Once Upon a Time in Bliss

by Lexi Blake

  “You can run, bitch, but you can’t fucking hide.”

  She ran, not looking back. All that mattered was getting as far from him as possible. She had no idea how injured he was. He hadn’t been wearing a seat belt. Apparently a seat belt would have cramped his kidnapping style, and she had to hope that it had also broken his legs. An unkind thought, yes, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t really affect her karma because the man was trying to kill her.

  And he would if the cold didn’t get her first.

  She tripped, her feet hitting something solid under the snow that sent her whole body careening. She landed face-first, an icy blanket covering her cheek.

  Get up. No time to waste. No time to hurt.

  She pushed up on her wrists and got to her knees and then her feet. She could hear Lyle. He was getting close.

  She ran again, this time through a thicket of trees, pine needles striking her face like tiny knives cutting at her.

  A scream strangled out of her throat as she fell again. There was no way to tell what was under the snow and the forest was so thick here that the canopy nearly drowned out the moon’s light. Nell stumbled against a tree, her strength waning. It was too cold. She’d nearly lost all feeling in her arms and legs.

  “Got ya, bitch. Now let’s have that talk we were going to have.” Lyle’s silhouette emerged from the trees. She could see the gun glinting from the sparks of moonlight that made it through the evergreens.

  She braced herself against the tree. Which seemed to have fur. And which snorted as she held onto it.

  A hot breath of air hit her cheek as the massive moose turned.

  She was caught between the beast and a gun, and Nell couldn’t see a way out.

  * * * *

  “The signal is up ahead,” Seth said, pointing through the glass. “And down. Shit.”

  Bishop could easily see what the kid was cursing about. The tire tracks they had been following swerved and left the winding road ahead, dropping off into a white and black nothingness.

  How scared had Nell been? Had she called out for him? Was she waiting for him to save her?

  “They’re off road.” Mel brought the truck to a stop, tires crunching in the snow. He hadn’t wavered for a moment, his hands steady on the wheel. He glanced to the two young men in the back of the cab, his voice perfectly even. No panic from the alien hunter. Bishop wouldn’t mind being in the field with him. “You boys arm up or stay here. I taught Logan myself. He’s a damn fine shot. He knows these woods. Seth, do you know how to use a rifle?”

  A determined look came across the kid’s face as Bishop hopped out and Seth followed. “I’ve spent every summer here since I was five years old. I stayed from the day after I got out of school right up until Grandad put me on a plane kicking and screaming. I know this place, too. I also know that Nell’s phone is a hundred feet down that way.”

  Bishop walked to the side of the road. There was no guardrail, nothing at all to stop a car from falling off. He hopped down, unwilling to wait on the others. Trees surrounded him, but up ahead he could see a glint of metal. Bishop heard the others beginning to follow. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to Nell as quickly as possible.

  He followed the path left in the snow by the car rolling down the mountain. He moved quickly, years of practice allowing for grace even with the snow and the grade he was running down. The minute he saw the car, he lifted his weapon, taking a firing stance.

  And nothing.

  “You said her phone was here.” Bishop ran the last couple of yards to the site of the wreck. Even in the dim light, he could see how the car had rolled and crushed up against a tree. The driver’s side was caved in, and there was blood in the snow, but he couldn’t see bodies in the car. An eerie quiet settled around them.

  “The signal is right here. She must have dropped it.” Seth held a rifle in his hand, but he didn’t look as competent as his best friend. Logan dropped to his knees in front of the window and reached in.

  “It’s here, but they’re long gone,” Logan said.

  “And the tracks go two different ways.” Mel ran his hand along an aspen tree’s trunk. “Someone’s been shooting. Looks like a .45 slug. Doesn’t look like he hit anything except this tree though. Not enough blood. Just a little bit in the snow and on the car. That happened in the accident.”

  Bishop studied the scene, quickly coming to the same conclusion as Mel. If someone had been shot, there would be more blood. Unless this fucker had dumped her body, Nell was alive. There were three distinct sets of prints. One set, small, almost certainly female, went to the north. That set was alone, but he had the sudden certainty that those boot prints didn’t belong to Nell. They were triangular at the toe. A cowboy boot and therefore made of leather. Nell would never allow that to touch her feet.

  No. The small rounded-toe prints were hers, and he knew what she’d done. She’d drawn the asshole with the gun away from the other woman.

  If she wasn’t already dead, he might kill her.

  Mel pulled out a walkie-talkie. “Max? You there?”

  A crackling masculine voice came over the handheld radio Mel had switched to. “I am. Just found one of our missing girls. Kelly said Nell was still up there when she took off. Nell was going to run the opposite way.”

  Bishop didn’t wait for further information. He ran, his feet following the line of the larger set of prints. He jogged easily through the snow, the previous runner having already plowed the path. Nell had survived the crash. She’d still been able to run. She was alive, and he had to find her before that changed.

  A shot crashed through the forest, the sound seeming to come from everywhere at once. Bishop’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest. That shot seemed to echo, pinging off the trees and straight through his system. Seth had made it to his side. His eyes were wide as the shot sounded. He opened his mouth to scream.

  Bishop quickly covered Seth’s mouth with his hand, the sound never making it past his lips. He kept his voice at a whisper. “Don’t you dare scream. Don’t make a sound.”

  He couldn’t let the kid alert the shooter that they were here. Seth nodded, and Bishop let him go.

  Mel didn’t make a single noise as he moved in. He motioned toward the woods ahead, his hand making a chopping motion. Mel had some Army training. Bishop gestured around, silently telling Mel to take the flank. He pointed to himself and then in a straight line. He would go through while Mel and Logan went around.

  “You can run, bitch, but you can’t fucking hide.” A male voice echoed through the woods.

  He closed his jaw tightly to keep the growl that came naturally inside. Oh, he was going to take that fucker’s head off. He would do it slowly. He would savor the way his neck crunched, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until it actually came off in his hands and he could mount it on his wall.

  “Stay here,” he whispered to Seth and took off. The kid would confuse things. Mel and Logan were calmer. Seth was ready to panic. This was likely the scariest thing that had ever happened to the kid, but Bishop couldn’t worry about him now. Seth had done his part.

  Bishop moved forward. He wasn’t listening to his instincts. They were telling him to run yelling and screaming for her. Like Seth, he was on the verge of panic. He was Henry Flanders in that moment, and he needed to be John Bishop. He pushed the fear down. It wouldn’t help Nell. He was an iceman, a ghost. It was how he was able to do his job, but there it was—a horrible out-of-control feeling, like bile rising from the pit of his stomach.

  He forced it down as he approached the spot where he was almost certain the sound had come from.

  He heard a strangled scream and then a masculine voice shouting.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  There was a low sound, a huffing chuff that couldn’t possibly be human.

  “Holy shit! That’s big.”

  “It’s a moose.” Nell’s shaky voice whispered through the woods. “Try not to startle it. I think it
’s already afraid because of all the shooting.”

  “Well, we’ll see if he’s afraid of this.”

  “Don’t!” Nell screamed.

  Bishop stopped fighting his instincts. He took off running, not caring if anyone heard him coming because he knew that Nell was about to do something supremely stupid. She’d already put herself in danger to save Kelly. She would likely do the same thing for the moose.

  A shot rang out again, the sound ringing in Bishop’s ears.

  Bishop entered the clearing at a dead run and stopped on a dime at what he saw there.

  An enormous creature stood between Warren Lyle and Nell, his massive body a bulwark separating them. The moose huffed, and even from where he stood he could feel the heat coming off the large beast. It was bigger than anything he’d seen before, its magnificent horns at least as wide as he was tall. Lyle looked small compared to the huffing animal. Bishop saw how his hand shook as he raised his weapon.

  It was an easy thing to walk up behind him. Lyle’s whole being was focused on the beast that had him in its sights. The ground underneath them trembled as the beast stomped one mighty hoof, its antlers shaking.

  He had an arm around Lyle’s neck in an instant, the muzzle of the SIG placed firmly at the base of the man’s head. It took everything he had not to pull the trigger, ending it all here and now, but he didn’t want Nell to see the blood, the way the man’s skull would split.

  “Henry, you found me.” Nell’s voice was shaking. From what he could see she wasn’t prepared for the weather, her curvy frame dressed only in a thin robe and her rubber boots. In the moonlight she looked pale, her lips almost blue. “You need to be still. The moose is gentle, but he’ll attack if he thinks he’s been threatened.”

  “Drop the gun or I’ll blow your head off.” It was what he wanted to do anyway, but Nell was probably right about the moose. The big-ass animal seemed to have had too much stimulation for one night.

  “I can pay you a million dollars. Just get me out of here and let me have the girl. She took everything from me. I’m a rich man. I'll get you anything you want.” Warren Lyle stood still, his voice a low, desperate rasp.

  He was digging himself a deeper hole. “The only thing I want is to blow your head off. The only reason I haven’t done it yet is because of that woman over there. Whatever she did to you it was because she was trying to help someone else.”

  “And because he was evil.” Nell’s teeth chattered as she spoke.

  Where the hell was Mel? He was at an impasse. He needed to get Nell somewhere warm, but first he had to make sure he didn’t get trampled by Bullwinkle.

  “So if he’s evil, I can kill him, right?” Maybe she would be reasonable about this.

  She shook her head. “We can’t sink to their level.”

  He’d already sunk. He’d likely killed far more than Warren Lyle could conceive of. Nell would be horrified. “Drop the gun or what she says won’t matter to me. Do you understand?”

  Lyle’s gun dropped, falling to the ground.

  Mel stalked up from behind. “You did real good, there, professor. Are you sure you haven’t done some hunting in your time?”

  Oh, he’d hunted a lot—terrorists, killers, rogue agents. “I got lucky.”

  Bishop kicked Lyle’s gun out of the way as Mel walked straight up to the moose. Logan took his coat off and wrapped it around Nell. He was starting to like the kid.

  “Go on, now. You’ve had your fun.” Mel slapped at the moose’s backside, and Bishop stiffened, waiting for the thing to strike.

  It merely huffed, an arrogant sound, as it shook its horns out and started to walk away.

  “That’s Maurice. He’s a jokester, that one. I swear, he’s scared the crap out of more than one kid who leaned up against him thinking he was a tree. Logan, here, peed his pants once,” Mel explained.

  “Did you see the size of that thing? I was seven. We’re lucky all I did was pee.” Logan was surprisingly calm. “Rye’s on his way. He just radioed Mel. Rye will take this jerk into custody.”

  Maybe the kid could do a deputy’s job.

  With deep regret, he relaxed his hold on Lyle. It looked like he would be going to jail instead of a fast grave. He couldn’t bring himself to shatter Nell’s illusions. He was weak around her.

  Of course, it would be easy to make sure the fucker never left his jail cell again. There were lots of ways to ensure that. All a man needed were connections and cash and he could easily have a threat removed forever, and Nell would never have to know how bloody his hands were.

  She could still have her perfect vision of her college professor lover.

  Well, maybe not perfect since he fully intended to make sure her ass was red once he figured out if she had frostbite.

  “Take this asshole for me, Mel.” He needed to get his hands on her. He wouldn’t quite believe it was real until he held her in his arms, warmed her up with the heat of his own body.

  “Is it over?” a voice asked from behind him, surprising them all.

  Lyle kicked back and Bishop, who had been pushing him toward Mel, slipped, catching his foot on a fallen branch. Lyle moved fast, capturing Seth and wrapping an arm around his throat. Lyle had a hundred pounds on the kid. Seth dropped his rifle. It lay on the snow right at Lyle’s feet.

  Three guns came up, pointed right at Lyle, but now he had a human shield. Seth fought, but he was ineffectual against Lyle’s muscle. He held Seth with one arm. His other hand reached into the pocket of his coat and came out with a large, wicked-looking knife.

  “I was going to gut that bitch with this, but now I think maybe it’s my ticket to freedom.” Lyle’s lips curled back. He held the knife right at Seth’s throat. Bishop could see the way it pressed in, a delicate red line beginning to form.

  “Let him go. It’s me you want.” Nell started toward the raving lunatic with the ridiculously large knife. “Let him go, and I’ll go with you.”

  No way. No how. It made him a ruthless bastard, but he wouldn’t sacrifice Nell to save Seth. In fact, he would do the exact opposite. It wasn’t fair, but if he had a choice, he would always choose Nell. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  Lyle wasn’t backing down. “Give me the bitch or I’ll slit this kid’s throat. You have no idea how much I’ll sacrifice to see her pay.”

  He had a good idea. Lyle had lost his damn mind, and he would do anything to get his revenge, but he wasn’t going to let Nell play the martyr this time.

  “You have to let me go. I can’t, Henry. I can’t live with this.” Nell tried to struggle, but he lifted her up so she couldn’t fight him.

  He looked back at Mel. “Do you have a shot?”

  Mel shook his head. “No.”

  A brilliant blue flash came through the forest, followed by a flash of red. Rye Harper was here, but he might be too late. Nell kept up her struggle, pleading with him. Mel held his ground. Bishop wondered if he was going to watch Seth’s blood spill on the ground. He was rather shocked to find out the idea made his gut turn. He gave a shit about that kid.

  A shot rang out, and Bishop watched as a neat hole split Lyle’s head, an unbelievable show of marksmanship. One inch to the left or right and Seth Stark would have died, but that shot had been sheer perfection. Seth stood still as Lyle dropped back, his body falling to the snow.

  “Is he dead?” Seth asked, his eyes wide and his whole body shaking.

  Rye Harper charged into the scene, his pistol up. “What the hell is going on? Who took that shot?”

  Logan Green walked up to his friend, his rifle at his side. He put a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “We can’t ever tell my moms I did that.”

  Harper looked down at the body and whistled. “Damn, Logan, I was trying to come up with some way to keep you from applying for my job when I take over as sheriff. The job’s yours, son. This is good work. And we won’t mention this to Teeny or Marie. You boys get out of here. Go home. If I’m going to be the sheriff of Blis
s, I might as well start learning how to cover shit up. It’s kind of a way of life out here.”

  “You can let me down now.” Nell’s voice sounded hollow. She lay limp in his arms.

  “No.” Bishop clutched her close. He would have to let her go, but not tonight. Tonight, he would make sure she was safe. It was the only thing he could do for her.

  He started to walk toward the car, ignoring everything else.

  Nell was all that mattered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Two days later, Nell wondered if Henry was ever going to touch her again.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Callie asked. She held up the handcuffs. “This stuff looks pretty serious. Where did you get this from? Never mind. I know the answer. Stef.”

  “He brought over a whole bag of toys. That’s what he called them, but some of those things don’t look like a ton of fun.” She pulled out what looked like a riding crop. Stef seemed to have thought of almost everything.

  Now she had to hope she could tempt Henry into using them.

  For two nights he’d held her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep, but beyond kissing her silly, he hadn’t made a move.

  It was starting to worry her. She was starting to think that he would leave without ever making love to her again.

  Callie helped turn the sheets down. “Has he said anything?”

  Nell shook her head. This seduction scene was her last play. “No. He took me to the hospital, and even though they said I only needed some rest, he hasn’t seemed interested. Do you think he figured out how much trouble I am? Is that why he doesn’t want me anymore?”

  Callie pushed her glasses up. “You aren’t trouble. I think he still wants you. I’ve seen how he looks at you, and it’s not like he’s left you alone. I had to pry him away from you this afternoon. I think he’s…thinking.”

  She was pretty sure she wouldn’t like what Henry was thinking about. She was pretty sure he was thinking about leaving. “I want one more night.”