by Diana Duncan
“Evander is probably lounging on your bed with a cold drink in one paw and the remote in the other.” He settled for a brush of lips to her forehead. “Don’t worry. Before long, my brothers will notice me missing from the reception and call out the cavalry.” If they didn’t assume he’d swept Zoe off to bed. Which, after that knock-his-combat-boots-off kiss, is where they might be spending the weekend if not for the fateful intervention.
“It must be great to have family.” An edge of longing quavered in her reply. “To know you have people you can count on, no matter what.”
“Sometimes they’re a pain in the butt, but yeah. It is.” He again stroked her hair. “First the garbage rodeo, now this. Anybody ever tell you that you’re one hell of an exciting date?”
“I don’t date. Uh, much.”
Now, that was interesting. And strange. Didn’t she have anyone to lean on? He’d figured men would swarm around smart, upbeat, outgoing Zoe like bees to a lemon blossom. She sure kissed like she knew what she was doing. His aggressive hunger would have frightened some women. Hell, the searing intensity had scared him. But Zoe’s response had flared instantly. Without hesitation, her desire had met and matched his. Bright and explosive, TNT to his flame.
“Aidan?” Growing more agitated, she shifted in his embrace, and her voice rose in pitch. “We have to get out of here. I hate the dark. I can’t hold on much longer before I completely lose it and start screaming in panic.”
“Absolutely no panicking. Hang in there, honey. I’ll get you out.” His ingrained training had already assessed the scenario and tossed around ideas. He just hoped one of them worked. Timing, as always, was everything. “I’ve been formulating a plan since I came to.”
Damn, he wished they’d cuffed his left hand instead of his right. However, keeping Zoe busy might stave off her panic. “Feel behind you where I can’t reach. Is there anything useful?”
“Just a sec.” Rustling noises ensued. “My bag! My bag is here.” More rustling. “I have a penlight in it!”
“Wait. Probably not a good idea.”
“Aidan, I need light.” Desperation spiked her words. “I would rather have the kidnappers open the trunk and shoot me dead this minute than be helplessly trapped in the dark!”
“Personally, that wouldn’t be my first choice.” Great. She was about to implode on him. The last thing they needed was to alert the kidnappers that their victims were conscious. One more round with a Taser tonight, and he could be his own night-light. “All right. Cup your hands around it and shield the tip.”
Her fumbling movements brushed his chest, and then a small glow vanquished the dark void. Stark terror etched every tense line of her face. He smiled reassuringly at her. With both their lives at stake, he had to keep her calm until they could make their move. He resorted to humor’s defusing effect, and leered at her in his best big-bad-wolf imitation. “What a tiny flashlight you have, my dear.”
Her lips wobbled dubiously, but she managed to retort, “Hey, buster, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“I’d be happy to share mine, but I seem to be without my Everready at the moment.”
“Really?” Her lush mouth curled at one corner. Then a shaky smile finally broke free. “Could’ve fooled me.”
There was the girl he knew and…whoa! Uh…okay, she was growing on him. Eliciting her one small, trembling smile felt like a bigger victory than when he’d pitched his high-school baseball team to the state championship.
She glanced around. “Are you sure we’re in a car? I don’t feel it running.”
“Listen.” He engaged her observational skills to help sublimate her fear. “What do you hear? What do you feel?”
She cocked her head. “A deep, vibrating hum, like a huge outboard motor, and…sloshing water. And we’re rocking. Why?”
“I think we’re on a ferry. Probably headed for one of the islands off the coast.” He hoped. The alternative destination was the middle of the ocean, where the car would be shoved off and sunk. With them pinned in the trunk like rats on the Titanic.
She gulped. “So…what’s the holdup, SWAT? Let’s bail.”
“I have to disable the interior light and spring the lock. Then we need to wait until the car drives off the ferry and onto a road.” Unless we’re sinking to the bottom of the Pacific. “Then we can jump out, run like hell, and pray there’s cover and that nobody notices we’re gone until it’s too late.”
Her wide, scared eyes studied his face. “Can you spring the lock?”
“Sure. No problem.” If he couldn’t, they were in trouble. He was bluffing more than during poker night with the guys. He kneaded his pockets. “Damn, they took my keys, phone and knife.” Pop had given each O’Rourke son a Swiss Army knife on his thirteenth birthday. Aidan grieved over the loss for sentimental as well as practical reasons. “What else do you have handy?”
She rummaged in her bag. “They took my phone, too. But I’m glad men think girly stuff is useless. Little do they know. They left the bag. How about manicure scissors and a nail file?”
He gave her a reassuring grin and parroted her words. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
His movements were slow and awkward in the cramped quarters. Severely hindered with his right wrist chained to Zoe’s, he located the wires to the interior light and sawed through them with the minuscule scissors. Then he worked at prying the lock with the nail file.
He’d begun to make progress, when, without warning, the file snapped in half. At the same moment, the penlight winked out. Zoe yelped in distress, and he swore under his breath. “Shh, honey. We can’t let them hear us.”
“I can’t turn it back on.” Her frantic struggle jostled him, physically and emotionally. Seeing self-assured Zoe so vulnerable, so afraid, twisted his insides into knots. “The batteries must have run out. Oh, God, Aidan, hurry!”
“I’m close,” he lied. The only thing harder than jimmying a lock in murky light with a nail file while handcuffed to a semi-hysterical woman, was doing it in pitch blackness with half a nail file. Sweat beaded his upper lip and trickled down his spine as he switched to the manicure scissors. “Hang on, sweetheart. I’m right here with you.”
Outside, the chugging ferry motor sputtered, slowed. Chains rattled. Adrenaline streaked through him, and he viciously wrenched the scissors. At any second they could be shoved to a watery grave. Could he loosen the lock before seawater flooded inside and they drowned? “Can you swim?”
“Very well.” Suspicion painted her reply. “Why?”
“Just passing time.” Can you swim miles in fifty-degree water in a beaded gown while cresting six-foot breakers and handcuffed to another person? Don’t think about that. Work the lock.
Outside, metal scraped, and the ferry bumped something. A dock? Footsteps clattered, three or four men, judging by the weight and cadence. Car doors slammed, and the motor rumbled.
His painfully clenched muscles eased. They wouldn’t start the car if they planned to shove it overboard. “Here we go.”
He continued to pry the stubborn lock as the car rocketed down a paved road. When his scraped, bleeding fingers could barely function, it finally gave. “Success!”
Zoe clutched at his hand, joined to hers. “Thank goodness! Let’s blow this gig!”
He peered out. Black highway zoomed beneath them, a flesh-grinding washboard of asphalt. He held the trunk closed, so it wouldn’t give them away. “We’re going too fast to jump and survive. We’ll have to wait.” Jumping out handcuffed together was a calculated risk. If they didn’t stay in sync, either or both could be badly hurt. Then they’d be easy pickings. But waiting until they arrived at their destination and the bad guys took him out was not an option. He could hold his own in hand-to-hand combat, but even he couldn’t fight one-handed and protect Zoe at the same time.
She was his responsibility. At all costs, he had to keep her alive.
After too many agonizing minutes that carried them closer and closer to who-knew
-what fate, the car slowed and made a turn. Jouncing and bumping along, Aidan did another fast peek outside. “Dirt road. Heads up, honey. After we jump, tuck and roll. Stay low, and run off the road to our left. We don’t want to cross in front of oncoming traffic.”
“I’ll try, but I’m not sure I can run very fast.” Her voice hitched. “I’ll be a liability to you. My muscles are weak from the Taser, and stiff from being curled up so long.”
He had the same worries about himself, but the alternative was unthinkable. “You’re gonna do great. I have faith in you.”
“You do?” A trembling pause ticked past. “Th-thanks.”
“Ready?” He again glanced out. The rocky road beneath them still zipped by at a fast clip. They needed a buttload of luck.
“On the count of three.” His fingertips brushed her cheek, felt vibrating tension in every molecule of her slender body. He grinned at her. Though she couldn’t see it, she would hear it in his voice. “That would be one, two, and go on three, Riggs.”
“I appreciate the clarification, Murtaugh.” She chuckled weakly. “And if you say, ‘I’m getting too old for this crap,’ I’ll bop you one.”
He wasn’t too old. But with each passing minute, he grew way too attached to a certain spunky, persistent, too-smart-for-her-own-good reporter. “One.” Aidan sucked in a deep breath. “Two.”
He paused long enough for a hurried, silent prayer. “Three!” He shoved open the trunk lid.
Clinging to one another, they jumped.
Chapter 8
11:00 p.m.
Zoe would do anything, including bail out of a speeding automobile, to escape the dark trunk. She slung her bag over her right shoulder and clutched Aidan’s big, warm hand, her anchor in the swirling tumult. Starry sky wheeled overhead as they hurtled into space. The world spun in a dizzying arc, and she lost all sense of time and place.
Suddenly, she crashed to her hands and knees. Stunned by the bone-jarring thud, she tried to tuck and roll, but her cramped limbs would not cooperate. As Aidan landed gracefully beside her and completed his roll, the wrench on her wrist sent pain screaming up her arm. His momentum jerked her sideways, and she sprawled on the gravel like a rag doll.
He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and rolled toward the side of the road. Locked together, they tumbled over the embankment. She instinctively tucked her face into his shoulder, and his wide palm cradled and protected the back of her head. Rocks jabbed her spine, and sticks and coarse weeds tore at her bare skin.
Finally, blessedly, they stopped moving.
Breathing rapidly, Aidan rose on his elbow above her, his face etched with concern. “Are you all right?”
Her body shrieked in pain. She must have scraped off ninety percent of her skin, and her muscles throbbed like someone had beaten the holy heck out of her with a baseball bat. He probably felt twice as bad. Nobody had sheltered his body, and he’d taken the brunt of the blows. “Yes. You?”
“Locked and loaded.” He surged to his feet, yanking her upright. “Let’s move.”
Dizzy, she swayed, blinked. A formidable expanse of open field loomed in the stark moonlight. But densely grouped trees at the far end promised cover for the hunted. She gulped. First, they had to make it across the wide expanse of no-man’s land.
She glanced to her left, relieved to see red taillights streaking away from them. “The kidnappers didn’t notice.”
“Let’s make tracks before they do.” He broke into a sprint.
She barely had time to hike up her dress. Staggering, she scrambled through the hillocky pasture spiked with potholes.
Twice, she fell to her knees, and Aidan hauled her to her feet. “C’mon, Zoe. Move!”
Her breath sawed in her lungs, hot and jagged. “I jog every morning, but not in three-inch-heels and a fitted gown, SWAT.”
“I know it’s tough.” He jerked his thumb backward. “But consider the alternative.”
She dug her fingers into his tux sleeve for a better grip as they ran. “Who are they, and what do they want?”
“Think about it, Brenda Starr.” He tossed her a wry glance. “Whose cage have you rattled recently?”
Appalling realization dawned. “Someone connected to DiMarco’s operation.” Probably the mysterious someone ruthlessly liquidating the crippled man’s assets.
“Bingo. Give the lady an exclusive byline.” He leapt over a log, dragging her with him. “And they’re likely to shoot first and find reasons later.”
Halfway across the field, she looked over her shoulder and her stomach pitched in terror. “The taillights have stopped! They’re backing up!”
“I saw.” He cursed under his breath and towed her faster. “Run like your life depends on it.”
His long legs raced through the knee-high grass. No way could she keep up. He thrust an arm around her waist, half carrying her over the rugged terrain.
Approaching the shadowed tree line, her feet involuntarily slowed. In spite of her mental command to move, her body dragged against Aidan’s momentum. The unrelenting darkness ahead spiked her terror as high as the pursuers behind.
He tightened his hold on her. “There’s nowhere else to go.”
“I know.” She risked another glance over her shoulder. The car had stopped close to where she and Aidan had escaped. Five swearing men plunged over the embankment. Moonlight glinted off the pistols gripped in their hands.
“Trust me, Zoe.” Aidan propelled her between heavy branches and into the gloom. “I’ll take care of you.”
“I trust you.” With everything she had and everything she was. Nevertheless, fear squeezed her heart, stealing her breath. Now was not the time or place, but as soon as possible, she was going to indulge in a panic attack. A girl could only have her phobia shoved in her face for so long before she broke.
The woods forced a slower pace. Spiked pine boughs slapped their faces. Evergreens towered in the black void, angry sentinels protecting the forest. As Zoe and Aidan wove and dodged, tangled undergrowth tripped their fleeing footsteps. Was the landscape on the bad guys’ side?
The shouts behind them grew louder, and Zoe’s burning muscles trembled. “They’re gaining on us.”
Without warning, two gunshots blew apart the quiet night, and a tree limb exploded inches from Aidan’s head.
Horror made her clumsy, and she stumbled. “That shot nearly hit you!”
Aidan kept her on her feet. His stride didn’t falter as he casually shook bark out of his hair. “Ya think?”
A surprised, strangled laugh choked out of her, pushing back the worst fear. The close call hadn’t rattled him one iota. His un-shakable confidence was inspiring. “I guess that cool head under fire keeps you alive,” she panted.
He glanced at her. Fierce determination stamped his handsome features. “It’s gonna keep you alive, too.”
Her cop had a protective streak a mile wide. Probably from being the oldest son. If they made it out sans bullet holes, she owed him one. Or six. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this because of me.”
He veered to the right, towing her in his wake. “Be glad I’m here. Those guys got more than they bargained for.”
“My guardian angel.” She was only half kidding. Without him, who knew what tortures she would have faced?
He slanted her a roguish grin. “Just call me St. Aidan.” His grin fled. “Duck!”
She dove under a low branch, and couldn’t help but return the smile. “Ha! That’ll be the day.”
“Bad form to malign the man who saves your hide.”
“You never know.” She pressed her hand to her ribs, attempting to ease a stabbing pain. “Maybe I’ll save yours.”
He snorted and swerved around a huge, menacing boulder. “The phrase ‘ice festival in hell’ springs to mind.” He lurched to a stop, teetering on the edge of a steep ravine. His gaze ricocheted right, then left.
Less than a hundred yards behind, their pursuers crashed through the bushes. Anoth
er volley of shots exploded. Aidan tugged her forward. “Follow me.”
Like she had a choice? He strode over the edge, and she clambered to keep up. Gravity hurtled them down the incline, and her feet only intermittently touched ground as she skidded and bumped down the steep hill. Her wrist smarted like the devil from being dragged in Aidan’s unstoppable wake. If the handcuffs were longer, he’d be flying her behind him like a kite.
At the bottom, she nearly collided with a broad tree trunk. He jerked her out of the way in the nick of time. Who was she kidding? Every molecule in her body hurt like the devil. She’d be head-to-toe bruises tomorrow. If she lived to count them. “Whoa!” She dug in her heels. I can’t…breathe!”
He urged her onward. “If we stop now, you won’t have to worry about breathing.”
She groaned and valiantly tried to keep up. Didn’t Mr. Invincible ever run out of steam?
She stumbled along behind him on the banks of a chattering creek. The rocky obstacle course stubbed her toes and wrenched her ankles in the high heels. Better step carefully. Wouldn’t do to sprain an ankle like a dimwit heroine in a horror movie. A sprained ankle could mean their deaths. The thought had barely registered when she tripped and fell hard, yanking Aidan down.
He pushed to his knees. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she wheezed. “But…I need…a minute.”
Gunshots whistled over the ravine, pinged on rocks overhead. Could their pursuers see them, or were they firing at random? A shower of gravel rained down. “No time.” He grimaced. “We have a three-, maybe four-minute lead.”
She struggled to her knees and repositioned her bag on one shoulder. Tangled vines and bushes trailed over the ravine, cupping the embankment in front of her like giant, lanky fingers. A thick, earthy smell wafted out.
Aidan sniffed. “Hmm.” He edged the vine-laden branches aside. “Perfect.”
Slowly, she raised her gaze and saw a crack in the hillside. Perfect for what? Oh no. He couldn’t mean what she thought. Cold trepidation prickled along her skin.
