Page 101 of Found in Wild Sage

But reality has no place here for her because she grabs me by the hair and yanks my head back. “Open your mouth.”

I keep my lips firmly shut.

“Open your lying little mouth, or I will knock out your teeth.” She holds up the butt of the bottle, and I see in her eyes she would love to do it, so I open.

She instantly dumps vodka into my mouth. It burns my tongue and throat. I try to keep from swallowing it, but she just keeps pouring. I’m spitting it out, thrashing away from her, choking, and now Charlie’s wails are increasing.

“Fine!” She yells this so loud, Charlie’s cries stop for a moment. She scrubs something rough across my face, then covers my mouth with duct tape again.

Then she grabs my arm and moves me so I’m face down.

“Stay there. We’ll do this another way.”

She takes Charlie and I mentally follow the sounds of him crying outside. A car door opens, then shuts, and the sound is mute enough, she must’ve put my son in the car.

I brace for the sound of the engine, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she reenters the cabin and hauls me up off the floor. I have no reason to fight her at this point because I want her to take me to where Charlie is. I see the car and can hear he’s still crying as we approach it. She yanks open the driver’s side door and shoves me in, cracking my head on the vehicle as I drop into the seat.

She disappears, and I pull and pull and pull on the tab, but I make no progress. I can hardly move my arms because of how she’s taped them behind me. Does she really think law enforcement is going to believe I did this to myself?

Then she’s back, gun in one hand, bottle in the other. My mouth’s still covered, but I brace for when she’ll rip the tape off again since she’s evidently proceeding with her plan.

“Now. You’re going to drink this, or I will shoot your precious son. You will not fight me or try to be anything other than the simple little slut you are and do as you’re told. And when⁠—”

“Pine County Sheriff, place the weapon on the ground and put your hands up.”

Katrina’s whole body jolts and I watch her hand, begging her to stay steady enough she doesn’t accidentally pull the trigger. Her eyes blow wide, then she juts out her chin and her whole demeanor hardens.

“Katrina Trundle, place the weapon on the ground and put your hands up.”

I could cry with relief at hearing Grant’s voice, but I’m too terrified by Katrina’s hesitancy. She’s not doing anything but standing there.

She whips around, dropping the vodka bottle and aiming the gun at me while she yells. “Are you going to shoot me? Is that it? Shoot me because I’m trying to make things right? Making sure this whore doesn’t ruin someone else?”

Charlie’s crying, my heart is shredded, and I still can’t do anything. I can’t move myself, can’t scream, can’t beg her to put the gun down and end all of this.

She scrambles to me and pulls me out of the car. I trip on my feet, but she yanks me upright and holds me in front of her. She was always fit, but the way she’s manhandling me seems impossible.

I’ve never thought about what it’d be like to be used as a human shield, but here I am. She’s got one hand around my waist and the other presses the muzzle of the gun into my temple.

Grant is shouting. Another voice comes in. Another. Sirens roar in the distance.

And then, my entire world shatters when I hear someone say, “Katrina, please. I beg of you. Let my wife go. Let Charlie go.”

I thrash around until I finally set eyes on him. Emerging from the far side of the cabin, he walks toward us with hands raised. Grant and someone else are yelling at him, but he doesn’t stop.

There’s my husband approaching slow and steady, and I discover a new level of fear is possible.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Declan

Finding Katrina Trundle turned out to be easy with the Saint team on our side. They located her cell phone faster than the sheriff’s department could manage due to legal red tape and whatever else, and soon enough, we were on the road to a small hunting cabin not far from Gary Longbrow’s place.

Of course, Grant told me I couldn’t come. Logically, I understand this, but I begged him. I promised I wouldn’t get involved—that I’d stay in the car. And that was the worst lie I’ve ever told my brother.

Because hearing Charlie screaming snapped all the logic from my existence. I became a man functioning on feeling and primal purpose with one objective: Save Evie. Save Charlie. No matter the cost.

I keep my hands up and focus my eyes on Katrina’s. I can’t look at Evie’s face, can’t get caught up in her eyes, or I’ll lose focus. Charlie’s crying, trying to escape his car seat aggressively enough I can’t catch his eye. At least he’s belted in so he’s contained and out of the direct line of fire.