Abducted (Unlikely Heroes Book 2)

by Leslie Georgeson

  She closed her eyes as shame washed over her. “I’m so ashamed now of what I did. Making people think I was training horses when in actuality, all I was doing was communicating telepathically with their horses, telling the horses to do what I said and I’d give them a treat or whatever. Of course, some of the horses were more difficult than others and I actually had to use natural horsemanship to get them to do what I wanted. But the majority of them were easy to work with and I deceived so many people.” Her face warmed. “I wasn’t a good person before, Max. I don’t like the person I used to be. But I’m not that person now. I’ll never be that person again. My past is over, done. I’m not going back to that. I can’t.”

  He looked into her eyes without speaking, his expression unreadable. Jennie couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.

  “Then what happened?” he asked quietly.

  She puffed out a breath. “My dad stormed into the house, said we’d talk about it later. I remember standing out there in the garage, thinking about how I’d deceived so many people, and wanting so badly to change, vowing to make things right…when the man in the hood appeared. He hit me over the head with something. The next thing I remember was laying on the ground somewhere. Then he picked me up and carried me inside his house.” She closed her eyes a moment as the memory flooded her. “And then I met Emily.”

  She paused to take another breath, looking into his eyes. Max’s expression remained impassive, but his eyes filled with…fear.

  Jennie cleared her throat. She had to word this next part delicately so she didn’t hurt Max too much. If he knew what that man had done to Emily…it would tear him apart.

  “He chained me to a bed in a dark basement. Emily was on the bed next to me. Gray was chained to the wall across the room. He told Emily he’d captured Jennie Jones. He bragged about it. He was proud of himself. Emily told him to let me go, that I hadn’t done anything to him. But he just laughed.”

  Jennie looked away for a moment. She reached for Max’s hand, squeezed. She read the question in his eyes. “He didn’t rape me, Max,” she said gently, wanting to reassure him. “He never touched me that way.” He only did that to Emily. But Jennie couldn’t tell Max that. It would kill him.

  Relief crossed his features. “He didn’t?”

  “No.” Thank God. “He just liked to abuse me. He’s a sadistic bastard. He had a leather belt he would beat me with, and he’d slap me around whenever he felt like it. A couple of times he took out his pocket knife and carved things in me.” She looked away, drew in another deep breath. “But I survived his abuse. I never gave up. I knew one day I would escape. And I did.”

  Max’s gaze searched hers, the questions in his eyes making her heart clench. What about Emily? Why didn’t you save her?

  “What did he do to Emily?” he asked hoarsely.

  Jennie lowered her gaze. How did she answer that? “I don’t know,” she whispered, which was partially true, for the man had always taken Emily upstairs with him. She’d never witnessed him abusing Emily. But when he brought Emily back, Emily was always more subdued than usual. Jennie didn’t have to ask to know what he’d done to her, but she couldn’t tell Max that.

  “He liked her better than me. He didn’t hurt her the way he hurt me.” Which was true. The man had been nicer to Emily than he’d been to Jennie, though she wouldn’t define any part of their confinement as “nice.” As far as Jennie knew, he’d never once stricken Emily in any way. At least not in her presence. And she’d never seen any bruises on Emily. He’d never tortured the girl the way he’d tortured Jennie. “I think he had a bit of a soft spot for her. In his own sick kind of way.”

  Max watched her, his gaze intense, as if he was trying to figure out whether or not she was telling him the truth. “You’re sure he didn’t hurt her?”

  Jennie sighed. She’d vowed to be honest with him. Did skirting around the truth amount to lying?

  “I never saw him physically abusing her, if that’s what you mean. He kept her chained to the wall, but he never hit her or slapped her like he did to me. He was always yelling at me, calling me names. Probably because I would egg him on, challenge him, and she never did. Emily’s a sweet girl.” Who never once defied him. Jennie hoped Emily’s sweetness would keep her alive long enough for them to find her and free her. Hoped with all heart the man didn’t hurt Emily any more than he already had.

  “So how did you escape?”

  Max’s voice brought her attention back to him.

  “Well, Emily and I didn’t have anything to do in that cold basement all day and all night except talk about how we would escape. I kept telling her to be strong, to not give up, that someday we’d get away.”

  Jennie took a deep breath. “Then one day, he came down the stairs with a metal pipe in his hand. I think he was going to beat me with it. Gray snarled at him and he threw the pipe at her. He accidentally slipped off the bottom step and fell within Gray’s reach. She attacked him, biting his arm. He was furious. He wanted me to fix his arm up for him. So he unchained me and started dragging me toward the stairs. I saw the pipe laying on the floor and realized it was my chance. So I lunged for it, grabbed it, and swung it at his head. But he ducked out of the way.”

  Jennie let out a disgusted snort, pausing as the horrifying memory slammed into her brain. “He grabbed my leg and started dragging me towards him. Then Gray picked up the pipe and tossed it to me. Can you believe that? The wolf gave me the pipe.” She let out a soft laugh.

  “I swung it at him a second time, hitting him on the head. I knocked him out this time and he fell back on the floor. I rushed to Gray’s side and freed her because I knew she could help me keep the man at bay while I tried to free Emily. The only problem was, I needed to get the key out of his front pocket to unlock the shackle from Emily’s wrist. But as soon as I freed Gray, the man woke up. And he had a gun.”

  She closed her eyes. She recalled the fury in the man’s black gaze as she relived that terrifying moment. She forced back a sob.

  “He lifted the gun and pointed it at me. Emily screamed ‘Run Jennie run!’ So I dove for the stairs. He shot at me. Bullets whizzed past. I stumbled up the stairs, thinking I wasn’t going to make it, that he was going to kill me.” She hitched in a breath, her gaze flying to Max’s. The look in his eyes was so intense she jerked her gaze away.

  “I heard him bounding up the stairs after me. I ran for the closest door, which ended up being the garage. I saw a green car parked there and raced towards it, hoping it would start. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the keys in the ignition. Gray jumped in the car with me. The man kept firing bullets at us. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and realized I’d been hit. Gray yelped and I saw she’d been struck too. I gunned the car, screeching out of the garage and down the driveway. I couldn’t tell where I was. It was snowing hard. The car kept fishtailing out of control. Then we went off the road and into the river.” Jennie sucked in a breath, closed her eyes.

  She’d left Emily behind.

  Jennie drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. She forced herself to meet his gaze.

  She prayed he would forgive her.

  “I’m sorry, Max.” Her bottom lip trembled. She bit it hard to keep from crying. “I never meant to leave Emily behind. I swear. Can you ever forgive me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  He stared at Emily’s unmoving form on the floor. Shit! Was she dead? Her head had made a loud cracking noise when it had struck the table. He didn’t want her to die, not like this. He bent slowly, groaning at the excruciating pain from his numerous bite wounds. He lifted her wrist, checking for a pulse.

  She was alive. Must have just knocked the hell out of herself. Relief swept through him. Good. He wasn’t ready to let Emily go yet. Wasn’t sure if he would ever be ready to let her go. He’d become way more attached to her than he’d anticipated.

  A captor was never supposed to care about his captive. He’d done just fine with Jennie. He couldn’t st
and the bitch. But Emily…

  He sighed.

  Emily wasn’t supposed to figure out who he was. That had not been part of the plan. This changed everything.

  He remembered the shock on her face, the sickness…when she’d realized who he was. She’d thrown up all over his bedroom floor.

  Something in his chest shifted. Squeezed. When he thought of what he’d done to her, it was no wonder she’d been shocked. Sickened…

  She’d idolized him for as long as he could remember. It had turned into a teenage crush that he’d taken advantage of right before he’d abducted her. He’d seen her out on the road that night and stopped to talk to her. What was she doing out at midnight? Her car was out of gas. Frustrated tears had streamed down her cheeks. He’d given her a ride to the gas station for fuel. She’d trusted him, even though Max hadn’t, even though he was pretty sure Max had warned her away from him. It had been easy to abduct her. She’d confided that her dad wouldn’t let her hang out with some new friends, so she’d snuck out and stolen the car. She had no clue he’d slipped Rohypnol in the Coke he’d given her. She probably didn’t even remember him finding her out on the road. Naïve, innocent, trusting Emily…She should have listened to her father.

  He stared at the tangled brown hair that covered her face. He brushed it off her cheek. Such a pretty thing…

  He’d been careless, letting her see his face like that. If he hadn’t been so nauseated by the sight of his own blood, he wouldn’t have taken her upstairs with him in the first place. But he had that one weakness he couldn’t overcome: blood, even small wounds, on his own body made him queasy. Sometimes even made him pass out. It didn’t bother him to see injuries on other people, just himself. He’d enjoyed inflicting wounds on Jennie. But because of his weakness, he’d needed Emily to tend his wounds. There was no way he would have been able to do it himself.

  And now she knew who he was.

  He hissed out a breath.

  He’d never wanted to hurt sweet little Emily. She’d been nothing but a means to an end. A way to torture Max. Originally he hadn’t planned on keeping her this long. He hadn’t planned on even touching her. But she was so pretty. He hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d waited until she was sixteen before he touched her the first time. He’d convinced himself she was old enough then. Even though he’d known it was wrong. And even though she was eighteen now, she was still young enough to be his child.

  He would have to kill Emily now, even though the thought pained him. There was no way around it. This changed everything. She wasn’t supposed to figure out who he was. His “grand plan” wasn’t so grand anymore.

  With a resigned sigh, he snared her ankle. He rose to his feet. One slow step at a time, he dragged her back down the hallway. He was too weak to haul her back down to the basement, so he’d have to tie her to his bed. Then she’d be close by until he healed enough to take her back downstairs.

  He wasn’t looking forward to her reaction when she woke. When she remembered…

  Regret clenched at his chest.

  Regret that he’d had to hurt sweet, innocent Emily like this.

  Regret that he would now have to kill the only good thing in his life.

  * * *

  Max didn’t say anything. Just stared at Jennie, his eyes bleak, filled with torment. Jennie held her breath as she waited, fearing the worst. Fearing he’d toss her out now.

  Finally he looked away, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. He heaved out a sigh.

  Her heart pounded. She had to say something to break the silence. “I…” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Tried again. “I didn’t mean to leave her behind, Max.”

  He dragged his hand away from his face, his gaze seeking hers. “I know. It wasn’t your fault. God, Jennie, he almost killed you. You did everything you could. I can’t blame you for saving yourself. If you hadn’t run when you had, you’d be dead.”

  Jennie wished he’d pull her into his arms, show her he truly didn’t blame her. But he didn’t touch her. He stared across the room, the anguish on his face cutting her deep. He wouldn’t share his pain with her. Instead, he was keeping his distance. Shutting her out. Did he still not trust her after all they’d gone through?

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Jennie followed his gaze.

  5:30 a.m.

  There was no way they’d be getting anymore sleep tonight.

  “We need to call the sheriff,” he said quietly. “And Agent Miller. Let them know you remember everything now. Tell them about the gunshots we heard outside, about the man fleeing on a snowmobile. They’ll have lots of questions for you.”

  He rose from the couch and strode from the room. Jennie remained where she was. She heard his voice as he spoke into the phone from the den. Then silence.

  She looked up when he came back into the room.

  “The dispatch lady said she’d relay the message, but she didn’t know how long it would take them to get out here.” He watched her for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing her face. “Do you remember where you escaped from? What the house looked like?”

  Jennie closed her eyes. “Not really. It was snowing. I don’t remember anything about the outside of the house, except that it had a circular driveway. I remember the long concrete stairs going down into the basement. And a small country kitchen. I think it had a single car garage, because the car filled it up.” She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “We can probably eliminate the houses that don’t have single car garages. Or ones that don’t have circular driveways. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will only be one.”

  He gave a quick nod of his head, a gleam entering his eyes. “That’s good. It’s something anyway. I say we go now when he’s least expecting it. Catch him off guard. While it’s dark out. We don’t have time to wait for the cops. I can’t sit around here doing nothing when I can be trying to find her.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “We should have already been searching for her. We shouldn’t have waited so long.”

  “The cops already checked every house on the other side of the river,” Jennie said gently. “They didn’t find anything.”

  “Yeah, but they can’t enter a residence without probable cause.” Max eyed her intently, his gaze filled with frustration. “But I can. I might go to jail for it, but dammit, nothing is going to stop me from rescuing my daughter.” A determined glint entered his eyes. “Nothing.”

  Emily might be somewhere on the other side of the river. Held captive by that sadistic freak who had abused them over and over. Hell yeah, Jennie wanted to catch the creep. Take him down. And save Emily. Show Max she’d do anything for him.

  She rose from the couch.

  “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  Her head hurt. Emily moaned and opened her eyes. Tried to get her bearings. She was on a soft bed, in a dimly lit room. A small lamp burned from the opposite side of the bed.

  Wait a second. A soft bed?

  Her head started to spin. She wasn’t in the basement anymore?

  She tried to roll over, but something held her left arm back away from her. She turned her head. She was tied to the bedpost with a white nylon rope.

  At least he’d left one arm free.

  Then the warmth registered. Heat next to her. Pressing into her side. She cautiously turned her head the other way.

  He lay sprawled out on the bed next to her, his chest rising and falling in deep sleep. Soft snores rumbled out of his throat.

  The hood was gone.

  She gasped, her free hand slapping over her mouth.

  She stared, her gaze roaming over the man’s strong, hard jaw that was covered lightly in beard stubble, the high, sharp cheekbones, the full, sensuous lips…

  He was a beautiful man on the outside, but on the inside…

  She shivered.

  Cold. Cruel. Evil.

  Emily couldn’t tear her gaze away from the man who’d once been the object of her teenage crush. He had to be close to forty now. Old
enough to be her father.

  Her stomach churned when she recalled what he’d done to her. What she’d let him do to her. She’d never fought him. Been too terrified to try to escape.

  Even when she’d had an opportunity to get away, she’d come back, because he’d called out to her. He’d needed her. He was injured…

  She was so pathetic. She couldn’t even harm the man who’d abused her.

  Now she was his captive again.

  A sob forced its way up her throat. She swallowed it back.

  Emily stared at him for a moment, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell.

  Then she saw it.

  In his shirt pocket.

  A cell phone.

  Her heart slammed into her ribs.

  She jerked her gaze to his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack as he snored softly.

  She inched her free arm toward his shirt pocket. Toward the cell phone.

  Her gaze snapped back to his face. She touched the top of the phone, gently grasped it with her fingertips.

  She pulled it out of his pocket, an inch at a time. She almost had it.

  He snorted. His arm moved. He scratched at his stomach.

  She leaned away.

  Waited.

  She held her breath.

  His head lolled to the side. He began to snore again.

  She snatched up the phone.

  Emily leaned back, grasping the phone tightly in her hand, her breath coming in quick pants.

  She watched his face.

  Laying the phone on her lap, she swiped the screen with her free hand, searched the contacts until she found…

  Yes!

  Her dad was listed as a contact in the phone. Two numbers appeared beneath his name, one under “home,” the other under “mobile.”

  She couldn’t call the house phone, the one her dad used for the clinic, because she’d wake up her captor if she spoke out loud.