Henry Kavenski loomed behind the kidnapper, snaking a huge arm around the other man’s neck and hauling him back away from Cara. The gun went off as the man’s arms flailed in surprise, and Cara jerked in anticipation. She had no way of knowing if the bullet had missed her, or if she’d been hit and adrenaline kept her from feeling the pain, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch. Holding her knife outstretched in front of her, she lunged toward the grappling men. As she paused, not wanting to accidentally stab her rescuer rather than the kidnapper, Kavenski twisted the gun out of the man’s grip. The kidnapper elbowed him hard in the gut, but Henry just gave a grunt before swinging the gun toward the other man’s temple. The butt connected with a thud, sending the kidnapper to the floor. Tense and ready, Cara stared at the downed man, expecting him to jump back into the fight, but he lay limp and still.
Kavenski stood over the unmoving stranger, but his intent gaze was focused on Cara. As their eyes met, she felt a crashing wave of relief broken by a tiny bit of residual fear. After all, there was a chance she was wrong about him, and he wasn’t any less deadly than the man currently sprawled across the floor.
At least he’s not pointing a gun at me, she reasoned, and the last bit of wariness crumbled away into nothing. Kavenski had never tried to hurt her and had saved her life twice now. She shifted her weight as she continued to stare at him, still not quite believing that he was here and she wasn’t dead. Her legs still felt unsteady, but it was a huge relief to have her limbs unbound again. She held Kavenski’s gaze in silence, keeping her eyes off the limp figure on the floor, not wanting to think about if he was unconscious or…worse.
“Is that a bread knife?” Kavenski’s question made her jump, his words abnormally loud after the long, tense silence.
She glanced down at the knife in her hands, still outstretched in front of her. He was right. Her weapon was a bread knife. Although the serrated edge had been sharp enough to cut her zip ties, the tip wasn’t even pointed. It curved into a harmless half circle that would be dangerous only to defenseless loaves of bread. “Yes.” The word came out as a sad little croak, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “It was the only thing available.” She gestured toward the drawer she’d found it in. “The kitchen isn’t very well stocked.”
His eyes closed for several seconds, his face unreadable, and Cara wished she could hear his thoughts. On paper, he didn’t seem like a guy she should trust, but this was the second—possibly third—time he’d saved her life. It was no wonder she wanted to throw herself into his burly arms and take comfort against his rock-hard chest.
She gave her head a small shake, needing to knock her brain back to normal.
“Let’s go,” he said before she could straighten out the tangle of her thoughts. “More will be coming.”
“More?” The word came out as a groan, even as she crossed the cabin toward Kavenski. “How many kidnappers are there?”
“Too many,” he answered grimly, waving her toward the door. “Abbott can afford an army.”
She made a wide circle around the unconscious man, horror-movie images flashing through her mind. A part of her was certain that just when she relaxed, he’d reach out and grab her ankle. The thought made her shiver. It was as if Kavenski’d had the same thought, since he yanked the other man’s hands behind his back and secured them with a zip tie he’d pulled out of his pocket.
As she watched him secure the man’s legs next, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s with everyone having such a ready supply of zip ties?”
He glanced up, the corner of his mouth tucking in. That expression was becoming familiar, but she still wasn’t sure if it hid irritation or amusement. “Don’t you?”
“Maybe I should.” She’d definitely decided to carry a pocketknife and an extra cell phone and to possibly invest in a medical alert bracelet like Norah wore…and maybe start hauling around a gun and some hand grenades.
Giving the last zip tie around the man’s ankles a final tug, Kavenski frisked him, removing a cell phone and a folded knife from the unconscious stranger’s pockets. He straightened and gestured toward the door, his gaze running up and down her body in a way that was both clinical and intensely intimate. “You injured?”
“No.” She glanced down at herself. So much adrenaline was running through her that she wasn’t positive she’d feel it if one of her legs fell off. As she did, her head gave a particularly vicious throb, reminding her of her headache. “Just a little groggy. They shot me up with some kind of sedative twice—at least twice.” She shivered as she corrected herself. The thought of being injected with something while she was unconscious was somehow even worse than being aware of when the needle went in.
Stepping forward, he cupped her jaw and gently turned her face up until her startled gaze met his. His other hand covered her eyes for several seconds, blocking the light long enough for Cara to start feeling awkward. He dropped that hand but kept the one cradling her face as he studied her eyes. She stared back, knowing he was checking to see if her pupils were reacting, but still feeling her stomach twist with familiar attraction and something dangerously close to affection. His eyes softened, his gaze warming as he went from studying her pupils to actually looking at her. His fingers stroked over her cheek, just the smallest movement, but filled with such unexpected tenderness that her legs went shaky again—but not from fear or adrenaline this time.
When he finally released her, she couldn’t hold in a disappointed sigh. Even though she knew it was not an optimal time for them to be gazing into each other’s eyes, she still missed the feel of his hand against her face.
“I’m okay, then?” she managed to ask, pretending the quaver in her voice was caused by the close call with death and not his touch.
He gave a slight lift of his chin, which she took as an affirmative. Her skin still felt chilled with the absence of his warm hand, but she pushed away the sensation. Now wasn’t the time to get all stupid over a guy—especially this guy.
“You’ll live,” he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a small bottle of ibuprofen. Popping off the lid, he shook two tablets onto his palm and held them out to her.
She accepted them with a wry smile. “You got your own?”
He rewarded her with one of his barely-there smiles. Despite the situation, the sight of it warmed her insides. Reminding herself that now was not the time to get mushy over Kavenski, she focused on the tablets in her hand. Her mouth was cottony enough that she knew she wouldn’t be able to take them dry, so she hurried back to the kitchen sink. There was a clank and groan after she turned on the faucet, but the water that flowed out looked clear. Putting the pills in her mouth, she cupped her hands and drank, only realizing how thirsty she was when the water hit her dry throat.
“Let’s go. I’ve got water in the car,” Kavenski urged, and she forced herself to turn off the tap and follow him through the front door. She couldn’t help glancing back at the bound kidnapper, unable to trust that he wouldn’t break his zip ties and surge up to attack them like some sort of supervillain.
With her attention on the immobile body, Cara crashed right into Kavenski’s back. Grabbing handfuls of his coat, she regained her balance, peering around his broad form to see why he’d stopped in the middle of the porch. Her hopes when she’d looked out the back window were immediately crushed. There wasn’t any sign of civilization in this direction, either. The scrubby grassland stretched in all directions, only stopping at the distant mountain peaks. A half-collapsed barn fifty feet away was the only structure besides the cabin. Cara followed Kavenski’s narrowed gaze and saw a cloud of something hovering right above the ground in the distance.
“Is that smoke?” she asked in a low voice. The tension on his face made her nervous.
“Dust.”
It took a moment for his one-word answer to register. “Oh! A car?”
“Three.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “Coming this way?” He didn’t answer, but then he didn’t need to. She could tell that the dust cloud kicked up by the vehicles was getting closer. Dragging her gaze away from the incoming cars, she scanned the more immediate vicinity. “Where’s your car?”
“There.” He jerked his head toward the collapsing barn before taking the porch steps in one long-legged step. Pulling out the phone he’d just taken off the kidnapper, he chucked it far away from the cabin without breaking stride. “Hurry.”
Cara trotted after him as he picked up the pace to a jog. Her gaze kept drifting over to lock on the approaching vehicles, and her stocking toes kept catching on tufts of rough grass while small rocks bit into the soles of her feet. She forced her attention back to her footing and just missed stepping on a small, round cactus the size of a tennis ball.
Even though she avoided getting a foot full of spines, she gave a small yelp as she dodged.
“What’s wrong?” Twisting to look over his shoulder, Kavenski focused on her feet and seemed to take in the situation in less than a second. He turned, scooped her up so she was folded over his shoulder, and then started running for the old barn again. The shock of suddenly being flipped upside down took her breath away. It took three strides before she processed what had happened, that he’d tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.
The hard wedge of muscle smacked into her solar plexus. Even factoring in the possibility of more cacti, Cara was pretty sure that being carried this way was more uncomfortable than continuing to run in her socks would’ve been. Mentally, she chided herself for being whiny. Just appreciate the ride. Besides, he runs faster than you could without shoes.
The worst part was that she couldn’t see anything. Pushing away from his back a little, she twisted her neck and managed to spot the dust cloud. It had transformed into three SUVs that were approaching too quickly for comfort, and Cara suddenly didn’t mind the jolting. From her angle, she couldn’t see any part of the barn, so she had no idea if they were even close.
Kavenski abruptly stopped and hauled her off his shoulder, setting her on her feet with more speed than finesse. She automatically took a step back to catch her balance, but it wasn’t needed. His firm grip on her hips didn’t ease until she was steady. As soon as she wasn’t wobbling, he turned to shove open a small door in the side of the barn—or what used to be a door, at least. The boards were worn, and several had worked free of their nails, leaning drunkenly to the side. The wood cracked as Kavenski forced it in enough to allow him to step inside.
“We’re going inside?” When Kavenski had indicated that his car was by the barn, she hadn’t expected it to actually be inside. The place looked like a stiff breeze could send the whole thing crashing down around them. “Is that safe?”
He gave her a look, and she made a face as she stepped through the narrow opening after him. The usual barn smells of hay and manure were faint, overtaken by the odor of dust and disuse. Patches of the roof were gone, allowing in a considerable amount of light, and the aging wooden siding had shrunk, creating wide cracks in the walls. The car parked inside looked out of place, too new and clean and modern to belong in this ancient building.
“Yes, I know that it’s silly to worry about being crushed to death by a collapsing barn when there’s a whole convoy of bad guys coming, but it’s still a valid concern.”
He dipped his chin slightly, as if giving her the point, before turning his back toward her. “Climb up.”
It only took a second for his command to click in her brain. He wanted her to climb him. Swallowing an inappropriately timed giggle born of terror, she obediently put her hands on his thick shoulders and hopped onto his back. He caught her thighs as she wrapped her legs and arms around him, careful to keep her grip around his neck loose so she didn’t choke him.
He made his way quickly to the car, carefully picking through the junk that littered the floor. When she heard the soles of his boots crunching against who-knew-what, she gripped him a little tighter, grateful he hadn’t made her walk through the mess in her socks.
“Did they see us run in here?” she asked, her voice low, trying to hear over her thundering heart. She kept expecting to run out of fear, to go numb from her constant state of terror, but it hadn’t happened yet.
His shoulders lifted, pressing against her arms. “Not sure, but I’m assuming the worst.”
“What are they doing here?” She was still whispering as he set her down by the passenger seat. “It was only two guys up until now—at least when I was awake.” The correction reminded her of all the terrible things that could’ve happened when she was unconscious, but she forced away the mental images. It wasn’t the time to dwell on that, not when she needed to keep her brain functioning. She couldn’t dissolve into a terrified puddle until they were safe.
“I wasn’t where I was supposed to be,” he said, incredibly unhelpfully. “Get in.”
She pulled open the passenger side door and climbed inside. Twisting around, she watched as he started opening the oversize sliding door. After sliding only three feet, the door stopped, the warped wood not wanting to move. Cara opened the car door, intending to get out and help push. Before she could leave the car, a sharp crack rang out. A chunk of wood right next to Kavenski’s head disappeared, leaving another hole for sunshine to creep through. Cara flinched, her head jerking back against the seat. Someone had just shot at them.
Sprinting back to the vehicle, Kavenski dove into the driver’s seat, starting the car and slamming it into reverse before Cara could blink. She yanked her door closed, still stunned at the close call. If Kavenski had just been inches to the left, his head would’ve been blown off. Her heart wrenched at the thought.
“Seat belt,” he snapped, and she grabbed the strap automatically, yanking it across her body and clicking the buckle into place. She started to ask what the plan was. Before she could say anything, a small cylindrical object flew over the car, landing on the hood with a light thunk before rolling toward the front. Even though she’d never seen one before, she immediately knew what it was.
A hand grenade.
“Hang on,” Kavenski said grimly, and Cara grabbed for the dash, even as her practical brain told her that clinging to a bit of plastic wasn’t going to help her—not if they were blown up by a freaking hand grenade. Cara felt a surreal sense of unreality as her gaze locked on the innocuous-looking object—one that could blow them to bits in less than a second.
The car tore backward, leaving the grenade to fall to the ground, and crashed through the mostly closed doors behind them. Cara yelped, squeezing her eyes closed and then immediately snapping them open again, not wanting to see but still needing to. The impact brought the rest of the wall down, ancient boards splintering, destroyed chunks raining down on the car like a merciless wooden hailstorm.
The tires bumped over the remains of the door as the car flew backward, giving Cara a clear view of the barn’s collapse. The entire front of the building sagged, seeming to droop in slow motion before crumbling into a jagged pile of broken lumber.
“Head down!” Kavenski bellowed, reaching out to shove her face down toward her knees. Cara curled up as well as she could with her seat belt on, just as she heard a sharp crack and hiss. Needing to know what had just happened, she glanced up and saw the hole in the windshield, cobwebbed cracks radiating out from that center nucleus.
The car skidded as it rotated, and Cara swallowed a shriek, her terrified gaze shooting toward Kavenski. His stony expression was weirdly soothing, and she took a tiny bit of hope in the determined set of his mouth. This was not a man who was going to let himself be blown up, and she was lucky enough to be in the passenger seat of his car.
He shifted gears, and the car tore forward, jerking at the abrupt change of direction. “Head down,” he ordered again, and she ducked back into her curled position, her forehead just above her knees.
Then the whole world exploded.
The back window shattered as a world-shaking boom seemed to fill her head, so loud and all-encompassing that she felt the shock through her whole body. They flew forward as if a giant had shot them out of a slingshot, flinging them impossibly fast across the rough terrain. Cara clutched the seat by her knees, her teeth clenched so tightly that pain radiated up to her temples. For the first time, she wasn’t at all tempted to look up. She could feel what was happening, and it wasn’t anything good.
Wind rushed through the car, howling, the sound competing with the roar of the rapidly growing fire behind them. The whole world was lit up in an inferno of red and orange. Although Cara knew they were alive, it still felt like they’d been caught in the center of the explosion, and how could anyone have lived through that? It was hard to believe that they’d made it through intact, and she stared down at her body, needing to see physical evidence of her survival.
She blinked at her knees, taking stock of each body part. Her sore face and lingering headache—as well as a few stinging or sore parts—proved that she hadn’t died. She took a deep breath, the first real one since the grenade had hit their car, and let it out slowly, allowing herself a second to relax with relief. With what felt like a huge effort, she unlocked her neck muscles enough to turn her head and check on Kavenski.
To her shock, he looked…the same, grim and ferociously determined to get them to safety. Except for a scratch beading blood on his cheek, he didn’t appear any different than he had before their world exploded. She felt a surge of gratitude that he’d come for her, that he’d risked his life over and over to save her own.
His jaw muscles were still locked tight, but he was in one glorious piece. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching her trembling hand toward him, needing tactile evidence that her mind wasn’t making this up, that he—and she—had both survived. Her trembling fingers touched his forearm, and the feel of his clenched muscles made the entire thing seem real. All her breath left her in a rush that made her head spin.
At her touch, his gaze darted toward her quickly before returning to whatever was in front of them. “You okay?” His voice was gruff, but the obvious concern made her smile.
“I think?” She sounded just as she figured anyone would after so many near-death experiences in less than fourteen or so hours. “Unless I’m dead, and you’re just my ride to the afterlife.”
His rough chuckle sounded as if it had been torn out of him. “Doubt we’d be going to the same place, sweetheart.”
As crazy and terrifying as their current situation was, Cara still laughed. The sharp pop of another crack appearing in the windshield cut her off. Twisting around in her seat, she saw that the rear windshield had shattered and collapsed on itself, only the film lining the glass keeping the pieces from separating. Wind tore through the opening along with a thick cloud of dust, and she coughed as she tried to peer through the dirt fog the wheels were kicking up. Vaguely, she could make out the shapes of at least two vehicles much too close behind them.
“They’re behind us,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the wind. “About sixty feet back.” Turning back around, she examined the front windshield, happy to see that most of the damage was on the passenger side. Although there were some cracks on the driver’s side, it wasn’t enough to limit Kavenski’s field of vision.
He gave a grunt in acknowledgment, but his attention remained focused ahead of them. Although the ground had appeared flat when she was looking from the cabin, it wasn’t anything like a road—not even a dirt one. The car dipped and lurched, knocking Cara’s teeth together when it flew over a particularly deep hole. She clung to the door handle, trying to keep from turning around to stare at their pursuers. There was a thump right as a hole appeared in the dashboard just a few inches to her left.
“Get down,” Kavenski ordered, and she curled over once again as the reality of what had just happened struck her. A bullet had buried itself in the dash right next to her.
“They’re really determined not to let us get away, aren’t they?” she asked, her words muffled by her position. She was glad for that, since it hid the shake in her voice.
“Yeah, they are. Get on the floor.”
She released the seat belt before wedging herself into a ball in the foot well, trying to make her body as small a target as possible. It was hard to keep her head down, though. The thought of Kavenski being unprotected and vulnerable was unbearable, and his concern for her safety made it worse.
“Want me to drive?” she called out. She’d be terrified, but at least she wasn’t the size of a linebacker. Even not curled into a ball, she’d make a smaller target, one that would—hopefully—be harder for the men behind them to hit.
“No.” The car jerked to the right suddenly, and Cara swallowed a startled yelp. Before she could recover her breath, they changed directions again, swerving to the left this time. She braced herself the best she could as the quick turns continued.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive?” she yelled, smacking her head on the underside of the dash as they hit a bump big enough to launch the car into the air. When the wheels touched down, Cara thumped her head again.
“No. Quit micromanaging.” Except for an almost undetectable tightness in his voice, he sounded much too calm for the situation. His even tone, just loud enough for her to hear over the wind and engine noise, made everything—the chasing and shooting and the bullet hole in the dash—seem surreal. She peeked up, raising her head just enough to get a glimpse of him, needing to see that he was fine and bullet-hole free. Without turning his head, he ordered, “Stay down.”
She subsided, figuring that it would be good for at least one of them to remain uninjured. Mentally, she rehearsed what she’d do if he was shot. Would it be easier to shove him to the side and take over at the wheel, or just sit on his lap?
The car continued to swerve, so Cara kept herself braced. The deliberate turns reassured her that he was still in one piece, although she stayed tense, expecting at any second for a bullet to hit him.
Her stomach swooped as the car dipped down and then up again before making a hard left. She held her breath as the rear tires skidded sideways. She expected them to spin out, giving their pursuers time to catch up—or at least to get close enough to shoot more accurately. Kavenski somehow managed to wrestle the vehicle back into a straight line. As they accelerated, Cara heard the distinctive ping of gravel hitting the car’s underbelly, and her head popped up.
“We’re on a road?” For some reason, her heart leapt in hope. A road meant civilization, which meant more people and law enforcement and not being outnumbered by the bad guys who were trying to kill them.
“Yes. Stay down.” His huge hand covered the back of her head, encouraging her to tuck back into her small ball. The gesture should’ve seemed oppressive, but it felt oddly reassuring. He gave her back a light pat as he withdrew, and that was more comforting than it should’ve been.
Now that they were on the gravel road, they traveled even faster in more of a straight line, following occasional curves in the road, but without any of the swerving from earlier.
“You okay? You’re not hit, are you?” she asked, needing to raise her voice even louder than before. Their increased speed meant that the air rushing through the car was even more thunderous.
“I’m good.” This answer was as matter-of-fact as his others, but there was a warm edge to it that made her want to examine his face. She resisted the urge and kept her head tucked down.
“Good.” Her words sounded rough, even to her own ears. “Are they still right behind us?”
“Not right behind.”
Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring. “Do you have a destination in mind, or are we just getting away?”
“There’s a town about fifteen miles from here. I’ll drop you there.”
Her head shot up so she could glare at him. “You’re going to dump me in some random mountain town while you face Abbott and his guys alone?”
“Down.” Cara tucked back into a protected ball as he continued, completely ignoring her indignant question. Obviously, he was determined to play the martyred hero while she hid like a coward. “There’s a police station there. You’ll be safe. You can make a report and then call your sisters.”
“My sisters!” Her stomach lurched at the reminder. They could be following her trail into danger right this moment. “Do you have a cell phone on you?”
“A little busy right now.” The car’s tires slid across loose gravel as he rounded a curve. “Let me get us clear, and then you can use it.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Despite their own life-threatening situation, she was almost more frantic with worry about her sisters. She’d been so preoccupied with escaping that she hadn’t even thought about them putting themselves into danger. She knew her sisters. They’d risk their lives in a second trying to save her. “What if they track me to the cabin?”
“How would they manage that?” he asked.
“You did, and they’re wily about finding people. It’s their job.” The more they talked about it, the more certain she was that her sisters were just a few steps behind her—and about to jump right into the hornets’ nest she’d left behind.
“Even if they do find the cabin, they should be safe enough. Most of Abbott’s men are still chasing us.”
“Oh.” All the wind had been taken out of her sails. “Well, that’s…good, I suppose?” Her own words made her laugh. “Guess we found the silver lining.”
“Guess so.” Although Cara couldn’t see his face, she was pretty sure he was smiling.