Chapter 4 #2
“What’s your real name? I keep calling you Travis in my head, and I know that’s not who you are.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see better. She could finally make out his shape, at least. His broad frame was hard to miss.
“Luke. I’d offer to shake your hand . . .”
Luke. It fit better. If he was telling the truth, of course. How could she ever believe anything he said? “What the hell happened back there? You owe me that much after I’ve been shot at, forced to get nearly naked, and—”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he rushed out. “You weren’t supposed to be there.”
“You keep saying that, but this is insane.”
“You’re going to be okay.”
His steady voice should’ve reassured her, but how could they possibly be fine after all of this? “I think we’re outnumbered.”
“Once my team realizes you’ve been taken, too, they’ll come get us.” Disappointment wrapped tightly around his words.
“You don’t want them to come for us, though, do you?” Her body grew stiff.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, which trumps whatever was supposed to happen.”
“And what exactly was supposed to happen? Who is Malik? And what USB—or code—do they want?”
A minute of silence swept the cool interior of the truck before he answered. “I can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry.”
“Since these guys think I know half of this code, I ought to be clued in.” She was close to snapping like one of her younger brother’s worn-out guitar strings.
“The less you know, the better, but I promise you’ll be safe soon. Why don’t you try distracting yourself while we wait for an extract?”
“Distract myself?” Tears crept into her eyes.
“And what do you suggest for a distraction? You have a harmonica on you? You want to sing folk songs?” She faked a laugh.
“Right, you’re cuffed to the inside of a truck, and so am I.
I’m thinking there’s nothing that will take my mind off our imminent death. ”
“You’re not gonna die.”
She wished she could see his eyes; she was always good at reading people. “I’m thinking we are. Your so-called team won’t be able to find us because that man took my phone, and, I’m assuming, yours, too.”
“My people are tracking me, don’t worry. They’ll need to wait for the right moment to rescue us. We’re driving in the mountains during a snowstorm, which makes things trickier.”
“How can you be so calm right now?” She shut her eyes. “Are you government? Police? FBI? DEA?”
“Something like that.”
His words had her lifting her chin and opening her eyes. “Okay, so that’s good. Why didn’t you just tell me that?” She arched her back and shifted on her bottom, trying to keep her limbs from going numb. “Your people can outnumber these guys then, right?” She took a sobering breath.
“It’s more about quality than quantity,” he said, his vagueness testing her nerves.
Being in the dark with a stranger and some serious bad guys behind the wheel should’ve broken her; but somehow, she found herself clinging to hope. Without hope, she’d have nothing left, and so . . .
“Why’d you rent my cabin? Why were you bait? Bait for what?” Her questions pinged off the metal walls, and she impatiently waited for his response.
After a minute, he said, “None of that matters. Focus on staying calm. Okay?”
She bit her lip, wishing she could click her heels like Dorothy and be back home right now. “If you really want to provide me with a distraction, at least talk to me. Tell me something. Anything.”
But, of course, he remained quiet.
“I’m screwing something big up, aren’t I?” Sudden guilt tugged at her heart. “Your people are only going to come for us because of me; you wanted to be taken, and so now . . . shit.”
“This isn’t on you. Try not to think about it.”
She shot him a humorless smile, forgetting he wouldn’t be able to see her. “Sure. You told me not to come. You told me to run in the woods . . . so this is my fault.”
“No,” he said firmly, but he didn’t offer more than that.
“If I didn’t ruin your plans, what would’ve happened?” She hung her head, knowing she was wasting her breath. The man probably couldn’t tell her anything if he was part of some three-letter agency.
“Why’d you show up to the cabin?” he asked instead.
“My job finished earlier than expected, so I wanted to come up here. I like the quiet. Being at the cabin always helps cure my writer’s block.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Yeah. I’m a showrunner for a TV series, but I’m also working on a screenplay. I’m stuck on the ending. Of course, you chucked my life’s work over a cliff, and so—”
“You don’t have a backup?”
“Yes, but it’s not going to be the same.”
“Well, what’s your script about?”
“You won’t talk, but you want me to?”
“It’s that or silence. Take your pick.”
“I’m not a fan of talking about myself,” she said softly a few minutes later.
“Neither am I.”
“No surprise there.” Her hands were officially numb, damn it.
“But I wasn’t asking you to talk about yourself. I asked about your script.”
“True.” Movies and TV had always been her entire world.
Films were her comfort zone; even after she’d tried to escape the life, she’d found herself right back in it by working on SEAL Security.
Destined to be, she supposed. “Well, it’s an action movie.
Maybe you’d like it. It involves the FBI hunting down a serial killer. ”
“Not what I expected.”
“Really?” A dark brow arched. “And why is that?” God, she was nearly forgetting where she was right now, her heartbeat even beginning to settle to its normal rhythm. “Do I have to be a guy to write an action movie?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Well, what were you expecting?”
“Something lighter. Happier.”
“I guess looks can be deceiving.”
“You have no idea,” he said in a low voice. “So, uh, what TV show do you work for? And what is a showrunner?”
“A showrunner’s basically a writer and producer. I help come up with storylines, and then I’m on set during filming.” She’d give anything for tonight to have been a scene from the show instead of real life. “Maybe you’ve heard of it. SEAL Security.”
“As in Navy SEALs?” There was a hint of humor in his voice, and it bothered the hell out of her.
“Is that funny to you?” A slip of anger dug into her tone.
“Not funny at all,” he said, but she could hear his smile, even if she couldn’t see it.
“Well, I assure you, the show is very realistic.”
“I’ve never seen it, and I wouldn’t know how true to life it is since I’m a businessman from Charlotte.”
“I, uh—” The truck hit a bump in the road, cutting her off. They fishtailed, giving her a serious case of whiplash. Had she not been tied down, she probably would’ve flown across the truck and landed on his lap.
“That’s them,” Luke said a moment later, his words stealing her breath and catching her off guard. “Tuck your chin to your chest.”
“What? I don’t hear anything.” The truck flipped on its side a second later and her head banged against the wall. She looked up to see Luke hanging above her; his hands must’ve been still anchored to the truck behind his back. That had to hurt . . .
There was no way the cuffs would hold his weight for much longer, though. She jerked her head to the side and closed her eyes when Luke crashed down on top of her.
He looped his arms over her neck, the chain of his cuffs probably broken, and he pulled her in, shielding her with his body.
Her teeth chattered and her limbs vibrated as the truck slid on the road, bouncing from side to side, most likely off the guardrails.
Luke held her tight, her head beneath his chin, as gunfire rippled through the air like the popping of fireworks.
Machine guns or rifles, she wasn’t sure, had her cringing with each blast, worried she’d get hit. The noise intensified, much louder than the props used on set earlier that morning.
Everything happened lightning-fast once the truck finally stopped skidding along the road.
“Don’t move,” Luke said into her ear, as bullets continued to ping the exterior of the vehicle like a tap dancer on speed.
“Not like I can.” Her shoulders flinched with every shot.
The gunfire finally ceased, and a moment later, the sound of the truck door sliding open had her craning her neck to the side and away from Luke’s chest.
Who was there?
Friend or foe? At this point, could she distinguish between the two?
A beam of light shone on her face, causing her to blink and avert her gaze. Luke lifted his hands above her head and shifted into a seated position before her.
“Luke?” It was a male voice, and she had to assume he was a member of the good-guy team.
“Is it over? Are we okay?” The desperation to live, to survive this hell of a night pierced through her words.
“Yeah, it’s over,” the voice answered. “Anyone get hit?” the man asked once before them.
“I’m okay,” she answered, surprised by the fact that no bullet had penetrated the walls of the truck to shred her flesh.
“I’m good,” Luke said.
“I won’t hurt you.” The man began to work at her hands, holding a small flashlight between his teeth.
“Took you long enough,” Luke scoffed as the guy untied her ankles.
“Yeah, well, this was one situation we didn’t account for.” After freeing Eva’s hands and feet, he tossed Luke the flashlight and keys.
Luke worked at the rope binding his legs, then removed the metal bracelets still circling his wrists, the broken chain attached dangling from one of the loops.
Eva shook her arms at her sides, trying to revive the feeling within them, and then Luke took her by the elbow and guided her out of the truck.
Harsh lights met her eyes from the SUV’s high beams positioned opposite of her.
A shriek ripped from her throat when she noticed a dead body in the snow bank off to the side of the road, and she cringed and turned toward Luke, burying her face in his chest.
His hand rubbed up and down the center of her back, the stroke of his fingers, even atop her jacket, somehow soothing her.
“Are they all dead?” she asked, her words probably getting lost against his hard chest.
But he answered, “Not sure. Can you give me a minute? Will you be okay?”
He stepped back, and she peered up at him, the car lights from behind casting a glow around him as if he were some sort of savior. A hero, maybe. “I guess.”
“Stay here and don’t move. Try not to look at anything, either, okay?”
She swallowed the terror that stuck in her throat and managed a nod, then scanned the group of men walking around, dressed in tactical gear. Military-style fatigues and bulletproof vests. They had guns strapped to their legs, and some still had rifles in hand as they scoped out the scene.
Eva spotted one woman amidst the group. She had a ball cap on, but her long hair was in a ponytail, and her eyes were focused on Eva, even though she was speaking to Luke. She spoke what sounded like German, and Luke answered her in the same tongue.
“You good?” The man who had untied her was at her side now.
“I’m alive, so I guess I’m okay.” She watched as more men appeared. They knelt alongside the dead body closest to the truck and lifted it.
Her stomach twisted, and her skin started to sweat, despite the freezing temperature and snowfall, so she rushed to the edge of the road and bent over the guardrail to throw up.
A moment later, a hand was on her back. “Shit, you okay?” Luke asked.
“No, nothing about this is okay,” she said, her voice trembling. She wiped her mouth and slowly turned to face him. “They’re putting bodies in the trunk of that SUV.” She swirled a finger around in the air. “That doesn’t seem like something the police would do.”
“Police?” The blonde woman approached. She didn’t appear to have an accent despite the German she’d spoken moments ago.
“Who are you people? You’re not the good guys, are you? You lied.” But he protected me in the truck. She attempted to brush past Luke as if she could actually make a run for it, despite her heart telling her he was safe.
Luke captured her arm in one swift movement and tugged her back to his side.
“We are the good guys. Those men”—he jerked his chin toward the bodies that were now being carried—“are the dangerous ones.”
She tried to pull free from his grasp, but his hold was too tight. “Yeah, well, they’re dead. So, let me call the police and tell them what happened since I’m thinking you’re not a cop.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that,” the woman said and then looked to Luke. “She’s going to be a problem.”
A heavy sigh fell from his parted lips. “Get Knox over here. Find out if he has anything on him that’ll help.”
Shifting, Eva pressed her palms to his chest and looked up at him. “Please let me go. I-I won’t tell anyone what happened tonight.”
He grasped both her arms, the exact opposite of what she wanted to happen. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you leave. You got yourself involved in something, and until we know how to fix it, you’ll be staying with us.”
“I don’t want to be involved.” What she wanted was to be back in her New York loft. She did not want to be on the side of a mountain with a bunch of dead bodies and strangers with guns.
Luke leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear, and a strange sensation washed over her. “I wish you didn’t have to be, either,” he whispered, and then a darkness dropped over her mind, and everything went black.