He snorted. “Forget it. I may be a scumbag, but I’m not a stupid scumbag.”
When he tugged on her arm, she wrenched away from him and ran blindly down the street. She had no idea where she was going and didn’t care. She had to get away from the darkness.
It took only a few moments for him to catch her. He grabbed her upper arms and held on tightly, the calluses on his palms grazing her skin. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked, his voice a low snarl. “I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
She couldn’t answer. As he pulled her closer to the door, she struggled frantically against his grasp, lashing out blindly with her fists and feet.
“Hey, take it easy,” he said. His grip gentled and confusion replaced the anger in his voice. “What’s going on?”
When she continued to struggle, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her against his body and immobilizing her hands. “Stop it, Eleanor. Listen to me! I’m not going to hurt you!”
She tried to push him away, but his body was solid and hard against her back, a wall of muscle and determination.
When she continued to fight, he merely tightened his hold on her. Finally, when she was squeezed intimately against him and suddenly very aware of every ridge and contour of his body, she stopped struggling.
The heavy summer air swirled around her, making her conscious of the heat radiating from Michael’s body. His pungent male scent and the hardness of his lean muscles surrounded her. Sudden, acute awareness of his masculinity flooded her. The sensation was as uncomfortable and unwelcome as her previous terror.
“You can let me go now,” she muttered.
“Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”
She jerked free of his grasp, telling herself the unexpected feeling was just nerves. “You mean other than the fact that I’ve been kidnapped and manhandled?”
“Yeah. Other than that.” He held her gaze steadily.
“I’m afraid of the dark, all right? Are you happy now?” she said, ashamed to admit to her childish fear. But she couldn’t control it. As she stared at the darkness, memories crowded in around her, enveloping her in a smothering blanket of terror.
“Damn it!” He let loose a string of curses in a low voice. “You can mouth off to a desperate man with a gun, but you can’t walk into a dark building?”
“No.”
He swore again, then sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “Why did I have to pick a neurotic woman who’s afraid of the dark?”
“I didn’t ask you to pick me,” she retorted, feeling her panic ease since he wasn’t dragging her toward the door of the building.
“Yeah, well, I made a mistake,” he muttered. “But there’s nothing I can do about it now. You’re just going to have to suck it up and come with me. We won’t be in there for very long.”
Before she could refuse, he’d grabbed her arm again and dragged her through the door into the inky blackness.
Easing the door shut, he stepped nearer to her. “I’m right here,” he said in a low voice. “Stay close to me and you’ll be fine. Here, take my hand.”
Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she hardly heard him. But his hand brushed hers and she grabbed for it without thinking. She needed contact, needed to know she wasn’t alone. His fingers twined with hers, and he held her hand in a firm but oddly gentle grasp. To stop her hand from shaking, she pressed her palm against his. He hesitated for a moment, then tightened his grasp. Her fear eased slightly.
“All right now?”
His words echoed loudly in the darkness and shattered the fragile spell between them. Once again she was trapped in a dark place with a man aiming a gun at her. Eleanor swallowed and tried to focus on the weak light filtering through the broken windows. “I’m fine,” she lied.
“Then let’s go. I have a flashlight close by. But you’re going to have to take a few steps with me.”
She tried to banish the fear and will her legs to move. It wasn’t completely black inside the building, she told herself. After a moment, her eyes began adjusting, and she could make out ghostly shapes in front of her.
“That’s the old shelving,” Michael said in a low voice, as if he could read her mind. “This used to be a factory. It’s been empty for several years.”
“Why are we here?” she asked, forcing the words through chattering teeth. She wasn’t sure which made her more afraid, the darkness or the possible reasons they were in this empty building.
“I told you, I have to get something.” He stopped moving and turned to her. The whites of his eyes gleamed, his face nothing more than a shadow. “I meant it when I said I don’t intend to hurt you. I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not why we’re in this building.”
“What do you have to get?” She didn’t believe him, she told herself flatly. What could there possibly be in this empty building?
“You don’t have to know that.” He continued to watch her. “Can you keep moving?”
Somehow she nodded. “Yes.” She couldn’t bear to think about the alternative, which was standing still and listening to the blood thundering through her veins.
“Good.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I knew you were tough, Eleanor.”
Her heart jumped in her chest with an odd flutter of pride. The next moment she told herself not to be an idiot. What did she care about words of praise from a carjacker? All she cared about was getting away from him as soon as possible.
Gathering her wits, she saw a large broken window on the other side of the building. If she could get to it she could escape from this space, and from him. And if she could get enough of a head start, she could find the spare key she kept in a magnetized box under her car. With a little luck, she could be away from this nightmare in a couple of minutes.
Could she run through her fear? Yes, she could. She had no choice. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then turned to look at him. “You don’t have to hold on to me anymore. I’m not going to fall apart.”
He turned to study her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“All right.” Tentatively, he let go of her hand.
She watched him steadily, and as soon as he turned his attention away from her, she shoved him as hard as she could.
He lost his balance and fell to the floor with a grunt of pain. She hesitated for only a moment, then turned and began sprinting toward the window.
“Eleanor, stop!” His desperate whisper echoed off the walls. “Don’t move! This place isn’t safe!”
She didn’t look back or slow down. She kept her gaze fixed on the yawning opening in front of her and tried not to think about the darkness pressing in on her from all sides.
“Eleanor, don’t go any farther.” She heard his footsteps behind her, but he was moving carefully. “Stop! The floor is rotten. I don’t want you to fall through. You could get hurt.”
Although he didn’t raise his voice above a whisper, she could hear the urgency in it. She slowed down, staring at the floor, but could see nothing. Her stomach rolled and she searched desperately for the broken window and the reassuring glow from the streetlight.
“Stay there and I’ll get the flashlight,” he said behind her. “I don’t dare come closer. We might both fall through.”
She heard him retreating and she closed her eyes. This was her chance. She was almost there. Another thirty feet and she’d be at the window.
She took a step forward and heard an ominous cracking sound beneath her. She froze, but it didn’t matter. Another sharp crack echoed, and suddenly the floor dropped away.
CHAPTER TWO
MICHAEL REILLY FELT the floor shudder before he heard the sharp crack of rotten wood splitting. He lunged in Eleanor’s direction, knowing he would be too late.
The silence was even more deafening than the sound of the breaking timbers. “Eleanor?” he said in a harsh whisper. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Her
voice was surprisingly strong. “I didn’t make it that far away from you.”
He let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m not all right. I’m stuck in the floor.”
He exhaled in a rush when he heard her acerbic tone. Apparently she was more angry than injured. “Hold on a minute. I need to get the flashlight before I can get you out of there.”
“Go ahead. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, oddly reluctant to walk away from her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll live. No thanks to you,” she muttered.
Her words were a blow he hadn’t expected, hitting him squarely in the chest. But after a long moment he drew a hard breath. She didn’t know those words were a grim reality, couldn’t know that earlier tonight someone else hadn’t lived, because of him.
He turned and ran up the stairs, stopping on the sixth step to remove the flashlight he’d stored behind the loose bricks of the wall. Then he hurried to the next floor. Keeping the light covered with his hand, he reached the stack of pallets that was his landmark. Groping behind them, he found the nylon strap of his backpack and pulled the bag out. In one movement he hefted it over his shoulders and headed back down the stairs.
It bounced against the wound on his back like a hot knife stabbing him with every step, but he ignored the pain. He’d be hurting a hell of a lot more if they found him. Once he and Eleanor were in the car, he could take off the pack. He could tend to his wound after they were out of Midland.
When he reached the first floor he aimed the flashlight at Eleanor, to reassure himself she was all right. She stood hip-deep in a hole in the floor. Her eyes were huge in the darkness, and he could practically taste her fear. But when the flashlight illuminated her face, she lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance.
The rush of relief was staggering and an unwelcome surprise. “I guess you can’t be too badly hurt,” he drawled, trying to hide his reaction.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re giving me a real mouthy look.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “That look is amazement that you’re not already locked up. What kind of a kidnapper lets his victim walk away from him? You have a lot to learn about committing crimes.”
“Since you’re a librarian, maybe you can suggest some books for me to read.”
“The only book you’re going to get is the one the police will throw at you when they catch you,” she sniffed.
He smothered a laugh as he made his way across the creaking floor. Who knew the quiet, plain woman he’d snatched from the library would have such steel in her spine?
But his smile faded when he got closer to her. “You were lucky as hell, Ellie,” he muttered. “Look at the holes in this floor.”
“My name isn’t Ellie,” she snapped.
He shined the light on her again. “Why not? It suits you.”
She clamped her mouth shut, and he was delighted to see the temper spark in her eyes. If he provoked her enough, maybe she’d forget to be afraid of him.
But when he finally reached her, the last vestige of humor vanished. The edges of the boards she’d fallen through were jagged and sharp as knives. And she was steadying herself on the floor with hands that shook.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked, instinctively reaching for her, but stopping before he touched her.
She nodded, her eyes huge and dark in the reflected light of the flashlight. He’d thought earlier they were blue, but now they were so dilated it was impossible to tell. “The boards scratched my legs, but that’s it. I’m standing on whatever broke my fall.”
He shone the flashlight down into the ragged hole in the wooden floor and his heart contracted in his chest. She was standing on one of the beams that held up the floor. If she had fallen a foot in either direction, she would have gone straight to the basement floor, a good twenty feet below.
“You’re safe where you are,” he said, tightening his grip on the flashlight. “Just don’t move. I’ll get you out of there in a minute.”
“Wait,” she said, laying her hand on his arm.
It was small and delicate and fluttered over his skin like the wings of a bird. She froze, then jerked away as if he’d bitten her. Desire surged through him with a blast of heat. He wanted her hands on him again, wanted to feel her touching him. He scowled and bit off a vicious curse.
“I have an idea,” she said, gripping the ragged edge of a floorboard. “I don’t want to go with you, and I know you don’t want to take me. Just leave me here and go. By the time someone finds me in the morning, you’ll be far away and I won’t be able to tell the police where you’ve gone.”
He rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“This solves both of our problems,” she said. Her teeth were chattering, although she didn’t seem to realize it. “I don’t want to go with you, and you can’t want to take me. Leave me here and take off.”
“Leave you here, in this neighborhood? In an abandoned building? With you standing on a beam twenty feet above a cement floor? In the dark?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“The hell you will.” He stared at her. “You’re out of your mind! I’m not leaving you here! Once I get you out of this hole, we’re leaving. Together.”
“It’ll be hours before anyone finds me. It won’t matter by then what I tell the police. You’ll have had plenty of time to get far away.” She paused before continuing. “I thought you were desperate to get away from Midland.”
“That’s not the point,” he said in a furious whisper. She was probably right. A real criminal wouldn’t hesitate to leave her here. He had her car keys. All he had to do was walk out the door. It would be a lot easier than taking her with him.
He wasn’t that desperate. There was no way he’d leave a woman in this abandoned warehouse, in this part of town. Especially since this particular woman was afraid of the dark.
“Look,” he said, leaning closer. “Leaving you here isn’t an option. You’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”
“Why?” She frowned at him. “You’re running from something. You can’t want to be slowed down by a hostage. Leaving me here is the logical thing to do.”
“Do you analyze everything?”
“Yes. Especially things that don’t make any sense.”
“You think it makes sense to leave you here? You might be hurt. You said your legs were scratched. God only knows what kind of infection you could pick up in this filthy hole. And who do you think is going to find you and rescue you in the morning? No one that you’d be interested in meeting, I can guarantee you that.”
She frowned. “So you’re not leaving me because you feel responsible for me? Because you’re afraid I might get hurt?”
“You got it.”
“If you’re such a thoughtful, caring guy, why did you kidnap me in the first place?”
“Never mind.” He scowled at her. He was losing control of the situation. “Here’s the flashlight. You’re going to have to hold it for me while I loosen those boards.”
He handed her the flashlight and showed her where to point it. She immediately pointed it in the direction of the windows. As he reached to snatch it away from her, he heard the sound of a car prowling slowly up the street.
“Damn it! What did you do that for?”
She glared at him. “Do you expect me to do exactly what you tell me to do? I heard a car so I tried to attract some attention.”
“Quiet!”
He listened intently for a moment. It sounded as if the car slowed down, then speeded up again.
Letting out a string of curses, he laid the flashlight on the floor and aimed it toward the hole. Then he rocked back on his heels.
The wood was splintered and jagged, and he’d have to break pieces off before it was safe to pull her out. Taking off his shirt, h
e wrapped the fabric around his hand and grasped one of the sharp edges. Bracing himself, he pulled on the piece of wood until it broke off. He tossed it to the side and reached for another one, ignoring the burning pain in his back and the warm trickle of blood. He’d reopened the wound but it didn’t matter. They had to get out of here.
“What’s wrong?” she asked sharply.
“I think that might have been the police you heard driving by. We have to move.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re bleeding!”
He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it later.”
“Why are you bleeding?”
“It’s a long story.” He stopped pulling on the wood and swiped an arm across his forehead. “Do you want to discuss it now? Or would you rather get out of here in one piece?”
Even in the weak light from the flashlight he saw her flinch away from him.
“Damn it, Ellie, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered in a harsh voice. “But if we don’t pull you out of this hole and get the hell out of here, neither of our lives is going to be worth a nickel.”
He felt her gaze on him but she didn’t say a thing. Blood flowed down his back in a steady stream by the time he’d pulled off two more jagged splinters of wood. “Hold on to my arms,” he said, standing up. “I’m going to lift you out.”
He fitted his hands around her waist and tightened his grip. In spite of the wound in his back, he raised her easily out of the hole. She felt small and fragile in his grasp. An unexpected surge of protectiveness rushed through him. He was responsible for dragging her into his mess. Now, by God, he’d better get her out of it safely.
He lifted her against him and held her for a moment. “There isn’t much to you, is there, Slim?” he murmured. He tightened his hold, and her breasts flattened against his chest. He was shocked to feel himself stir. In his haste to set her on the floor he almost dropped her.
“Are you all right?” His voice was husky and strained.
Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 2