A challenge. But doable.
* * *
What could she do? Erin squeezed the door handle and weighed her options. Jumping out of the car at highway speed would be suicide. But when they left the interstate, if they stopped for a traffic light…
She rubbed her palm on the leg of her jeans, over her belly. She had to be careful. Couldn’t take unnecessary risks.
But she refused to let these men harm her, kidnap her without even a token resistance. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.
She thought of Alec Kincaid, the selfish bastard, walking out on her, leaving her to fend for her life. Alone. She was in this mess because of his stupid letter! She worked up a good mad and funneled the energy toward planning her escape. They had to get off the interstate sometime. And when they did…
A car behind them honked, and she absently turned her attention to the passenger-side mirror. An idea niggled. Maybe she could signal someone in another car… .
She glanced sideways to the knife-wielding maniac who rode beside her and nixed that thought. She couldn’t tip her hand. When she acted, she had to catch the men totally off guard.
She returned her gaze to the side mirror with a wistful glance. If only—
Erin sat straighter in the seat and narrowed her gazed in disbelief. A man was on top of the eighteen-wheeler behind them!
What kind of idiot—?
Her breath caught, and she blinked to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
No trick. It was Alec.
Her heart, responding to Alec’s daring with a drumroll, rose to her throat. She stifled the gasp that threatened, determined not to give Alec’s presence away to Mr. Knife and his buddy. Her gaze riveted to the SUV’s side mirror. Her fingernails cut into her palms.
Horrified, she watched Alec inch along the roof of the truck’s trailer. He crouched low, adjusted his arms for balance.
Dear God! What was he planning?
An image of Bradley’s broken body flashed in Erin’s mind, and her stomach rolled. Alec was coming to help her. Like Bradley had been. Putting himself in danger. Risking his life. Taking foolish chances. For her.
The bitter taste of fear filled her mouth, and Erin swallowed a moan. Not again.
“You say something, sweetheart?”
Erin jerked her head around to face Knife. “N-no.”
“Take it easy, darlin’,” Knife said with a sadistic leer. “Soon as we get that letter back from Kincaid, you’ll be free to go.”
The man driving grunted. “For a swim with the fishies maybe.”
Knife laughed and gave Erin a salacious wink. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of ya.”
A shudder raced down her spine. She worked to form enough spit to swallow the knot in her throat as she swung her gaze back to the mirror. The truck was closer. Alec perched on the edge of the trailer, crouching. Springing.
Erin gasped, but the sound was lost as Alec landed with a thump on the roof of the SUV.
“What the hell was that?” the driver barked.
Trembling all over, Erin held her breath.
Knife angled his head, looking up. “Something hit the roof.”
Suddenly the window beside Knife shattered. Erin jolted as glass shards blasted across the seat.
“What the—!” The SUV swerved as the startled driver twisted toward the smashed window.
“It’s Kincaid!” Knife brushed broken glass off his shirt and surged forward to shout to his cohort. “He’s on the roof! Shake him!”
Erin gripped the edge of the seat as their driver snatched the steering wheel hard to the left then right again. Alec’s legs slid off the passenger side of the roof, scrambling to find purchase.
Panic roiled inside her. “No!”
The driver yanked the steering wheel again. Alec slipped farther down the side of the SUV. He needed help. Her help.
Snatching off her seat belt, Erin lunged for the front seat, the driver, the steering wheel.
“Hey, get back here!” Knife grabbed the back of her shirt. She fought like a wildcat to grab the wheel, steady the SUV.
Erin heard a thump, a smack. When Knife’s hold on her suddenly fell away, she darted a glance over her shoulder.
Alec hung over the other side of the car now. He reached in through the broken window to land a punch in Knife’s jaw.
Knife’s eyes rolled back. Before the man could even slump all the way to the seat, Alec slid, feet first, through the broken window.
“Manny?” the driver called as he checked the rearview mirror.
“Manny’s taking a nap,” her rescuer said.
“Alec!” Relief swamped her so hard and fast she nearly choked on the tears.
But her relief came too soon. The driver raised an arm, turned, and leveled a gun at her.
She saw the flash from the muzzle in the same instant the ear-shattering blast rang in her ears. She screamed and curled forward to protect her abdomen.
More glass rained on her as the passenger-side window shattered.
“Get up!” Alec shouted.
She glanced up and realized the command was directed to her. He struggled to restrain the driver, keep the thug from shooting again and steer the SUV at the same time. She met Alec’s blazing blue gaze, and instant admiration stole her breath.
He hitched his head toward the front seat. “Hurry! Grab the wheel!”
Erin scrambled to suit orders to action. Somehow Alec managed to hold the SUV in one lane. But as the thug struggled with Alec, the man’s foot moved on and off the accelerator making the SUV jerk, lunge and stall. They drifted toward the next lane and swapped paint with a school bus. Alec cursed.
Heart thundering, Erin clambered into the front seat, wedged her left foot over to the accelerator pedal and wrapped her hands around the steering wheel.
Freed of needing to steady the vehicle, Alec squeezed the driver’s throat, held him immobile until the man went limp.
Erin gawked and leaned out of the way as Alec dragged the man’s body into the back seat. “Is he dead?”
“No. I want these jokers alive to answer questions.”
Erin slid into the driver’s seat and brought the SUV under control.
“You okay?” Alec asked.
“Depends. Define okay.” She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “If I were shaking any harder, my t-teeth would rattle, and I feel like I m-might throw up, but…I’m not hurt. Does that count?”
“Can you drive for a while?” His face was hard, his gaze razor sharp.
She nodded.
“Good enough for me.” He situated the thugs on the back seat, tying their hands with the seat belt. “Take the next exit, but don’t stop. Drive until you find a place that has some privacy.”
“O-okay.” Erin flipped on her turn signal and changed lanes, heading for the exit he indicated.
Alec climbed into the front seat beside her and raised his shirt to pull out the envelope tucked in the waist of his jeans. He heaved a relieved-sounding sigh and closed his eyes.
Crisis averted. Thanks to Alec’s heroics. Erin exhaled her own relieved sigh, but her hands still trembled. She cast a sideways glance at Alec, and for a moment, she simply savored the sight of his black, windblown hair, the stark bone structure of his brow and jaw, the full cut of his mouth.
When they’d been hauling boxes last week, she’d been transfixed by his taut, muscular frame, by his intensely blue eyes. But it seemed this man’s face was perhaps the most striking, the most interesting of his features. Without being classically handsome, he had a rugged sort of appeal. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth and opened his eyes. She followed his lowered gaze to the envelope in his lap.
She scowled. “That dumb letter must be awfully important.”
He cut her a sideways glance. “It is to me.”
Harsh lines bracketed his mouth, his eyes, and spoke of hard living. A thin, pale scar on his cheek evidenced a past injury. Alec
Kincaid was clearly no stranger to a dangerous lifestyle.
Her annoyance cooled when she realized the lengths to which he’d gone to rescue her. He was either the craziest man on the planet or the bravest. She’d wager on the latter.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For helping me. Saving me.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he turned to stare out the side window, his face an emotionless mask. Finally he slanted a hooded look at her and grunted. “Your gratitude may be premature.”
Chapter 2
Following Alec’s directions, Erin pulled the SUV behind a self-storage building and cut the engine. She cast him a wary gaze across the front seat. “Now what?”
Alec scanned the area with predatory eyes. “I’m going to have a little talk with these cretins. I need to find out who they are and who sent them.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Still shivering from cold and fear, Erin chafed her arms. The action drew Alec’s attention and a dark frown.
“No police.”
“What?” Erin blinked her shock. “They broke into my house, held me at knifepoint, kidnapped me, threatened to kill me… . You better believe I’m calling the cops!”
His expression grew flinty. “No. I’ll handle this.”
“Why? Are you FBI or something?”
“Or something.” Alec climbed out of the SUV and opened the back door. He checked the two unconscious men, then used the knife the first man had held at her throat to slice through the seat belt. With amazing ease and his impressive muscles taut, Alec hoisted the unconscious driver over his shoulder and carried him to the side of the self-storage building.
A funny catch lodged in Erin’s chest as she watched Alec pat the thug down, ostensibly checking for other weapons, then return to the SUV. He’d saved her life. For that, she figured she owed him the benefit of the doubt, even if the notion of not reporting this terrifying incident to the police galled her. She glanced at the letter sitting on the console between the front seats. What was so darned important about that letter that men were willing to kill for it?
Alec ducked his head in the back seat again and sawed on the strap securing the second man.
“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked. “Just go back home and pretend nothing happened?”
Alec’s hands stilled, and he glanced up at her, his mouth set in a grim line.
Erin wondered if Alec ever smiled, wondered about the life he led that kept his expression so hard and humorless. Wondered how a smile would transform his stony features.
“Once I get this guy out, I want you to dump this vehicle somewhere, then walk about a mile before you call a cab. Don’t go back to your house. They know you live there, and you’d be an easy mark.”
Erin pressed a hand to her stomach as anxiety fueled the wave of nausea that swamped her. “And why would they come back for me? I thought it was you and this Daniel LeCroix person’s letter that they were after.”
He sighed, and the muscles in his jaw jumped. “Because I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
He grunted and continued his work. “I came back for you. Rescued you from them.”
She scoffed. “You see that as a mistake?”
“Now they believe I care whether you live or die. They’ll see you as a way to get to me.”
Dread settled in her chest like a rock.
“Do you have a friend or relative you can stay with for a while?”
A hollow ache plucked at her. Loneliness. Grief. And guilt, her constant companion of late. “No. My parents are dead, and I just moved into town last week.”
He scowled. “Then go to a hotel. And be careful. Keep your door locked and don’t talk to anyone.”
“But—” Before she had a chance to voice her complaint, the scuffle of feet drew Alec’s attention to the side of the storage building. The SUV driver had regained consciousness. Hands still bound by the seat belt, the groggy man stumbled to his feet. And ran.
“Damn!” Alec snatched his gun from his waistband and foisted it toward her. “Watch this guy. If he so much as blinks, shoot him!”
Spinning away, Alec sprinted after the fleeing driver. Erin gaped at Alec’s retreating back then down at the weapon he’d shoved in her hands. Shoot Mr. Knife? Even if her own life were at stake, she wasn’t sure she could ever pull the trigger, kill another human being.
Her stomach swirled, and she wished she had some crackers to settle the queasiness. She’d moved to Colorado hoping to build a new life, to escape the turmoil and tragedy that had plagued her the past two years. To heal, to make a fresh start, and to nurture Bradley’s last gift to her. But she’d only been in her new home a week, and already bad luck and danger had found her again. She had to be jinxed.
Hands shaking, she set the gun on the passenger’s seat, terrified her trembling hands would make the gun fire accidentally.
Her gaze darted to the letter—the root of this whole fiasco, the source of the danger she was in. She lifted the missive and held it to the sunlight, trying to see what was inside. Useless. The envelope paper was too thick.
It occurred to her that, like the driver, Knife could rouse, could surprise her, could overpower her. Could steal the letter and escape.
Then all of Alec’s efforts to hold on to the letter and rescue her would have been in vain. Mind spinning, Erin turned the letter over in her hand. Maybe she couldn’t bring herself to shoot Knife if needed, but she could do something to protect Daniel’s letter.
* * *
Grumbling to himself in disgust, Alec balled his hands as he stormed back to the storage units where he’d left Erin. He’d lost his prey in the maze of alleys, small homes and parked cars. Worse than that, he’d taken off after the cretin so fast, he’d left Daniel’s letter sitting on the front console of the SUV. While mapping out a plan to keep Erin safe, he’d allowed her fearful eyes, her rebellious pout to distract him. For a man who prided himself on perfection, today’s accumulating list of mistakes chafed.
He sidled up to the back wall of the storage building and peered around the corner to survey the scene at the SUV. If Erin had lost control of the situation, he didn’t want to walk into a confrontation unaware.
Erin paced back and forth behind the rear bumper. Her attention remained glued down the driveway, in the direction he’d pursued the driver. As she marched back and forth, she gnawed a thumbnail, then frowned at the chewed finger. A bulge at the small of her back told him where she’d stashed his SIG-Sauer.
He didn’t see the other thug, but that could mean the man was still slumped in the back seat.
A shadow shifted near the front fender, and Alec tensed. He pulled out the knife he’d been using to cut the seat belts and narrowed his gaze. Grass rustled by the driver’s-side tire.
Alec moved out, skulking toward the SUV with the knife ready. He’d only made it a few steps before cretin number two sprang from behind the vehicle.
The bastard lofted a thick branch and closed in on Erin.
“Erin, look out!” Alec shouted.
Too late. The heavy branch crashed down on her skull, and she crumpled to the ground. Alec’s gut lurched with a sickening dread.
As her assailant bolted down the driveway, he snatched something from the front pocket of her jeans. An envelope.
Alec cursed. Racing to Erin, he fished the SIG-Sauer out from under her shirt and darted down the drive after the escaping thief. He fired a shot as the man dashed around the corner of a clapboard house. Training told Alec to go after the fleeing suspect, but the woman lying, unmoving, in the dirt spoke to something deeper in Alec’s soul.
You left Daniel.
He stared at the spot where Erin’s assailant had disappeared another moment, a razor pain slicing through him when he thought of the lost letter, the danger Daniel could be in with his missive in the wrong hands.
Yet seeing Daniel’s handwriting had fired new hope in him that his partner was alive. Guilt and regret fueled his determi
nation to get his search back on track.
As soon as he was certain Erin was safe.
He’d be damned if he knew why this woman compelled him to break with procedure, to jeopardize his mission, to act counter to everything he’d been trained to do. The inconsistency needled him.
Rushing back down the driveway, he dropped to his knees beside the unconscious woman and felt for a pulse. He released a deep breath when he found a strong throbbing beat in her neck.
Pulling her into his lap, he carefully examined her head for the goose egg sure to be swelling on her scalp. Her feminine scent teased him, and her silky curls coiled seductively around his fingers. Her limp body, her slack face, her vulnerability speared to his core. He’d been trained to steel himself against softer emotions, sympathies that could jeopardize a mission and blur his professional focus. But something about this woman slipped under his defenses and burrowed deep inside him.
Wincing, Erin jerked and raised a hand to the spot on her head where he probed. “Ow.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. With a gasp, she tried to sit up, but he caught her shoulders and eased her back to his lap. “Easy. You took a nasty blow. Go slow.”
Her puppy-dog eyes turned up to his face. “Alec?”
So she could talk and her short-term memory was intact. Both good signs. He focused on her pupils rather than the sexy sweetness of her mahogany eyes. Even. No abnormal dilation.
“Are you dizzy? Numb anywhere?” he asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her head. “I… No. My head hurts like fire, though. What happened?”
“Your charge cracked a limb over your head.” He was prepared to chastise her for her inattention to her prisoner, but she moaned in misery as she sat up.
“Knife! Where’d he—” She whipped her head around, apparently looking for the thug, then yelped and cradled her head again.
“I said go slow.” He slid a hand under her elbow to steady her. “And your man got away after he whacked you.”
“Sorry.” She grimaced, and her face paled as she clapped a hand to her jeans pocket. “It’s gone. The envelope—”
Soldier's Pregnancy Protocol Page 3
