by Nicole Helm
Regardless of his ability to piece together the puzzle of her life, she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him anything. Considering the fact that she had pepper-sprayed and then nearly killed him, he was being remarkably nice.
He stared at her as she dumped the last bit of water on her face and gasped from the cold.
“You gonna tell me, or will I have to play twenty questions to get it out of you?” he persisted.
“Actually,” she began, “I’m here looking for a man. His name is Chad Martin. Do you happen to know where I can find him?”
The man stood up, then reached behind his back and pulled out a set of handcuffs. Before she could even react, he had her arms behind her back and the cuffs flipped over her wrists. “Lady, I don’t know who the hell you are or what the hell you are doing here, but if you’re looking for Chad, you ain’t gonna find nothing but trouble.”
Copyright © 2020 by Danica Winters
Keep reading for an excerpt from Heartbreaker by B.J. Daniels.
Heartbreaker
by B.J. Daniels
CHAPTER ONE
Her eyes flew open, her fight or flight response already wide awake. She jerked up in the bed, blinking wildly, terrified and yet unable to believe what she was seeing. Three hulking dark forms appeared out of the shadows of the huge master bedroom. One of the men tripped over her duffel bag on the floor where she’d dropped it. He swore as he kicked it out of the way.
She tried hopelessly to banish the men back into whatever nightmare they’d climbed out of, realizing the stumble must have been what had awakened her.
All she could think rationally was that this couldn’t be happening, because these men being here tonight was so wrong.
But before she could open her mouth to speak—let alone scream—the largest of the three intruders reached her side of the king-size bed. Roughly he pushed her down and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. This was real.
She finally screamed, but the gloved hand over her mouth muffled the sound. Not that it would have done any good if she had hollered to bloody hell. There was no one else in the house to come to her rescue—let alone anyone nearby. The house was high on the mountainside overlooking Flathead Lake, surrounded by acres of forest and as isolated as money could buy.
Frantically she shook her head as she met the man’s eyes, the only feature not hidden by his black ski mask, and tried to communicate with him that she wasn’t the woman he wanted.
“Don’t fight me,” the man said in a hoarse whisper as he renewed his efforts to hold her down. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
But she did fight because they were making a terrible mistake and they didn’t know it. That realization sent panic rocketing through her system. Her heart banged against her rib cage, her thundering pulse deafening in her ears. She fought to pull the clamp from her mouth.
If she could only explain the error they were making. Failing in her attempts to pull away his gloved hand, she struck out with her fists as her legs kicked wildly to free themselves from the covers. All she’d managed to do was to make things worse. He leaned over her, pressing his body weight against her chest with his forearm, taking away her breath.
“Did you find it?” the man holding her down demanded of the other two. They had produced flashlights, she saw, and were now searching the room. She could hear one of them at the dressing table knocking over bottles of expensive perfume and rejuvenating skin creams.
Moments later, she saw the smaller of the men motion that he’d found something as she tried to breathe. “Got it.” He pocketed what appeared to be a cell phone before the men turned to her.
Hope soared. They’d found whatever they’d come for. Now maybe they would leave the way they’d come in, like phantoms in the night. It wasn’t as if she’d seen their faces.
Her slender thread of hope died as she heard the man holding her down say, “Help me with her.” The words sent a fresh stab of alarm coursing through her. She fought even harder. Kicking free of the covers, she got a leg out and struck the smallest of the men in his masked face as he tried to grab her legs. She felt his nose give under her heel and make a loud pop. He let out a wounded cry as he backed off.
“Damn it,” the first man said. “I need help here.”
The other man intruder, the one who’d been searching the room earlier, climbed on the bed, crawling across the king-size mattress toward her. She caught him in the jaw with her fist before he pinned her arms down as he climbed on top of her.
She struggled to breathe from the weight of him, gagging. What had he eaten tonight? Pizza with anchovies? She tried to turn her head away as she bucked in an attempt to throw him off her, but he was too heavy. All she could do was heave and squirm under him, horrified at what these men now planned to do with her. To her.
“Come here,” ordered the man who still had her mouth covered. The one she’d kicked in the face approached, still holding one of his gloved hands over his bleeding nose. “Cover her mouth.”
She caught the angry glint in the man’s pale eyes before the men made the switch. She tried to tell them about the mistake they were making, but before she could get out more than a word and a breath, the broken-nose man covered her mouth roughly with his bloody glove. She gagged at the smell and feel of the warm, sticky liquid on her lips. But it was the look in his eyes that sent her heart rate off the charts.
He would kill her if he got the chance.
Panic had her inhaling sharply through her nose as she watched in growing terror as the first man pulled a syringe from his coat pocket. She fought with all the strength she had left in her. But even as she did, she knew it was useless. She stood no chance against three men. She felt him jab the needle into her neck as she continued to fight until her body went limp.
As she lay like a ragdoll, helpless on the bed, she heard a sound that turned her blood to ice. Someone was tearing duct tape into strips.
Copyright © 2020 by Barbara Heinlein
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ISBN: 9781488067242
South Dakota Showdown
Copyright © 2020 by Nicole Helm
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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