Abducted (Unlikely Heroes Book 2)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Lucky barked from the living room, then bounded into Max, leaping up and down.

  Another crack! sounded from outside, farther off than the first. Jennie’s gaze locked on his.

  “He’s leaving,” she whispered. “Or chasing something.” Her eyes filled with worry.

  Max grabbed the pistol off the countertop where he’d set it earlier. Taking a deep breath, he flicked on the porch light and yanked open the back door.

  Lucky raced out before Max could stop him.

  Damn dog!

  The sound of an engine running floated across the dark forest. Max caught a glimpse of headlights racing along the river’s edge. Whoever it was, he was leaving. Too far away to chase now.

  Jennie gasped from behind him. He looked away from the fading lights to where she pointed at something Lucky was sniffing in the yard.

  Her eyes went wide. A hand flew to her mouth. “Is that…Gray?”

  Lucky nuzzled something big and dark that was laying in the snow. It looked like a wolf. Bright red blood pooled around it.

  Shit!

  “Stay here, Jennie. And dammit, listen to me this time.”

  He shoved on his boots, stuffed his arms in his coat. Then he ran toward the thing laying in the yard. Jennie raced past him, swooping down to lean over it. Lucky whined.

  Max swore.

  He followed her, bending beside the body of a large gray wolf. The animal was dead. It had been shot in the chest.

  “It’s not Gray,” he said gently, taking Jennie’s arm. “It must be her new friend.”

  Jennie’s gaze flew to his. “Then where’s Gray?”

  A soft whine came from behind them. Max spun around. Gray hobbled forward, her eyes wild, her fangs smeared with blood.

  Jennie raced to the wolf’s side and dropped beside her in the snow.

  “Are you okay, Gray?” Jennie gently stroked the animal’s face. Rubbed her ears, checked her body for injuries.

  “Let’s get her inside,” Max said, placing a hand on Jennie’s shoulder. “It’s not safe out here. That guy could come back.”

  Jennie rose reluctantly and headed for the house. “Come on, Gray,” she called, turning back to the wolf. “Let’s go inside.”

  They stopped on the porch and waited. Gray hesitated, glanced back at the body of the other wolf. She whined.

  “I’m sorry, Gray,” Jennie whispered. “Max can’t bring your friend back.”

  The wolf tipped her head back and let out a long, mournful howl, the sound eerie in the silent forest. Max’s spine tingled. He grabbed Jennie’s arm and dragged her toward the door.

  “Let’s go. Give her time to mourn the loss of her friend. I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”

  Jennie’s eyes filled with tears. Max cupped her cheek in his hand, tilted her face up to his. Jennie nodded.

  He opened the back door. He whistled to Lucky.

  The dog scrambled up onto the porch, racing past Jennie into the house.

  When Max glanced back at Gray, the wolf had vanished into the night.

  * * *

  A door slammed from somewhere above. Uneven footsteps thumped across the floor. Emily cringed back against the wall. Crap, he was back. She sensed something was wrong by his uneven gate. Whatever he’d just done, whatever had just happened, he would take it out on her.

  Be brave, Emily. No matter what happens, don’t let him break you.

  Without Jennie there to help boost her confidence, she was on her own. But Emily had discovered an unexpected strength in the days since Jennie had escaped. She was stronger than she thought. Terror still gripped her whenever her captor came into the room. But now she vowed she would survive this bastard. She would escape.

  The stairway door flew open. Muttered cursing followed. The light clicked on, momentarily blinding her.

  “Emily!” he screamed. He slowly descended the stairs. Emily’s heart kicked into gear, ramming into her chest. He was pissed.

  Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.

  He hissed out a breath with each step until he finally reached the bottom.

  Emily stared at him in disbelief. His clothes were torn, shredded in some places, and blood oozed from wounds on his legs, arms, hands…

  His eyes were wild as he limped across the room. The hood was skewed to the side, revealing a section of his lower jaw. A lock of black hair peeked out of his right eyehole just above his eye, as if trying to escape the hood.

  He stumbled across the room and slumped down on her bed next to her, breathing heavily. Emily leaned away from him, her eyes wide, her heart hammering erratically. He reached for the shackle and unlocked her wrist, freeing her. She snatched her arm against her chest, rubbing her sore wrist.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I’m injured bad, Emily. I need your help. Fucking wolves tore me up.”

  Emily swallowed, stared into his mean gaze.

  She smothered a gasp.

  He stared back at her with one black eye and one…green.

  Her head spun.

  What the heck?

  He’d always had black eyes, mean black eyes. Now he had one green eye?

  She jerked her gaze away as her pulse quickened. Was he wearing colored contacts? Had he been wearing them all along? She’d always believed she somehow knew him, but could never quite place him. Had he been hiding his true identity all this time? That feeling that she knew him increased. Were his eyes really green, not black?

  She stared at the lock of black hair jutting out of the eyehole. Was his hair really black or was it a different color too? Who was he?

  Something must have happened out there, something that made a contact dislodge from his eye. He’d said something about wolves. What wolves? Was he talking about Gray?

  Emily trembled. She forced herself to look at him again. Into his eyes.

  One black and one green.

  Emily tried not to stare. He probably had no idea he’d dislodged a contact. He’d freak out if he discovered he’d lost part of his disguise.

  Part of his disguise.

  He was hiding his true identity from her. Had been all along.

  “Help me up,” he said, grabbing her arm and leaning into her. He was heavy. Emily almost tipped over from his weight.

  She pushed herself up from the bed and tried to pull him up with her. With a groan, he rose, leaning heavily on her. She helped him toward the stairs.

  Her mind spun. After she helped clean his wounds, maybe she could try to escape.

  The thought terrified her.

  It took a long time to get him up the stairs. He grunted and groaned, hissed and moaned the entire way. Emily hoped his wounds hurt really bad. He deserved whatever had happened to him.

  She deposited him on the edge of his bed and went to retrieve the medical kit from the bathroom. He lay back, panting, his eyes wild with pain. Emily had never seen him like this before, so…vulnerable.

  If she was smart, she’d take advantage of his temporary weakness and try to escape.

  If she was smart…

  But Emily wasn’t smart. If she’d been smart, she never would have been kidnapped in the first place.

  I am smart. I am. I’m going to escape.

  She kept telling herself that as she cleaned the first wound, dabbing alcohol on a nasty bite on his calf. The wound was deep, the flesh torn. He needed stitches. He hissed in a breath and clenched the blanket beneath him. She dumped more alcohol on the wound.

  He screamed, his hand flying out to slap her across the face. Emily gasped. The bottle of alcohol flew from her hand, splashing on the floor and spilling all over the bedroom carpet.

  Then, to her surprise, his eyes rolled back into his head.

  He lay still.

  Emily stared at him, confused. Had he passed out? Too much blood loss? Too much pain?

  Run, Emily! Get the heck out of here now!

  She stood frozen to the spot, unsure what to do.

  Run, you fool! Now’s your chance to esc
ape!

  She took a step back, her gaze never wavering from his closed eyes that were visible through the eye slots of the hood.

  Another step.

  Then another.

  She reached the doorway to the bedroom. He still hadn’t moved.

  Then his finger twitched. He moaned. His eyes opened.

  Emily turned and bolted.

  She had no idea where she was going.

  All she knew was she was running for her life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Emily!”

  Emily halted, her heart slamming into her ribs. She slowly turned around.

  He pushed himself up into a sitting position, reaching toward her.

  “Where you going? I need you to clean the wounds. I need you to take care of me.”

  She hesitated, unable to look away from his creepy eyes: one black, one green.

  “I, uh, dropped the alcohol all over the floor. I was going to get a towel to clean it up.”

  “Hurry up,” he said. “I’m bleeding. It hurts.”

  She turned from the room, unsure what to do.

  I’m bleeding. It hurts.

  “Hurry!” he bellowed.

  She turned toward the bathroom.

  Why aren’t you running, you fool? Get the heck out of here why you still can! Run!

  Emily stopped in the hallway, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “Emily! Help me!” His voice sounded strained.

  Run, Emily! What you waiting for?

  A scream tried to erupt from her throat. She forced it back down, cursing her weakness. She must have inherited her father’s kindness toward all creatures, because she couldn’t walk away from an injured creature, even one who had abused her. Stalking into the bathroom, she snagged a towel from the rack, and stormed back into the bedroom. She wanted to stuff the rag down his throat and strangle him. Instead, she just looked at him. He was lying back on the bed, moaning with pain. Weak. Pathetic. Vulnerable. He opened an eye, the green one, and looked up at her.

  “Please Emily,” he whimpered. “Help me.”

  She pulled her gaze away, spying the alcohol bottle on the floor near her foot. She bent and picked it up. It was still about half full.

  “Lay still,” she said shakily. “This is going to hurt.”

  His hand snaked out, wrapping around her wrist. “Thank you, Emily. You’re a good girl.”

  Ignoring him, Emily lowered her gaze. She would not be swayed by his gratitude. She knew what he would do to her when he was well.

  She finished cleaning the nasty wound on his calf, then wrapped gauze around it and taped it closed. She moved on to the next injury, a puncture wound near his ankle. She cleaned it, ignoring his groans when she dumped alcohol on it. She bandaged it up and turned to the ones on his arms, then a horrific one on his right hand. The flesh had been torn off, revealing bones and tendons. His pinky finger dangled by a thread. Bile threatened its way up her throat. She was positive he would lose the finger, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She just cleaned it like she did the others, barely resisting the urge to yank on that pinkie and cause him more pain. It wouldn’t take much to pull that finger the rest of the way off. He’d probably pass out from the pain. Yet, despite what he’d done to her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  He watched her closely as she administered the rest of his wounds, cleaning them one at a time, and bandaging them up. At last she finished and stepped back.

  He snagged her arm.

  “Come here. Lay with me. I’m cold.”

  Her heart pounded. She was a fool. She should have escaped when she had a chance, when he was incapacitated. Instead she’d helped him. There would be no escaping him now.

  He pulled her down onto the bed next to him. Emily didn’t fight. She lay down beside him and didn’t protest when he put an arm around her, anchoring her against his side.

  “Thanks for saving me, Emily. I’ll reward you in the morning. You’re a good girl.”

  She lay still until his breathing gradually deepened. Until she was positive he’d fallen asleep.

  Then slowly, cautiously, she slipped out of his arms and slid off the bed. She glanced back at him, saw that the hood had slipped up past his chin, revealing what looked like strawberry blond beard stubble.

  Her heart stopped.

  She stared.

  Indeed, the beard stubble on his chin wasn’t black, but strawberry blond.

  She took a wary step back. Then another.

  He was wearing a disguise. The black contacts. The black hair…

  She needed to get out of here. Now. Before he woke.

  If she was going to escape, this would be her last chance.

  He groaned in his sleep, his hand coming up to rub his face. Emily stared as the hood moved up, his mouth came into view, then his cheek...

  She gasped, stumbling backward.

  She knew that mouth, that cheekbone, that strawberry blond beard stubble, those green eyes…

  Oh my gosh!

  Her breaths came faster and faster.

  Her head started to spin.

  His arm moved across the bed, feeling for her.

  His eyes opened.

  He rolled over. The hood slipped farther up, revealing the entire left side of his face. His gaze searched for her, then found and settled on her where she stood by the bed. She couldn’t take her eyes off his face.

  His familiar face.

  No! It can’t be.

  Bile threatened its way up her throat. When she thought of what he’d done to her…

  Emily lurched forward and retched all over the floor. Again and again. Until there was nothing left in her stomach.

  Dizziness swam in her head. Her arms shook. Her legs trembled as she slowly rose to her feet. All she could think was why?

  He watched her cautiously as he sat up on the bed. He straightened the hood with his left hand, the uninjured one, covering his face again.

  She took a wary step back. “You…”

  “Emily,” he began, reaching toward her. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew she’d figured out who he was.

  “You…” she tried again. But she couldn’t get more than that one word to come out of her mouth. She took another step back.

  “Emily.” He slid off the bed with a groan. He slowly stood. Then he stepped toward her.

  Emily spun on her heel and raced for the hallway.

  “Emily!”

  She heard him behind her, chasing her. He groaned with each step.

  She reached the kitchen and hesitated, unsure which direction to run. She saw a door to the left of the kitchen. It looked like it lead out to a garage.

  He lunged at her, tackling her from behind. Emily cried out as she fell forward, her head cracking into the kitchen table.

  Pain ricocheted through her skull.

  She saw stars.

  Then everything went black.

  * * *

  Max ran a hand over his face. He let out a loud sigh after the door closed behind them. He glanced at Jennie.

  “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since I found you out in that car.” He spoke quietly, his expression so deadpan that Jennie wasn’t sure if was angry or just stating a fact. She stepped toward him hesitantly.

  “I’m sorry.” She needed to tell him the truth now. Tell him that she remembered everything. That she’d left Emily behind. But she didn’t know how to start. Or how he would react.

  “Let’s go sit down,” she said gently, stopping in front of him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  A wary expression entered his eyes.

  Crap. She didn’t want him distancing himself from her again. Not after what they’d shared. Though he hadn’t yet told her, Jennie knew he was falling in love with her. A man as guarded as Max didn’t love easily, didn’t make himself vulnerable unless he felt something for the woman in his arms. And she’d felt his complete surrender just hours ago when he’d taken her into h
is bed. Their lovemaking had been different than before. This time he hadn’t held anything back. She’d felt the emotion in his touch, in his kisses. She’d sensed he’d given himself over to her completely.

  And that it hadn’t been easy for him to do.

  But he still had some walls she needed to knock down. Being honest with him about everything was the best way to get him to let down his guard completely. To talk to her. To trust her. To tell her whatever secrets he was so afraid to disclose.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. He hesitated. Then his arms came around her and he squeezed her against him, burying his face in her hair. Jennie held on to him tightly, relieved he hadn’t pushed her away.

  “We have to find Emily,” he said, his words desperate. “I’m going out of my mind.”

  “I know,” she whispered. He’d just given her the opening she needed. She cleared her throat and stepped back, looking into his eyes.

  “That dream I just had,” she began quietly. “It wasn’t a dream. It was real.” She waited a beat as he looked at her. “I remembered everything, Max.” She held her breath as she waited for his reaction.

  A myriad of emotions crossed his face: relief, worry, fear…

  He swallowed. “Is Emily…”

  “She’s alive,” Jennie whispered. “She’s a brave girl, Max.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a deep breath. “How…” He cleared his throat. “How did you end up in my car? What happened?”

  Jennie took his hand. “Let’s go sit down. I have a lot to tell you.” She tried not to think about how he might react when she told him she’d abandoned Emily. She could only hope he wouldn’t hate her.

  They sat on the living room couch. Max turned to her, waiting. He looked…expectant, worried.

  Jennie cleared her throat, then started at the very beginning. “My father and I had an argument the night I was abducted. We’d just gotten back from a show I’d done in Seattle. I told him I couldn’t deceive people anymore, that I wanted to quit, that it was wrong. He got upset with me, said I should take advantage of my gift and use it any way I could. That I already had thousands of fans and I could have so many more, I could make so much more, be even bigger than I was…” Now that she remembered what they’d argued about, she understood why she’d been angry at her father. Her dad wasn’t a bad person, just…an opportunist.