway? Trying to get herself killed? If those men found her, it was a pretty safe bet neither she nor Coop would get out of this alive. Leading them to the hunting blind wasn't the smartest thing he'd done in his life, but at the shock of seeing Maggie stand up, clearly intending to sacrifice herself to save his...assets...it was the first thing that popped into his rattled brain.
“You!” Raiders shoved Cooper toward the hunting blind and pushed him down into the opening. “Get in there. We'll wait. If she doesn't show up soon, we'll shoot you and leave you to the wolves while we go after her.”
If he weren't so busy stifling a groan of agony, he'd have laughed. Damn, his leg hurt. Wolves, ha! Right about now, he'd probably welcome the distraction of being torn limb from limb.
Falling prostrate into the tiny enclosure, he was thankful he'd anticipated tedious nights of stakeout duty and built it long enough to stretch out in. But why the hell had he flown in the face of tradition and not left both ends open? There was no way to unravel a wall and sneak out without attracting major attention. Extracting one branch to create an escape hole, ten more would snap and crackle in reaction.
Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors Page 242