men heard her exclamation, it didn’t register with them. She turned, searching for the lethal source of energy. The dark-haired military hotshot had to be close.
A movement to her left startled her, but it was only a young couple exiting their silver sedan. As they walked toward the shuttle stop, they grew wary of the men tussling on the ground. The man pushed his wife behind him as he approached.
“Hey!” He grabbed the bald-headed man’s fist before he could strike again. “You’ve done enough damage.”
The bald-headed man stopped his attack, seeming stunned and then genuinely shocked as he looked between the man who’d intervened and his victim. “My God. I didn’t….”
“We need to call for help,” Claire said, even as two more men and an elderly woman also approached the group. If nothing else, the increased number gave her more security. If hotshot had expected the fighting men to leave her vulnerable, his plan had certainly backfired.
The young woman pulled out her phone as others crowded around trying to help the beaten man.
“Claire?”
Claire turned at the sound of her name, surprised to see Sandy and her husband sitting in their car, stopped only feet from the scene. “What are you doing here, Sandy?” They should have been well on their way home.
“Dennis took the wrong turn, and we ended up in long-term parking. We were just circling around when we saw you. What’s going on? Why are you out here? I thought you were renting a car.”
Warm relief rushed through her. “I was. I am. It’s a long story. Could I catch a ride back to the terminal with you?” That would get her out of harm’s way faster than anything would.
“Sure, honey.” Sandy exited the car and opened the door to the back seat for her. “Maybe you could help me with something on the short drive around.”
“Of course.” Claire sat in the backseat as Sandy dropped a massive tangle of red yarn on her lap. Claire frowned at the mess, uncertain of her friend’s intentions.
“My eyesight isn’t the best anymore. If you could dig around in there and try to find an end, I’m sure I can get it untangled.”
“Uh, okay.” Claire started picking through layers, not comfortable manipulating something so…homey.
“Yes, like that.” Sandy reached in and pulled several strings up over Claire’s wrists. “You really have to dig in there.”
The tangled strands seemed to take on a life of their own, growing more twisted as they wrapped around her hands. She tried to pull free of the mess, but the yarn held tight.
“That’ll work,” a man’s voice replied instead.
Claire jerked her gaze up in time to see the hardened soldier close the door, trapping her inside. She no longer sat in Sandy’s car, but in the luxurious leather, front seat of his Hummer. Cold fear hardened her veins, and she yanked her hands, trying to free them. Her bindings were no longer soft red yarn, but rough twine tied expertly around her. The more she struggled, the deeper the fibers cut into her skin.
He opened the driver’s door and climbed in, bringing with him the tantalizing sent of gunpowder and leather. He studied her with careful, calculating eyes. “Fighting will only make this worse for you. Already, you’re bleeding.”
Several crimson smudges marred her wrists, and she wished desperately that she could strike out and hurt him in return. “You bastard. Let me go.” The illusion he’d created had been so real. She’d never had a chance against him. Her assumption that they’d been on an even playing field had been a costly mistake.
“I told you we could do this the easy way or the hard way. You chose hard.” He jammed the Hummer into gear as though her pain angered him, before he sped off into the chilly evening.
17
Claire watched through the windshield as misty miles slipped away, leaving cars and her chance for rescue on the darkened roads behind them. Warm city lights gave way to cool, forested wilderness, and the time between passing vehicles grew longer and longer.
She wasn’t sure how or why, but she knew without a doubt this man was a danger to the very fabric of her soul. If he could, he’d keep her from reaching her destination. If he succeeded, there would be no reason to keep breathing. She needed to get home, much the way salmon needed to return upriver in order to secure the survival of their species. Someone waited for her. Someone who needed her as much as