wooden columns on the porch.
He was taking fire from at least three locations. Bullets peppered the column, splintering pieces of wood in all directions. Mia looked frantically toward where the shots were coming from, searching for a target she could aim for.
She raised the pistol, holding it steady in both hands. When she saw one of the gunmen edge around the side of the house, she squeezed off a shot. He dropped to the ground.
“Take that, motherfucker,” Mia muttered.
“Mia, goddamn it. I told you to get the hell out of here,” Jack shouted.
“Tough shit,” she said under her breath.
She jumped as a bullet plowed through the hedge just above her head. She scooted back and returned fire, blindly, moving her hand from side to side.
She heard a thump then found herself propelled backward as Jack pulled her out of the bushes. He rolled down the hill, taking her with him.
Pain sliced through her body. Dirt filled her mouth, and her hair caught on sticks and rocks as they bumped and slid to a stop in the ditch.
Gunshots peppered the ground around them, and she heard Jack let out a curse of pain. He yanked her against his body and rolled her underneath him.
His heart hammered against her chest, and his breath came in ragged spurts. But he didn’t stop. He yanked her up when they reached the stone fence surrounding the estate. It was only about five feet high, but getting over it without getting shot would be tricky.
Jack didn’t give her time to contemplate just how they would accomplish the feat. He simply picked her up and shoved her over. She landed in a heap, and seconds later, Jack fell beside her amidst the sound of gunfire. He dragged her further down the incline until they landed in the ditch by the road.
“Jack, are you shot?” she asked.
He didn’t answer right away so she shoved at him.
“Be still,” he ordered. “Give me a minute.”
They lay there a few more seconds in the deep ditch, the ground hard beneath her back. Finally he eased off of her, rolling to the side.
“We’re going to run for the woods. If we can get deep enough, we can lose them.”
The thought of running through deep woods, barefooted and half-naked, frightened her. But then the idea of staying put and being shot was even scarier.
Jack rose with difficulty, and it was then she felt a drop of blood splash onto her face. Jack’s blood.
“You are hit,” she whispered.
“It’s just a scratch,” he said. “Come on, let’s go before they make it down with searchlights.”
Hand in hand, they ran for the cover of the trees across the road. They plunged into the dense thicket and ran blindly through the underbrush.
After what seemed forever, Jack slowed.
“We need to find a place to hide and regroup.”
His voice sounded strained, as if he were in pain. A flash of panic speared Mia’s stomach. What if he was badly wounded? There was no way she could get them both out of the woods safely.
They settled for a deep ravine, nearly dry since there had been no recent rainfall. They slid down the embankment and leaned against the hard dirt wall.
“Where were you hit?” Mia demanded as she ran her hands over his body.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said shortly. “Are you okay?”
He gripped her shoulders in his hands and pulled her up against his chest.
She yanked away. “I’m fine, Jack. Thanks to you. Now tell me where you’re hit, damn it.”
“My arm,” he said. “It’s just a graze. Don’t even think the bullet penetrated.”
She reached up, feeling her way in the darkness. His upper arm was wet and sticky with blood. Using her thumb, she gently felt for the wound. He winced when she slid over the gash.
“Sorry.”
He raised his free hand up to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m sorry for what you had to go through.”
Her cheeks grew hot. How could she possibly explain to him that what should have been the most humiliating experience of her life had been the most sexually fulfilling one? As much as it shamed her to admit, she’d forgotten everything once Jack had touched her. Forgotten they were being watched, that she was going to be sold like a piece of real estate.
For the space of a few stolen moments, she’d been his.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess.”
“And I want to hear all about it as soon as we get out of this mess alive.”
A knot formed in her throat. How would he react when he found out what she’d been arrested for? She felt more shame over that than she did stripping or any of the things she’d been forced to do since her arrest. Jack would never understand.
“I think the bleeding has slowed down,” she said. The blood felt thicker and stickier against her hand. “I wish I had something to wrap your arm in so it wouldn’t get dirt in it.”
“Too late,” he said. “Besides between the two of us, we don’t have a lot in the way of clothing.”
There was a hint of humor in his dry tones, and she laughed. She put her hand over her mouth to quell the sound, but the laughter turned to an almost hysterical sound.
God, get it together for Pete’s sake. This was no time to act like a freaking girly girl. They were being chased and shot at, and the last thing Jack needed was a weak twit.
She stifled the last of the desperate sounds, nearly choking as she swallowed them back. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for a long moment.
“We should go. I need to get to a phone. I called one of my buddies with the Rangers before I went to get you. We can’t trust anyone in this town, particularly the local cops.”
“Tell me about it,” Mia said under her breath.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked as he stood to his full height.
“No,” she lied.
She had numerous cuts and bruises. Knew her leg was bleeding, but it was nothing life threatening, and she didn’t need him worrying about her when their priority was finding a way to elude their pursuers.
“Which way?” she asked.
“We’ll follow the ravine,” he said. “We can move quieter since the bottom is sandy and rocky.”
Not to mention how much easier it would be on their feet.
When they’d traveled a half mile or so down the deep ditch, an idea struck Mia. She put her hand out to Jack and stopped in her tracks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.
“Jack, I know where we can go. I have a friend. He lives in the next county, and his buddy is a sheriff’s deputy there. We can trust them. Maybe they can help us until your people get here.”
“Just who is this friend?” Jack asked. “And how do you know we can trust him?”
“His name is Ryder. His buddy’s name is Mac. We used to spend a lot of time together. Mac isn’t active duty because he was injured awhile back. They’re supposed to leave town soon, but when I spoke to Ryder a few days ago, he said they weren’t leaving for a week.”
“Is he the big biker dude by chance?” Jack asked dryly.
Mia glanced over at him in the darkness, trying to get a read on his expression. “How do you know what he looks like?”
“I saw you with him that first night. At the bar.”
“He came to say good-bye,” she said softly. “He’s been a good friend to me.”
“The question is how we get to these friends of yours,” he cut in.
“Ryder gave me his cell number. If we could reach a phone, we could call him and he could come get us. If Mac came with him, the local cops wouldn’t be suspicious.”
“Which means we still have to find a phone,” Jack pointed out. “Which we aren’t going to do standing here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah,” Mia muttered as Jack took off in front of her again.
She foll
owed behind him as they trekked further into the woods. The ravine narrowed in places, and in some areas it held water. They sloshed through the mud, and Mia was grateful they couldn’t see. She didn’t want to know what they were stepping on or around.
“I see a light up ahead,” Jack called back in a quiet voice. “Might be a main road or maybe a business.”
He reached back and caught her hand in his. The small gesture made her pulse race, this time not from adrenaline-laced fear. She felt safe, as ridiculous as it seemed. When he touched her, she felt as if nothing could hurt her.
They crept closer toward the distant twinkle. The ravine widened, and water crept up to their ankles. A distant rumble echoed, and Jack yanked her down, his body hovering protectively over hers.
“It’s a car,” he whispered. “We came out by a road.”
They waited as the sound drew closer. It grew louder as it passed in front of them and then began to recede in the distance.
Jack slowly got up. “Stay here just a minute. Let me take a look around.”
Mia huddled in the water, shivering, not from cold, but from fatigue as the last of her adrenaline-induced high faded.
A few minutes later, Jack slid down the bank of the ravine and put his hands around her shoulders.
“There’s a house about a half mile across the field. No one’s home that I can tell. If we’re lucky, there’s a phone there we can use.”
“And maybe some clothes I can steal,” she muttered.
Jack helped her up the steep embankment, and they staggered the short distance to the gravel road.
“We need to hurry. Can you make it?” he asked.
“Let’s go,” she said by way of answering.
They ran across the road and into the field. A single dusk-to-dawn light illuminated their path, and as they crossed into the ditch on the other side, she glanced at the leaning mailbox next to the long winding driveway. She committed the address and the county road number to heart before running as fast as she could to catch up with Jack.
The rocks dug painfully into the soles of her feet. Warm blood ran freely down her leg, and sharp thorns slapped at her knees. Cramps rippled up her sides, knotting under her ribs, robbing her of breath.
They circled to the back of the run-down house. An old, beat-up car was parked in a garage in the back, and a single lamp shone from one of the windows of the house.
“Do you think anyone’s home?” she whispered.
Jack squatted behind the garage and caught his breath. “I’ll need to get a closer look. I need to get in touch with Kenny and give him some more information. I don’t want him coming in blind, but it’s probably better to do that once we’ve hooked up with your cop friend.”
“So what do we do?” she asked.
“Hope no one’s home,” Jack said. “Come on. We’re not getting anywhere by sitting out here.”
They hurried toward the back door. Jack drew his gun and pressed himself flat against the house. He peered into the window and motioned for her to keep still.
“There’s no one in the kitchen. The rest of the house is dark. They’re either gone or asleep. I see a cordless phone on the counter. Wait here. I’m going to go in and get it. You can use it out here.”
Mia held her breath as Jack tested the door. To her relief, it wasn’t locked, and it opened noiselessly. He disappeared inside, and she gripped the gun tighter.
Two minutes later, he returned, phone in hand. He gestured for her to follow him the short distance to the garage.
“We can hide here while you make the call,” he said as he thrust the receiver into her hand.
CHAPTER 12
The dusk-to-dawn light over the garage cast a pale glow over their hiding place adjacent to the old building, and Jack listened as Mia spoke in low tones over the telephone. It chapped his ass to have to ask Biker Boy for help, but he also knew he didn’t stand much of a chance of getting him and Mia out of this alive without it.
He was injured and so was she. He’d noticed the blood down her leg as well as the other numerous cuts and bruises. But she’d never complained. Not once. He’d underestimated her.
What had happened to her in the hours she’d spent before he’d come for her? He wanted Drake. Wanted to kill him for daring to touch Mia. He just prayed that he’d arrived in time to spare her any harsh treatment at Drake’s hands.
Mia turned around, the phone in her hand. “They’re coming for us,” she said softly.
“How long?” Jack asked.
“Thirty minutes maybe,” she said with a shrug.
“Come here,” he directed.
She walked into his arms, and he pulled her tightly against him. Then he turned her around and tugged up her shirt. His hands smoothed over her body, searching for injuries, reassuring himself that she was okay. After he rotated her back around, he caught her wrists in his hands and frowned at the chafing he saw. Rope burns. He bent his neck and kissed the inside of each wrist.
“What did they do to you?” he asked hoarsely.
She looked earnestly up at him, her blue eyes shining in the dim light. “Just what you see,” she said. “Nothing else.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, Mia. Sorry for what I had to do. I can only hope you don’t hate me when all of this is over with.”
She curled her arms around his neck. Her small body melted into his, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. He loved the way she fit against him. So soft and sweet.
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered.
He held her tightly, stroking her matted hair. “You should. What I did was unforgivable.”
To his surprise, she pulled away then slowly pressed her lips to his. Featherlight, so soft and achingly sweet. He didn’t move, afraid to ruin the moment. Instead, he let her dictate the action.
“You saved me,” she said against his lips. “How can that be unforgivable?”
He stared at her for a long second. She surprised him at every turn. He’d always viewed her as delicate. In need of taking care of. It was a role he was suited to play. This new look at her unsettled him. Maybe she didn’t need him as much as he’d always liked to think. Far from being weak, she had a thread of steel woven into her deceptively fragile-looking exterior.
Maybe he needed her. And that disturbed him.
“We should get out of here before the owners return home,” he said. “We can wait in the ravine again. It’s deep enough that we can’t be seen from the road.”
She curled her hand trustingly into his, and they crept across the field, staying low to the ground. When they reached the road, he looked left and right then shoved Mia forward. They ran as fast as they could to the other side and slid haphazardly down into the gully.
He collected her in his arms and held her as they waited. After several long minutes, he asked, “What does your friend drive?”
“A red Dodge truck,” she replied. “They’re good people, Jack,” she said as though sensing his hesitation to trust complete strangers.
“Yeah, well, let’s hope your cop friend isn’t in league with the cops here.”
“He’s not,” she said simply.
As the minutes wore on, she slumped in his arms, her body wilting against his. He stroked her head and kissed the back of her neck. His arm hurt like hell, but at least the bleeding had slowed to a trickle. A good cleaning and a bandage and he’d be fine. It was Mia he worried about. He hadn’t been able to do more than a cursory inspection of her injuries in the dim light by the garage.
When he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, he tensed.