Rescuing Macie

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Rescuing Macie Page 2

by Susan Stoker


  So she was resorting to Plan B.

  Her first choice would always be to hide inside. Away from the world. Cocooned from prying eyes and judgmental stares. But being pragmatic, she also knew if a tornado came through, or if there was a fire, she couldn’t hide inside the apartment. She needed an escape route. And that was the other reason why she’d chosen this unit.

  Right outside her bedroom was a large tree. It wasn’t easy, but she could jump from the window ledge onto the large branch that grew perpendicular to the ground, toward the building. She knew she could do it because she’d practiced. Always in the middle of the night, when no one was around to see what she was doing and judge her.

  Every moment of her life, Macie worried about what people thought of her. Were they looking at her and laughing about her clothes? Did her hair look weird? After she met someone, she always wondered if she’d said the right things, if they were talking about her to their friends.

  It was a curse, and she hated feeling the way she did, but she couldn’t turn it off. She took Lexapro daily to try to control her anxiety and to quiet the voices in her head that were constantly telling her she wasn’t good enough, smart enough, or capable of doing her job. And when needed, she took a Vistaril tablet, which made her feel nothing at all, and that was bliss when her anxiety got the better of her.

  Knowing her apartment wasn’t that big and she had mere seconds before the men came into her room, Macie quickly raised the window, thankful that she’d recently made sure it was in good working order, and eyed the tree branch. Her breaths came out in short puffs and she could feel the tips of her fingers begin to tingle. She really wanted to run back in and grab her meds, but she had no time.

  “Remember, he’s not sure if she’s already found the stuff, but if we get it tonight, we’ll earn an extra grand. So don’t spend too much time with the bitch.”

  “Awwww, come on. I love it when they cry and fight. It makes it that much better.”

  There was a muffled smacking sound and a quiet umph before the first man said, “We get the shit first. Then if there’s time, you can have your fun.”

  The men were whispering, but she could still hear them clearly. Macie didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what they were talking about. At least when it came to the “fun” the one man wanted. She had no clue what they could possibly be looking for, but she’d run out of time to even think about it.

  If she’d been asleep, she wouldn’t have heard them until it was too late.

  Shoving her cell phone in the waistband of the sleep shorts she had on, Macie ducked and climbed onto the windowsill. It was second nature to make sure she always had her phone on her. She needed the security it provided. The small electronic device was a way to get help if her anxiety completely overwhelmed her…which it had more than once.

  She wished that she could find a way to close the window after she jumped, so the men in her bedroom wouldn’t know where she’d gone, but it was too late to think of that now.

  Hyperventilating, Macie eyed the branch—and jumped.

  She let out an umph when she landed on her stomach on the limb. She held on for dear life, but felt extremely shaky and wasn’t sure she could hang on. She vaguely felt her inner thighs burning from scraping along the rough bark, but the pain barely registered. She had probably thirty seconds or so, tops, before one of the men looked out the window. They’d probably see the empty bed and go straight to the closet first. At least she hoped that’s what they would do. It would buy her a bit of time.

  Scrambling to her feet quickly and carefully, Macie shuffled along the large branch, holding on to the smaller limbs above her as she made her way toward the trunk. She began to climb downward as fast as she could, mentally counting the seconds. When she’d practiced this, she’d always been wearing jeans and sneakers. Bare feet and pajama shorts weren’t exactly conducive to a middle-of-the-night escape.

  Macie was trying to be quiet while still moving as fast as possible. Climbing down was harder because of her lack of proper clothing and the way her entire body was shaking. Stretching her leg down to the final branch, she sighed in relief, thinking she’d made it.

  “Hey!” a low voice shouted from above her.

  She startled so bad, she missed the branch and tumbled the three feet or so to the ground, landing on her ass. Without looking up at her window, Macie leaped to her feet and took off running. As she ran, she pulled out her cell phone—which had miraculously not fallen out of her shorts as she’d climbed out of the tree—and frantically pushed one of the saved numbers as she tried to figure out where she could hide.

  * * * *

  Colonel Colton Robinson ran a hand over his face wearily. It was oh-two-thirty in the morning and both Delta Force teams were finishing up their debrief of the mission they’d just returned from. The fourteen men, from two different teams, had worked together to bring down a high-value target who had been hiding out in Africa. Logistically, the last week and a half had been a bitch, but Colt had never doubted the men under his command for a second.

  Ghost’s team was older and more experienced, and tended to err on the side of caution. All seven men were married, some had children, so their main concern was getting home to their families safe and sound. Trigger’s team, on the other hand, was younger, mostly late twenties and early thirties, and all of them single. They had no problem taking risks and doing everything necessary to get the job done.

  Together, the fourteen men were the best he’d ever had the pleasure to command. Colt trusted each and every one of them, and the latest mission had been no exception. The HVT was neutralized and they’d done it without blowing their cover. As far as the African government and the terrorist organization was concerned, the man had died in a local skirmish, not at the hands of the US military.

  Colt knew everyone was anxious to get home, but debriefing was required. He listened as Lefty explained how they’d exited the compound where the HVT had been holed up. Colt knew all the details, but protocol demanded they review it one more time.

  He heard the unmistakable sound of a phone vibrating and turned to frown at the man sitting to his left. Truck knew they weren’t supposed to have their phones on, but at least he’d had the decency to put it on vibrate. Colt wouldn’t reprimand him—if he had a wife or kids at home, he’d want them to be able to get ahold of him at any time—but he glared at Truck to let him know that he was walking a fine line.

  Truck looked down at his phone and frowned. He brought the phone to his ear. “Mace? What are—”

  The second Truck said his sister’s name, Colt straightened in his chair and all his attention was on the soldier sitting next to him.

  So many times in the last two months, he’d wanted to ask Truck for his sister’s number, but he didn’t want to pressure Macie with his attention if she didn’t want it. And he had to assume she didn’t, because he’d flat-out asked her if he could see her again the last time they’d been together—and she’d snuck out of his house without a word or leaving him a way to contact her.

  The memories of the last time he’d seen Macie were interrupted when Truck stood and moved toward the door, the phone still to his ear.

  Without thought, Colt stood and followed Truck. At the last second, he turned to the group of men still sitting around the table. “Dismissed,” he said absently. They’d finish the debrief later.

  “Sir?” Ghost called as Colt was about to disappear.

  He waved at the man and said, “I’ll call if we need you.” And then he was rushing after Truck down the hallway.

  “Mace, slow down. What’s wrong?” Truck asked.

  Colt’s blood ran cold. He hurried to catch up, trying to control himself and not rip the phone out of Truck’s hand.

  “I’m coming!” he said urgently. “Find a place to hide. I’m on my way.”

  That was it. Colt was done. “Give me the phone,” he ordered.

  Truck’s gaze went to his, and his brows drew down i
n surprise and annoyance.

  Colt wiggled his fingers. “Give her to me. You drive. I’ll talk.”

  Surprisingly, Truck nodded and handed him his phone. Both men ran down the hall to the door that led out to the parking lot. Colt reached in his pocket and threw his keychain at Truck even as he brought the phone up to his ear. “Macie?”

  “Yeah?” was the weak answer.

  “It’s Colt. From Truck’s wedding. What’s going on? Where are you?” He could hear her wheezing as she hyperventilated, and it only increased his concern.

  “My apartment. Men broke in. I got out but I don’t know where to go!”

  Colt’s heart dropped at her words. He and Truck arrived at his Jeep Wrangler and both jumped in. He pulled out his own cell and dialed 9-1-1, then handed it to Truck. The other man started the Jeep and began talking to the dispatcher at the same time. Within seconds, they were racing out of the parking lot and headed for the front gate of the Army post.

  “What do you see around you?” Colt asked Macie. “Look around, Macie. Tell me what you’re looking at,” he ordered.

  “A big open parking area. Trees at the edge.”

  “Are there lights? Cars parked close together?”

  “Lights near the buildings, not as many farther out. There’s lots of cars. Oh shit…” she said.

  “What? Macie, talk to me,” Colt barked.

  “I hear the men,” Macie whispered. “They’re looking for me.”

  The terror in her voice made panic rise within Colt and he held the phone against his chest for a second to try to regain his composure. He turned to Truck. “Hurry. Drive as fast as you fucking can. They’re hunting her.”

  The second the words left his mouth, Colt felt the Jeep lurch forward. It was a good thing it was the middle of the night and no one was on the streets. Truck was driving like a bat out of hell.

  It was thirty miles to Lampasas. There was no way they could get there in time to help if the assholes got their hands on her. Truck had called the cops, but Colt knew what he told Macie in the next couple minutes could be a matter of life and death.

  “Head away from the lights. If it’s dark, they can’t see where you are exactly,” he told her urgently. “Do you understand?”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “Have they seen you?”

  “I-I don’t think so.”

  She was breathing hard and still wheezing. Colt’s chest hurt for her. “Good. Head for a row of cars as far away from the lights as possible. Get under one. Not behind it, but under it. Then if you need to, you can crawl under the one next to it. Then the next. Keep moving if you have to. If it’s possible, work your way around the cars until you get to a section of vehicles they’ve already checked. As a last resort, head into the trees, but only if they don’t see you. The last thing you want is to go farther away from civilization where the men could do whatever they want to you without someone hearing or seeing. Understand?”

  She didn’t answer him, but he heard her breaths coming quick and shallow through the phone.

  “I’m here,” he said, forcing his voice to lower and calm. She needed him to be her rock right now. He couldn’t let her hear one ounce of panic in his tone. “I’ve got you, Macie. You’re doing great. Just listen to me. You’re amazing. I’m sure they didn’t expect you to outsmart them. Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’ve got this.” Colt kept up the litany of praise even as he gripped the phone so tightly his fingers were cramping.

  He glanced at the speedometer and saw that Truck was doing ninety-five. The Wrangler shook slightly from the speed, but the only thing Colt could think was, Go faster. God, just go faster.

  “They’re coming this way,” Macie said—and Colt lowered his chin to his chest, closed his eyes and prayed harder than he’d ever prayed before.

  * * * *

  Macie had no idea what Colt was doing with her brother at two-thirty in the morning, but she couldn’t deny that she was extremely grateful. She didn’t even flinch when Colt called her brother Truck. He’d apparently been given the nickname when he’d joined the Army. She was trying to remember to call him that, but because he’d been Ford to her as long as she could remember, it was tough.

  And as much as she knew her brother would’ve helped her, hearing Colt’s steady voice kept her grounded. She remembered after Truck’s wedding, when she’d been having an anxiety attack, he’d held her against him and talked to her in his low, rumbly voice. How much it had helped. He’d calmed her and helped pull her out of the dark place her mind had gone.

  The same was happening tonight. She’d been panicking and running headlong through the parking lot, with no idea what to do or where to go, when he’d forced her to pay attention to her surroundings. He gave her something to concentrate on, and it felt good to let him take over and tell her what to do.

  She had no idea why he hadn’t called her after her brother’s wedding. He’d asked her out and she’d badly wanted to spend more time with him, but he hadn’t called. Hadn’t gotten in touch with her. His rejection had hurt, but she really wasn’t surprised. She was a pain in the ass and no one as amazing as Colt would want to be with her.

  At the moment, however, she had more pressing issues to think about. Looking back toward the building, Macie didn’t see any sign of the men who’d broken into her apartment, but she could hear their footsteps. Macie ducked behind a car and dropped to her knees.

  She winced but ignored the pain and crawled between a row of cars, making sure to stay out of sight. Then she lay down on her belly and crawled under one of the cars in the lot. She was wearing a tight tank top and her sleep shorts, because she hated to feel constricted by clothing when she slept.

  “Macie?” Colt asked.

  She opened her mouth to respond when she heard one of the men saying to his friend, “She has to be this way. We’ve checked all the other cars.”

  It felt like she was having a heart attack. Her chest was tight and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. But she couldn’t gasp for oxygen because they’d hear her.

  Macie mentally berated herself for calling her brother and not the police. If she’d called 9-1-1, they’d probably be here by now.

  “Easy, Mace,” Colt said in her ear. She ground her teeth together and forced herself to listen to him rather than the two men who were still looking for her. “You can do this. You told me that you used to play Army with Truck when you were younger. This is the same thing. Remember when you hid in that bush one afternoon and he couldn’t find you anywhere? See if you can do that again. It’s dark where you are, right? If you’re quiet, they’ll never see you. They’ll walk right on by.”

  Macie nodded, even though Colt couldn’t see her. She’d told him about hiding from her big brother when she was at Colt’s house, the night of Ford’s wedding. She’d crawled under a bush next to a neighbor’s house and her brother hadn’t been able to find her. Eventually she’d fallen asleep, and Ford had been beside himself with worry, thinking that she’d been snatched off the street. He’d walked by her hiding place dozens of times without knowing she was there.

  It was only a matter of time before one of the men found her under the car, though. This wasn’t a game, and she wasn’t a kid anymore. Macie was sure they were looking under each and every one of the vehicles. It wouldn’t work to simply roll under the one next to her; eventually she’d run out of cars and be stuck.

  Quickly, still trying to be as quiet as she could, Macie backed up. Her knees were getting torn to pieces, but she barely felt the rough asphalt digging into them. She wiggled her way to the back side of the SUV she was huddled under and turned around. She was at the edge of the parking lot, and there was a row of hedges, then the trees and creek she so loved to look at while she was working.

  Remembering what Colt had said, she resisted the urge to get up and run into the trees. Instead, she stayed on her hands and knees and hurriedly crawled to the thick hedge. She pushed her way between the leaves, thankful
it wasn’t winter and there were actually leaves to hide behind. The branches scratched at her arms, but again, she didn’t feel the slight sting. At five-seven, she wasn’t exactly small, but she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped an arm around them. She brought the phone to her ear and ducked her head into her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  “I crawled into a bunch of bushes,” she said in a toneless whisper. “Colt?”

  “Yeah, Mace? I’m here. Are you hidden? Are you safe? Are the men still looking for you?”

  “I can’t breathe.”

  “Yes you can. You’re doing amazing. In and out. Remember how you breathed with me that night? Close your eyes. Imagine we’re back in my bed. I’m behind you, and my hand is on your chest. In…and out. Slow down your breaths, Mace. That’s it. They’re gonna walk right by you. They can’t see you. In…and out. That’s good. You’re doing great.”

  Amazingly, his voice in her ear, along with the way she was pinching her thigh to try to force her attention away from her situation, was working. She breathed with him, not making a sound. Macie could feel her lungs loosening up a bit.

  “You start on that side, I’ll start over here. If she’s not under the cars, I’m guessing she ran into the trees. We can catch up with her and make sure she hasn’t found the shit and blabbed about it to the pigs.”

  “Then I can have my fun?” the other man asked.

  “Jesus, you have a one-track mind. Yes, once she spills her guts, you can do whatever the fuck you want with her.”

  Their voices were loud enough that Colt heard them.

  “Don’t listen to them, Mace. Concentrate only on me. You’re good. We’re almost there. You just have to hang on for another couple minutes. You can do that. Piece of cake.”

  Colt’s voice was almost as good as the drugs she used to control her anxiety and panic attacks. Almost.

  Macie heard the men getting closer and closer to her hiding spot, and she felt her breathing speed up once more. She couldn’t help it. They were going to find her and torture her until she gave them information. She had no idea what they were looking for when they’d broken in, but she’d tell them whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t hurt her.

 

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