“Castle wants it. I don’t question. He pays the bills so I do what he tells me.”
The two men laughed as the car continued to barrel down the winding road she’d just driven down an hour earlier. They were going back by Sam’s house. Had they followed her? How else would they have known where to find her?
She closed her eyes as despair fell over her. In the year she’d been held captive she’d never once accepted her death. She’d waited for Ethan, knowing that somehow, someway he’d find her. Now she had no such hope. There was no way for him to know what had happened to her. He might not even be alive.
A sense of calm descended, washing away the paralyzing fear and panic. Before, she’d waited for someone to save her. Now it was up to her to save herself.
No one can save you now but you.
Her own words drifted back to her. Said such a short time ago. How prophetic they’d turned out to be.
Ethan couldn’t help her now. She had only herself.
She gathered the memories of Donovan and Garrett teaching her self-defense. How they’d despaired of her being too girly to ever learn anything. She’d shown them when she’d tossed them on their asses in a rage.
They’d laughed and called her too easy, and she’d refused to speak to them for a week. They’d eventually sucked up to her with chocolate and books.
She’d made them keep teaching her. With Ethan gone so much, she’d felt it important to be able to defend herself.
Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat, and by sheer force of will, she kept it down and recovered the eerie calm of a moment ago.
She studied both men, the one in the front and the one with a bruising grip on her uninjured wrist. She was worried her right arm was broken, but what was a broken arm compared to a bullet in the head?
Suck it up, Rachel. It’s not going to be easy, and it’ll hurt like hell, but you’re not going down without a fight.
The driver was short but very stocky in build. The ass**le sitting beside her was tall, much taller than her, but he wasn’t as bulky. She’d probably have more success at knocking him on his ass, but then the driver was the one wielding the gun.
Oh well, she’d die if she did nothing, so if she died trying to escape, the outcome was still the same. It amazed her how accepting she could be of her own death. Maybe it was because for the last year, she’d been dead.
They pulled onto a gravel road that led away from the lake, and the driver turned off the headlights, plunging the world around them into darkness. The moon wasn’t even out and the overcast sky blotted out the stars.
What was she going to do? She needed a plan. Plan? Her only plan was to survive, however she could make that happen.
Again the driver pulled off the road they were on, this time onto a path that led back into the woods. She stifled a groan. Even if she managed to escape, she wouldn’t have a clue where she was.
The car ground to a halt, and she braced herself for the agonizing pain that would come as soon as she moved. And the jackass wasn’t gentle about hauling her out of the car.
She clamped her jaw shut, but an agonized groan still escaped when his hand circled her broken arm and yanked.
“Let’s make this quick,” the driver muttered. “Sooner we get the hell out of here, the better.”
She saw the dull metal finish of the gun as he pulled it from his pocket. She only had seconds to act.
She was crazy, right? It was time to see just how crazy she was.
As soon as tall guy wrapped his hand around her arm to haul her into the trees, she cut loose with a yell to rival a banshee’s. She kneed him in the groin, and ignoring the agony ripping through her arm, she stabbed him in the eyes. He rolled away shrieking like a girl, and she was careful to keep him between her and the guy with the gun.
Her foot hit a large rock, and she hit the ground, her hand grabbing at the dirt until she wrapped her fingers around the rock. The man aimed his gun at her and she let it fly. She hadn’t played softball for eight years for nothing.
It hit him right in the head with deadly accuracy. He folded like a puppet, and she scrambled up, not wasting a second before fleeing into the woods.
The sound of bullets hitting the trees beside her spurred her on. Bastard was using a silencer so she had no idea how far back he was. It didn’t matter. If he caught her, she was dead.
“ETHAN. Ethan!”
Ethan came awake in an instant, every instinct screaming at him that something was terribly wrong. He glanced around to see Sean shining a light in his face. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare, and Sean lowered the light.
“Christ, you scared ten years off me. What the hell happened?” Sean demanded.
Rachel.
The realization slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He reached down and yanked at his seat belt. Sean grabbed him, yelling at him to stop.
“Goddamn it, Ethan, you need to wait for the ambulance. You shouldn’t move. Don’t know if you damaged your spine. Come on, cooperate with me.”
“Rachel,” Ethan rasped. “They have her.”
He threw off Sean’s arms and managed to get out of the seat belt. Christ, how was he going to get out? His entire side of the truck was caved in. The window was busted out, and Sean leaned through with his flashlight.
Ethan turned in the direction of the passenger seat. Where Rachel had been. The door was still open, but her seat was eerily empty.
Heaving himself up, he crawled across the center console and all but fell out of the passenger seat and onto the ground. Sean was around the truck in an instant, that damn flashlight beam bouncing across Ethan’s face again.