by Kaylea Cross
The current pulled her down. She sucked in a breath and dipped back under again, but this time the bottom was much closer. She shoved off it and surfaced, swimming for the bank now only a few dozen yards away.
When she tested the depth a few seconds later, her feet touched. She found her footing on the river bottom and waded her way to shore. Gasping for breath as she finally made it, she climbed out of the water.
The cold and exertion had her trembling all over. She shot a glance to her left, saw the cop still coming at her.
Gritting her teeth, she put her head down and forced her shaky legs into as much of a run as they had left in them. Her shoes were gone, the muddy bank squishy and slick beneath her bare feet. Water sluiced from her body, making her dress cling to her like a second-skin and adding weight her exhausted muscles didn’t need.
The bank sloped gently upward, the trees beyond it beckoning to her. She was totally exposed here, the sense of vulnerability terrifying. Her damn dress was like a neon sign in the darkness. There was no way to get it off her with her hands bound. She had to get deep enough into the woods and disappear so that he couldn’t see her, then find someplace to hide. Fast.
As she ran, she glanced down. Her footprints were well-defined in the muddy bank, and the water left a clear trail when she reached the dried grass beyond it.
She kept going, icy terror sluicing over her, expecting a shot to ring out at any moment. She was being hunted. Her only chance at surviving this was to outrun him and lose him in the forest long enough to hide somewhere he wouldn’t find her.
The tree line was right in front of her now. She darted into the woods, careening through the trees, pain shooting through her feet as the rocks and sticks cut her bare soles.
She didn’t stop. Glanced around, frantically looking for a place to hide. Nothing stood out and she couldn’t slow down to look around.
Her heart was an erratic tattoo in her ears. Don’t stop, don’t stop. He’s coming.
Her skin crawled, the back of her neck prickling in a constant reminder of what was at stake. But she was tiring fast, the initial surge of adrenaline that had gotten her this far fading fast. She was shaking, gasping for breath.
A gunshot blasted through the quiet.
Her whole body jerked, her heart rocketing into her throat, blocking the cry forming there. Shit, he’d seen her, and he was too close! She had to lose him, buy some time.
She veered right and pushed herself harder, not willing to risk a glance over her shoulder as she wove her way through the trees. This damn red dress was going to get her killed.
A sob caught in her throat. She forced it down and plunged ahead, searching for some kind of cover. Her gaze caught on something off to the right. A large, half-rotten trunk. She swerved toward it, her feet on fire and her pulse thudding in her throat.
The trunk loomed closer. But when she neared it, she realized it wasn’t thick enough. She’d never be able to hide behind it. She had to find something else.
Just as she raced past it, she spotted something else close by. A small outcropping of rock.
Nina headed straight for it, ducked behind it and dropped to the ground, curling into as small a ball as possible while trying to quiet her ragged breathing. Now that she’d stopped, a wave of helplessness and despair crashed over her.
This was it. She had nowhere else to go. Either the cop ran by without finding her, or this spot would be her grave.
Nina shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to give into the burn of tears. She needed to get her hands free.
Angling her body, she looked for a sharp edge of rock, placed the center of the plastic zip tie binding her wrists against it, and began sawing. Small, quick motions, up and down, up and down…
The quiet was suffocating, her ears attuned to every tiny sound. Through the fear, her mind filled with thoughts of her family…and of Tate.
She loved him. Even if it was too soon. Even if they’d barely spent any time together. She knew her own heart, and right now it was bleeding at the thought of never seeing him again.
Then she heard something. Something was moving out ahead and to the right.
She held her breath, praying. Had he seen her?
The sound came closer. She began sawing at the zip tie faster. Go past me. Go past me!
“You can’t hide, Nina! I’m going to find you.”
The zip tie was partially cut now. Clenching her teeth together, she twisted her hands and pulled apart with all her might as she kept sawing.
Her hands broke apart. She shuddered, reached down behind her to pick up a fist-sized rock. If it looked like he’d found her, if he came close enough, she would try to bash him in the face and run—
“Stop, police!”
Nina gasped and froze, hope surging at the distant shout carrying through the trees. The urge to pop up from behind the rock and look around was strong, but she stayed where she was, hardly daring to breathe as the agonizing seconds stretched out.
Another shot exploded in the silence. She flinched. Who had fired at whom?
“Hands up! Drop your weapon!”
Her entire body went rigid as the sound of that second voice finally registered. One she would recognize anywhere.
Tate. He’d found her.
But now there was an armed madman standing between them.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tate stopped and put his rifle to his shoulder, partially hidden behind a tree as he caught his breath. After the harrowing race down here to catch up, he finally had the bastard in his sights.
He’d lost sight of Nina over a minute ago. She was somewhere off to the right, hidden from view, and he wanted her to stay there until this was over. He was worried as hell she might have hypothermia after being in the water. He’d aged ten years watching her repeatedly going under in the water like that.
“Hands up! Drop your weapon!” he shouted. This ended now.
The shooter whirled to face him, shock and fury on his face at being caught.
Tate longed to put a bullet in the center of it but refrained, finger curled around the trigger. They would take this fucker in alive so investigators could wring every last bit of information about his victims and crimes out of him. Then lock him up to await the lethal injection he deserved.
Tate could hear Avery rushing up behind him, just having caught up. “Backup’s almost here,” she panted.
Tate nodded once, raw fury rushing through him as he stared the shooter down. “Last chance,” he called out.
There was no way the shooter could miss Tate’s rifle. He had to know Tate had called in backup. But rather than drop his pistol and comply, the bastard whirled and fired at him.
Tate didn’t flinch, the shot going wide, and followed as the shooter bolted through the trees. Tate dropped to one knee. When the shooter appeared in a small opening, Tate fired one round, hitting him in the back of the right shoulder.
A mingled cry of pain and rage filled the air. The shooter went down for a second but then popped up and kept going, crashing through the brush in a desperate attempt to escape.
Tate’s jaw tightened. Not. Fucking. Happening.
“Ready?” Tate muttered to Avery.
“Yep.”
She was right behind him as they raced down the slight incline and followed the shooter deeper into the woods. Tate couldn’t see him, but he could see the movement of the branches and brush that marked the asshole’s progress, giving away his location.
Tate was prepared to punch as many holes in the bastard’s hide as necessary to bring him down. But a lethal one only as a last resort.
The shooter was slowing now. Tate closed the distance between them, noting the pistol was now in the man’s left hand, his right arm dangling at his side, blood dripping down it. “Stop and drop your weapon!” he yelled. He wanted this over so he could go to Nina.
The shooter whirled and fired. Tate ducked, then stopped. Taking aim, he fired again, hitting the back o
f the man’s left thigh.
Blood sprayed as an enraged roar echoed through the trees.
“It’s over,” Tate said as he stalked forward, rifle to his shoulder. “Give it up.” They were maybe fifty yards apart now.
Tate stopped just out of pistol range. The asshole was down, had nowhere to go. “Drop it, now,” he barked.
Rolling to his side, the shooter stared back at him with utter loathing, his teeth bared in a feral grimace of pain. “Fuck you,” he snarled. His left hand flashed upward, the muzzle of the pistol pointed toward his own head.
Tate fired, hitting him in the stomach instead of the chest. He wanted this bastard to live long enough to tell them everything they needed to know.
The shooter dropped back with a guttural grunt, his pistol falling to the ground. Tate raced for him, ready to fire again. This time the bastard stayed down, his hand going to the wound in his gut rather than for his weapon.
Tate ran up and kicked the pistol away. “Why’d you target Nina?” he demanded, standing over him.
Pain-glazed blue eyes stared up at him. Livid scratches marked his face. Tate hoped Nina had done the damage, but they looked old enough that it might have been someone else. Maybe Samantha.
The asshole opened his mouth. A garbled sound came out, along with a trickle of blood.
“I got him,” Avery said, holstering her weapon and quickly dropping to her knees beside the guy. “Why’d you take Nina? Huh?” she snapped, pulling a pair of flex cuffs out of her pocket.
No answer. Just another guttural groan and more blood.
Avery looked up at Tate, her face set, anger burning in her eyes. “Go. Find her.”
He nodded and turned back the way he’d come, leaving her to cuff the bastard and try to keep him alive if she could. If the asshole was going to die, Tate just hoped it took a long time to happen.
“Nina! Nina, can you hear me?” he shouted, turning in a slow circle. He had only a vague idea which direction she was in. “He’s down and we’ve got him. It’s over. Where are you?”
“Here.”
He whirled, searching the undergrowth in the direction the faint reply had come from. His feet moved without conscious thought, carrying him toward her voice. “Nina, where?”
“Here!”
Her voice was stronger now, giving him hope that she was okay.
Tate broke into a run, following it. He still couldn’t see her. But she had to be fairly close. “I’m coming.”
He leapt over a large fallen branch and kept running, desperate to get to her. “I can’t see you. Where are you?”
A flash of red appeared up ahead on the right. He raced toward it, his heart clenching when Nina stepped out from behind a rock outcropping. She had blood on her face. “Nina.”
Her face crumpled and her arms came up, a broken zip tie around each wrist as she reached for him.
Tate erased the distance between them in a few more strides and grabbed her, hauling her tight against him with a groan. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he breathed, his voice rough.
“Tate,” she whispered, her arms looped around his neck.
Jesus, she was freezing. He let go of her just long enough to set his rifle down, then grabbed the back of her sodden dress and quickly peeled it off her.
She protested and tried to cover herself but he ignored it. “We have to get you dry and warmed up,” he told her, dropping the wet dress before ripping off his shirt. He scanned her quickly for injuries. She was scraped and bruised in several places, but he didn’t see any sign of serious injury.
He tugged his shirt down over her head and pulled it down to cover her. The material came halfway down her thighs.
Tate pulled her close again and wrapped his arms around her to warm her, closing his eyes as he took his first full breath since he’d seen that video of her being taken on campus.
Christ, he’d almost lost her. He would never let that happen again. He was all in, ready to give her his heart, and would do anything to keep her safe.
“Is h-he d-dead?” she whispered, teeth chattering. She was shaking so hard, partly from cold, but it had to be fear as well.
“I don’t know.”
“It w-was him. H-he’s the one wh-who r-raped me.”
Tate clenched his jaw and hugged her tighter, wanting to go back there and pound the fucker’s face in. Was he an actual cop? Or just posing as one?
Tate was willing to bet the bastard had reported an active shooter in a bid to get to Nina. “It’s okay now, sweetheart. He’ll never hurt anyone again. I’ve got you.”
She made a choked sound and buried her face in his chest. Tate’s heart clenched. “It’s all right now,” he repeated, wishing he could make this all go away for her. “I’m going to get you out of here now, okay?”
A tiny sob came out of her, ripping his heart to shreds, but she nodded. “C-cold.”
“I know, baby. I’ll take care of you. Come on.” He slung his rifle across his back, then bent and carefully gathered her up, one arm beneath her knees and the other wrapped securely around her ribs.
She immediately curled into him, hiding her face in his neck. Tate cradled her to him and started carrying her out of the woods, a complex knot of emotion building in his throat.
He loved her. And now that she was safe in his arms, he was never letting her go again.
****
What a bitch of a day, and it was barely half over.
Avery sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she walked away from the Fed she’d been speaking to. They’d begun questioning her the instant she stepped out of the trees with Nina and Tate where the emergency vehicles were parked on the road. She was drained, wanted all this to be over.
At least Nina was safe and being looked at right now. Everything had turned out okay in the end, but God, Avery had never been that scared before.
Hunting that animal down through the forest while he chased Nina was going to be permanently burned into her psyche. Now she was tired and just wanted to see her friend.
“Avery!”
She spun around, peered past the police tape as someone pushed their way in front of one of the cops guarding the perimeter set up on the dirt road she and Tate had raced up earlier. Shading her eyes with one hand, she was surprised to see Mason standing there.
The cops weren’t letting him through, and much as he irritated her, she wasn’t going to leave him standing there when he’d come all this way and was clearly worried. She hurried over, holding up her badge. “He’s with me,” she said to the cops, and they let him through.
Mason ducked under the tape and closed the distance between them, the brim of his black cowboy hat hiding his face in shadow. “What happened?” he demanded, stopping a foot from her and setting his hands on his hips.
The sheer power of him hit her, the tightly coiled energy rolling off him palpable. A wall of strength and tightly leashed violence ready to unload on a target. “Nina’s okay. Kidnapper’s en route to the hospital, sporting a few bullet holes courtesy of Tate.” She peered up at him as he visibly relaxed, struck again by the intensity of his bright blue gaze. “What are you doing here?”
“Tracked Tate’s phone.” Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.
Avery was too stunned to resist, even as her body tensed. Then went hot, all over, in a way that had nothing to do with perimenopause.
Pressed against that warm, hard wall of muscle, those ridiculously sexy arms around her, all her nerve endings suddenly burst to life. She automatically laid her hands against his back, his body heat helping to chase away the chill inside her.
“You okay?” he murmured, his cheek pressed to her temple.
He smelled as delicious as he looked. And his obvious concern took her aback.
She’d seen Mason in playful mode. Teasing and flirting mode. Borderline arrogant mode. But she’d never seen this protective side of him, the lethal operator that was so much a part of him coming t
hrough.
Arousal and something deeper, softer swept through her. Something dangerous.
She cleared her throat and stepped back, doing her damndest to hide her reaction as she put a bit of space between them. “Tate’s being interviewed, which means Nina’s alone. I need to be with her.”
Mason nodded, his jaw flexing, that piercing blue gaze locked on her. “I’m glad you’re okay. All of you.”
She put on a smile. It was hard to remember why she’d made up her mind to dislike him when he was like this. She couldn’t keep her guard up against this side of him for long, so she needed to be careful. “Me too. I don’t know how long we’ll be, but at least a while more. Do you want to wait, or…?”
“Nah, if everything’s good here, I’ll head back. Just wanted to be sure you guys were all right.”
“I appreciate that. Can you go check on Rylee? We left her on campus, and it’ll be a while before Tate or I can get to her.”
“Of course.” He reached up to graze his knuckles gently against her jaw, those blue, blue eyes on hers. “See you later, angel eyes.”
Avery stood there frozen for a second, heat sparking across the skin he’d just touched, her eyes drinking in the sight of him as he walked away.
Blowing out a breath, she spun around and went to find Nina. In future, she needed to stay the hell away from Mason Gallant before she was tempted to do something she would no doubt regret later.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nina was still shivering when Avery finally showed up at the ambulance parked at the edge of the road beside the forest. Tate had stayed with her while the paramedics looked her over, then while she’d called her parents to let them know what had happened and that she was okay.
They were understandably freaked out and were flying out first thing in the morning to come here. Then Tate had to leave her to talk with the police, and ever since she’d felt colder without him holding her.
