A Marshal's Promise
Page 20
The man said something to Dane. A polite smile curved her lips before she turned back to stare into the darkness.
Dane. What are you doing? If you don’t know the guy, get off the elevator!
Something flashed in the man’s hand. A glint of steel?
Ryker’s pulse kicked into overdrive. He sprinted the remaining distance to the elevator, adrenaline shooting through his body, pain tearing at his side. “Dane, wait!”
Her head whipped around. Surprise registered on her face in the arched eyebrows and the widened eyes, but her body didn’t follow. Not until the man’s arm reached up and encircled her neck. He jerked her in front to shield him, jutting the knife against her creamy throat as the elevator doors slid closed.
God, help her!
Ryker blinked. His prayers hadn’t brought his family back. What made him think they would work for Dane?
A groan escaped his throat. Regret and some other emotion—fear?—knocked him off balance. Why hadn’t he discharged himself from the hospital sooner? He could have talked to Dane. Formed a plan. Known what he was up against. Sweat beaded along his neck and hairline.
He spun around. Where were the stairs? He should be able to give the creep a run for his money. Even without his spleen.
Ryker lunged for the stairwell. Pushed his body up the steps as hard as he dared, not bothering to stop at the second floor. He yanked open the door to the third floor and glanced out at the elevator light. Still going.
He did the same for the fourth floor. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. By the tenth floor, his insides burned, his lungs heaving, straining for air.
The elevator light flashed to eleven.
“Wait until I get my hands on you, mister!” Ryker sucked in a huge breath and ducked into the stairwell again.
Ryker checked the elevator again on the twelfth floor. Did it stop moving? He hesitated, not daring to breathe, waiting for the light to blink its location. Was that it?
“What? Not going to the top, jerk?” His steps slow and methodical, he approached the elevator, hair dripping with sweat. He reached inside his suit jacket, gripped the cold metal of his gun, and slid it out of the holster.
He waited.
Five seconds.
Nothing happened.
Ten.
Fifteen. What was going on?
Ryker stepped closer to the elevator but stopped when the room started to spin. He stood still and closed his eyes, riding out the excruciating pain that gripped his side. Maybe leaving the hospital before the doctor released him hadn’t been such a great idea.
He opened his eyes and blew out a long breath, hoping that would slow his breathing and stop the ringing in his ears. Come on, man! Dane needs you.
He rapped knuckles on the elevator door. “Dane. Can you hear me?”
“Ryker? Is that you?” Her voice sounded far away, muffled. Gagged?
“Yeah, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“I’m stuck.” He heard a thump, then another. What was she doing?
“Are you by yourself?”
“Yes. That creep tied me up. I can’t get the knot loose.”
That “creep” had better be long gone. “Hang on, honey. I’ll get you out in a minute.”
Ryker mashed a finger against the elevator button, but the doors didn’t swing open. Pressed again. Hmmm. Jammed?
He tapped the key holder next to the elevator shaft with the gun a couple times until it shattered. He tugged the key out and twisted it. Taking a deep breath, he straddled his legs and pushed. Blood saturated through his bandage and soaked his shirt, the repulsive scent forcing him to cover his nose with his sleeve.
The doors opened. Dane huddled against the glass wall closest to the outside, her hands trussed to the handrail with the jerk’s tie. Even so, she flashed him a wide grin, her dimples showing. “What took you so long?”
Keeping this wildcat safe all week might take more energy than he had.
Now he just had to extricate her from this stinking elevator. His gaze slid past Dane to the city lights of Charlotte sparkling outside, lighting up the inside of the elevator. With clammy palms, his blood pressure rocketed to the stars. His lungs refused to release any air. Even so, he shuffled toward her, putting one foot in front of the other.
Her smile faded as her eyes widened with panic. “Ryker, you can do this. Look at me. I need you to untie me and then we can get out of here. Don’t look outside. Just look at me.”
His breath came in short gasps. He dug deep, focused on Dane’s warm-as-coffee eyes.
“Ryker, let’s go. What if that creep decides to come back? You can do this.”
He blinked. He could do this. He had to do this. How else would Dane get out? Besides, he would need a ride back to the hospital.
He eased forward a few more inches. Closer to Dane. Just a few more feet.
“Get me outta here and I’ll take you to get your favorite ice cream. Espresso chip. My treat. Better put a little more step into it though, McLane.” She lifted her chin in a dare. Probably what made her such a great Flight Medic.
“Wait a minute. That’s not my favorite. That’s yours.”
“Yeah? Well, do you think Butter Pecan would motivate you to get over here? Not hardly.” She scoffed, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. How could she be smiling after what she’d been through?
He snorted. Because she was a risk-taking tomboy who couldn’t last one evening without digging a deeper hole of trouble. How did Steven keep up with her? Ryker eased closer, taking baby steps. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
“Now? Can’t we chew on bones after we get out of here? Maybe you’d rather go out for some ribs?”
He reached Dane’s side, gritting his teeth against the relentless pain, and tugged the knots loose.
Dane reached up with both arms, and he pulled her into a hug.
Pain clawed at his side. He winced. Gasped. Turned his head. The lights outside so bright. The distance from the ground. Blinding lights. Pain.
He loosened his grip on Dane and succumbed to the darkness and oblivion, some place that didn’t hurt as much, and felt his body fall.
The last thing he saw was his blood staining Dane’s turquoise dress.
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About the Author
Dora Hiers believes that a person should love what they do or choose to do something else. She’s doing exactly what makes her heart sing and considers every day a gift. When she takes a break from cranking out heart racing, God-gracing romances, Dora enjoys quiet mornings sipping coffee on their mountain cabin deck and lazy afternoons in her hammock reading a great book. Life’s too short to be stuck in traffic, to drink bad coffee, or to read books with a sad ending. Dora and her real-life hero make their home in North Carolina, but with a world full of amazing places to explore, that’s only a landing point. Connect with Dora:
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Dora also writes stories minus a distinct faith element but still sprinkled with hope, grace and second chances using her pen name, Tori Kayson. Clean and wholesome romance, no sex scenes, no cursing, no need to hide the books from your kids or grandkiddos. But definitely a tad more heat than most Christian books. Check out Sweet Romance that Sizzles by Tori Kayson.
Books by Dora Hiers
Potter’s House
Her Cowboy Forever, coming in March 2020
Her Christmas Cowboy, coming in August 2020
Her Cowboy the Spy, coming in February 2021
Merriville Firefighter Heroes
Fully Involved
Fully Committed
Fully Surrendered, included in the Autumn Hearts anthology
A Marshal’s Secret
A Marshal’s Promise
A Marshal’s Embrace
Cider Lake
His Valentine Promise
Her Valentine Vet
Novellas
Christmas on Mistletoe Mountain
Where Wishes Live
Books by Tori Kayson
Kester Ranch Cowboys
Roping the Cowboy
Roping the Marshal
Roping the Daddy
Novellas
Kissing Santa Nic