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A call to ask her to stop died on his lips.
Gunshot. A terrified woman.
For a split second, he grappled with conflicting impulses, his mind waging a battle between the urge to intervene and the instinct to steer clear of someone else’s troubles. He had enough of his own. But walking away from someone in need wasn’t in his nature.
I can’t leave her.
Heart racing, Caleb plunged into the forest after the woman.
6
Grace ran blind.
She’d lost all sense of direction. Gunshot had destroyed her scrappy plan to hike to the nearest town as easily as it had shattered the night air. Branches grabbed at her, their thorns piercing her jacket, scratching the backs of her hands and snagging on her hair.
Voices punctured the night air, thick accented male voices. Richard’s security team. They had been the background to her life for the last fifteen years, haunted her sleep even now. She would know them anywhere.
Acidic tendrils snaked through her veins, scorching her throat and lungs, until only bitterness remained. A fresh cramp clawed at her side, threatening to cripple her resolve. Every step was like wading through molasses, her energy depleted. She was running on empty. The temptation to surrender, to succumb to the darkness, whispered enticingly in her mind.
Just give it up, Grace.
Heavy steps gained on her. A man, but quick on his feet, his stride purposeful and steady, not the chaotic footsteps of her pursuers.
With a wary glance over her shoulder, her world lurched as her foot caught on an unseen obstacle, sending her crashing to the forest floor, one arm twisting under her. Pain engulfed her exhausted body, and stars danced at the edge of her vision, threatening to swallow her whole.
It’s over.
“Hey.” The voice in her ear was a soothing lifeline in this living hell. Strong arms enveloped her, forming a physical shield, and then his solid body pressed against her spine. “They’re close. Don’t move.” The voice was familiar. The man she’d seen only moments before. Locked in by the embankment studded with roots before her, and the warmth of the man behind, she found herself both trapped and protected. He must have heard the gunshots. Why would he want to help or get involved?
Her heart raced in her chest, a wild creature desperate for escape. The coarse texture of fallen leaves grazed her cheek. I’m in a ditch.
“Try to slow your breathing.”
“Slow,” she echoed, but her breathing was an erratic rasp. Adrenalin made her heart give another spurt, till she was sure it would rupture right out of her chest. Her left hand throbbed, trapped beneath her, while she dug her right into the soil. Spongy with decayed matter, it was a futile attempt to ground herself somewhere other than the ongoing nightmare of her life. With a desperate last attempt to free herself, she shifted, only to freeze at the sound of her pursuer’s voice.
“Bailey. We know you’re here.”
The mention of her surname iced her spine.
“You’re going to freeze to death out here. Let me take you home. Richard is worried.” Alex Mason, Richard’s right-hand man, a former bodyguard and submariner. Richard wasn’t messing around. He meant to silence her once and for all.
The careful tread of snow under boots was near. Alex would see her at any moment. She closed her eyes tight, her body slipping back to her childhood when she believed she was invisible if her eyes were closed. Soft dirt pattered on her cheek, her neck, her arm.
What?
A gentle touch scattered dirt and leaves over her, concealing her from view. The stranger wanted to protect, not harm her. His breath, steady against her neck, not jagged like her own, offered a rhythmic reassurance.
The tread of boots halted nearby, the harsh rasp of breath slicing through the tense silence. “Fuck.” A soft mutter. More footsteps approached. “Granger?”
“No sign of her, sir.”
“Fuck. She can’t disappear. She’s fucking running scared. Spread out and circle back to the road. We’ll create a loop and close in. There’s nowhere for her to go on foot. She’ll be dead by the morning if she stays out in this, and we can’t risk drawing that kind of attention.”
Grace squeezed her eyes tight. She’d known they wouldn’t give up easily, but to hear the determination in Alex’s voice? It crushed the small crumb of hope that had sustained her over recent days.
“Yes, sir.” As the younger man moved away, there was a brief reprieve, interrupted only by the striking of a match and the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. The smoke was brief, a few rapid puffs and then the stamp of the butt being extinguished under a boot before Alex moved on. Rough voices faded, swallowed by the night.
The arm locked around her loosened, but his protective embrace remained. For a fleeting moment, Grace allowed herself to relax into the safety of his hold, the outside world and its harsh reality held at bay.
