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Jordan fell headfirst through the mist surrounding her, but she sensed the darkness below. Continually bumped and jostled by things she couldn’t see, apprehension gripped her. Abruptly, something firm yet soft broke her fall, and air whooshed from her lungs. She scrambled to get her feet beneath her and stand, but the weight on her chest held her down.
“Lay still, or you’re going to lose your lunch.” The voice was low and close to her ear.
Holy crap, who is that? Instinctively, she tried to roll away, but a hand on her shoulder pressed her back. The movement started her head throbbing.
“I said lay still.”
Travis? Why was he here?
Like opening floodgates, memories bombarded her. I was lost, and three men gave me a ride. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She’d almost gotten away. One of them had pulled a gun, and she’d froze, sure he would kill her. But Travis had stepped in front of her. Relief had flooded her for a second, foolishly believing he would save her. Instead, he’d hit her.
Her jaw throbbed where his blow had landed, but so did the rest of her body. She cracked her eyelids open and warily followed his movements as Travis spread a blanket over her and tucked in the edges as though she were an upside-down burrito. She stiffened at his touch and twisted around to knock his hands away, but her efforts were weak, and he ignored her. Waves of nausea engulfed her, and she curled into a fetal position, determined not to let him be right.
Gentle hands brushed the hair away from her face and pressed a cool rag to her brow. She shivered, and Travis pulled the blanket around her again. This time she didn’t protest.
Jordan squinted to focus on the man whose kindness seemed out of character. She hadn’t mistaken his broad shoulders moving toward her from the shadows, positioning himself between Kyle’s gun and her. Was he there to rescue her from Kyle again? She’d believed it was true for a heartbeat, but he’d proved her wrong.
He touched a tender spot on her jaw, and she winced. “Sorry about that, but at least it’s not broken.”
Jordan snorted derisively. “What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?”
Travis’s hesitation was barely noticeable, and he covered it so quickly that Jordan was left wondering if it had been her imagination. “I don’t want anything. Believe it or not, I’m trying to keep you alive and in one piece, and you’re not making it easy. What the hell were you doing out there?”
Was that regret in his sigh of frustration? She had to know, even at the risk of him confiding in Brody. “Will you help me?”
He started to say something but stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps. Kyle’s thin face appeared through the tent flap. “Hey man, how long does it take? Brody wants to see us.”
“Coming.” Travis held her gaze for a second longer, then rose and started toward the open tent flap. He turned back before ducking through the opening, a scowl masking his face. “Stay put, and don’t do anything stupid.” Any sign of gentleness or remorse had disappeared.
If Jordan could have reached something to throw, she would have flung it at his retreating backside. He’d done it again—making her think he was a good guy, but she wouldn’t fall for his act this time. Travis was no different than Brody or Kyle. He was one of them, whatever they were, and she had to remember that no matter what he said. The forcefulness of her anger teased her upset stomach, and she spent the next few minutes lying motionless with a wet washrag over her face.
Don’t do anything stupid? That ship’s already sailed. When she’d gotten in the pickup with Alex yesterday, it was as though she’d set her brain on standby. She should have returned to the pickup before he started tracking the wounded deer. What did she think was going to happen when he found the animal? And who wanders so far afield in the wilderness that they get turned around and can’t find their way back? But this—climbing in a vehicle with these three jackasses was the capper. She couldn’t top that if she tried.
Fear edged its way through her frustration. What were they going to do with her? They could kill her and leave her body up here in the mountains for the birds and wild animals, and no one would ever find her. Not that I have any family that would come looking. Alex and Liam were the only people who knew where she was, and, well...they didn’t really know...did they? She’d told her best friends, Katie and Liz, that she was going for an all-day drive in the Ochocos with Alex, but they wouldn’t realize she was missing until she didn’t show up for work on Monday. And the Ochoco Mountains encompassed over 1,800 square miles. Where would they even start to look for her?
This situation just keeps getting worse.
Jordan forced herself to a sitting position. No amount of self-flogging would change the decisions she’d already made. What happened next was the vital step, her priority being to get away from her kidnappers. She could identify them, and it would be naïve to believe they would simply let her go. If she wanted to survive, there could be no more dumb choices.
She sat straighter, slipped her hands in her coat pockets, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still there—the pocketknife she’d scorned yesterday. Its sharp, serrated blade, designed to open quickly and silently with one hand, stirred some measure of confidence. The idea of stabbing another human being sent a shudder through her body. Could she cut someone if it was life or death? Or worse? Oh yeah, I’ll find a way.
Her nausea had subsided, so Jordan pushed to her feet, every muscle in her body objecting. Hours of walking with little food and no sleep had left her limbs weak and dead-tired. The first order of business was finding sustenance.
Four walls of dark green canvas imprisoned her, twenty feet long and ten or twelve feet wide. Where the roof peaked down the center length, it was tall enough for her to stand. Apparently, the sun wasn’t up yet. The only light came from the slice of cloudless blue sky visible through the tent flaps that almost met when the morning breeze stilled. Half the floor was a jumble of blankets barely covering a sleeping bag. Against the far wall, a dozen or so wooden crates leaned. In front of them rested a large duffle bag, and men’s clothing spilled out onto the canvas floor. Jordan hurried across the enclosure. Food. Water. Compass. Her mind ticked off a list of items she needed.
The first crate held liquor, but she hit paydirt with the second one. It contained canned goods, pre-packaged freeze-dried foods, candy bars, trail mix, and energy bars. Ferreting through the contents, she filled her pockets, then stilled at the sound of something heavy clunking against the bottom of the crate.
A gun. Jordan stared, hesitant to touch the weapon but drawn to it nonetheless.
It might save her life, yet she faltered. Her father had taught her to shoot when she was in middle school, and she was actually a pretty good shot. That was the problem. If she picked up the weapon and pointed it at someone, she had to be sure she could pull the trigger. Could she? Kyle’s image popped into her mind, eyes hard, devoid of compassion, staring at her over his gun, raised and ready to fire.
She didn’t realize she’d reached for it until the first touch of cold metal shocked her. Holding it, she slowly turned it over. The 38 Special was a revolver, double-action, hammerless. The press of a button released the cylinder, proving it was empty. Jordan shoved the gun into the inside pocket of her coat and bent over the box again. The weapon was of no use without ammunition. It has to be here.
Voices intruded into the stillness of the tent, sending a chill through her as she whirled to face the flap. Patrick Brody ducked through the opening a second later and stopped to let his gaze sweep over her. Jordan returned his bold stare with open hostility. He glanced cursorily around the tent, hesitating on the crates at her feet, before drawing his gaze slowly upward, coming to rest on her face.
He seemed taller and broader than he had last night. Long, dark hair, pulled back and tied behind his head, topped off his six-foot height. Thirty-something with flinty blue eyes, a strong jaw, and ripped muscles, he advanced toward her.
His smug expression told her he knew she’d found the gun and didn’t care. She could stop looking for ammo because there wouldn’t be any to find in this tent. Jordan forced herself to meet his gaze, bracing for him to erupt in violence.
A few seconds of silence ticked by before he laughed and shook his head. “I’m glad you decided to come back. I would have been incredibly disappointed if you’d left without knowing the real me.”
“I don’t want to know you. I just want to go home. Why did you hunt me down like an animal and bring me here?” She eyed him with contempt.
Brody’s expression hardened. With a burst of movement, he closed the distance between them. She retreated a few steps, then tried to slip around him, but he caught a hand in her hair and yanked her against him, anchoring her with a muscled forearm around her midsection.
“Let’s get a few things straight.” He breathed the words next to her ear, holding her head firmly so she couldn’t jerk away. “I don’t care what you want. What matters is that you do exactly as you’re told, quickly and without argument.” He yanked her hair. “Is that clear?”
Angry beyond words, Jordan remained silent. He twisted her hair around his wrist and wrenched her head back. She clamped down on her lip to keep from crying out.
His hot breath slithered along her exposed neck. “Is that clear?”
“Yes.” She bit out the word.
Brody relaxed the grip on her hair, but his arm banded her ribcage, and he pressed his erection into her hip. A groan rumbled in her ear. “We’re going to get to know each other, and I plan to take my time with you. Unless the boys are extra-special well-behaved, I might not even share.”
Jordan shuddered as the slimy wetness of his tongue flicked over her earlobe. She twisted and rammed one of her elbows into his belly with all her strength. He released his hold on her hair, and she stomped on his foot before pivoting to face him. Rage darkened his scowl. He lunged for her, but she was quicker. She ducked out of the way, and he collided with the wooden crates.
“Hey, Brody?” Kyle’s voice called from outside the tent a heartbeat before his head and shoulders filled the opening. He glanced uncertainly from Brody to her and back again.
“What do you want?” Brody stalked toward him, bristling with anger.
“We’ve got company.” Kyle disappeared without another word but not before he threw a knowing smirk and a wink in Jordan’s direction.
Brody strode to the tent flap and peered outside, then turned halfway. “Kyle will be keeping an eye on you. He doesn’t have much respect for women, so try not to piss him off.” His lewd gaze raked her body as he adjusted the bulge at the front of his pants. “You must be exhausted. You might want to get some sleep. You’ll need your strength.”
He’s an animal! Jordan’s heart was about to burst from her chest as she watched the tent flap close behind him. She lacked the strength to fight him off; her only hope was getting out of here. Striding to the opening, she pushed the canvas back just enough to see a narrow strip of the camp. Brody’s back was to her as he paused to speak to Kyle, who stood beside another tent a few feet away. She counted four more tents like the one she was in, dark green canvas shapes tucked beneath trees that rimmed the edge of a small clearing. Camp stoves, dishes, and lawn chairs dotted the ground in front of each tent. Several shirtless men milled around in the clearing as though playing some kind of a game. Beyond them, a giant tent basked in the sunshine.
Engine noise invaded the quiet glade before a four-wheel-drive pickup rolled into view and halted. As Brody approached, the driver opened his door and stepped down from the cab. Tall and slender with light brown hair and a clean-cut look about him, the newcomer wore faded blue jeans and a red flannel shirt, unbuttoned partway to reveal a black turtleneck beneath. Motioning to his passenger, he walked toward the front of the pickup, smiled a greeting to Brody, and extended his hand. Clearly, they knew each other.
Jordan took in the scene with her mouth partway open, the words she would have uttered fading on her tongue.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She hadn’t realized she’d thrown aside the canvas flap and stepped outside until Kyle challenged her. She didn’t stop—couldn’t have if she’d wanted to. Brushing by him, she strode several steps into the clearing before he caught her, grabbed her arm, and dragged her back toward the tent.
“Brody said for you to stay put.”
Jordan bit back her cry of pain as his hand closed around her injured wrist. She tried to pry his fingers loose, but he held her fast. Indignation and fury swamped her. “Let. Me. Go!”
The grin that spread across his hawkish face incensed her more. She raised her foot to bring down the heel of her hiking boot onto the instep of his sneaker. It wasn’t her intention for her upraised knee to ram into his balls, but it worked out that way, and she wasn’t sorry.
Kyle sucked in his breath sharply, released her wrist, and bent double. Her foot came down exactly where she’d aimed with all the force she could muster. He dropped to his knees and let out a howl.
Jordan swung back to the two friends, now walking side by side toward the clearing. They turned to stare, no doubt alerted by the commotion Kyle had created, and their smiles faded. She tried to speak, but her words wedged in her throat. Fifty feet away, Brody started toward her, anger twisting his features.
Jordan found her voice then, and her desperate cry stopped Brody in his tracks.
“Alex?”