Chapter 4
For the briefest of seconds, I was free, except for his grip on my left wrist. I struggled to my feet, lunging, trying to use my body weight and momentum to yank my arm free. Pain shot through my left shoulder as he hauled back on my wrist, dragging me forward. I lost my footing, falling, my ankle turning under me. Agony flashed up my leg. I gasped in a breath, letting out another scream of rage and pain.
I caught a brief glimpse of those dark eyes. Cold. Determined. Then I was flipped facedown, my nose shoved into the snow again. A knee jammed into my lower back, driving the air from my lungs. Hitching, wheezing screams scraped at my ears. Me. That was me, trying to scream and whimpering instead.
Hot, furious tears blurred my eyes. My right ankle was numb. He hauled my left arm up. My right moved to join it, my fingers still tingling from whatever he’d done to make me drop my gun. A sob caught in my throat.
I wasn’t going to be able to get away. And whoever this was, whatever he wanted, it was going to be bad. There was nothing else it could be. I curled my fingers into fists, trying to make my wrists as big as possible. Maybe I’d be able to get out of whatever restraints he put on.
I didn”t know what else to do. I just knew I couldn’t let him take me. I couldn’t let this happen. I’d have to keep fighting.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I realized I was fucked. I went limp, thinking, thinking, thinking. My racing mind couldn’t find a way out. How could I stop him? I was strong and smart. And still bound by the physics of being a small-framed woman pinned beneath a man who was probably twice my weight, and most of it muscle.
All these years, the woods had been my sanctuary. And now this man, whoever he was, wanted to take that.
Something cold wrapped around my wrists, the edges digging into my skin. Long, strong fingers pulled down my jaw and shoved fabric into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, to shake my head, screaming against the fabric.
And then he was gone, his weight torn from my back.
I scrambled to my knees, spitting out the fabric in my mouth, watching as two bodies rolled across the snowy trail, one in white and gray, the other in a familiar faded green and khaki camo. Hawk or one of his team. My attacker’s grayish-white camo blended into the light layer of snow on the forest floor as they grappled. I caught a glimpse of dark hair. Hawk. It was Hawk. I registered the gun in his hand, and my brain cleared.
I was just sitting here, out in the open. My hands were bound but I could move. I couldn’t help Hawk with my attacker, but I could get myself out of his way. I tried to stand, my only thought to get away from the two men. My right foot crumpled beneath me, pain spiking through my ankle and up my leg.
Fuck. Fuck. I tried again, slowly, falling back to my knees as the first hint of pressure sent hot pain flaring through my ankle. I didn”t think it was broken. Maybe a sprain, but either way, I couldn’t walk on it. Fuck. Hands and knees would be faster, but my fucking hands were behind my back. I tugged at them, but whatever bound my wrists was tight, with no give.
I glanced back to Hawk and my attacker. Hawk almost had the other man in a bind, his arm close to a lock on his neck, when the man twisted himself free, drawing out a knife. My gut lurched. I wanted to help Hawk. I couldn’t leave him. What if?—
No.I had a fucked-up ankle, and my hands were restrained behind my back. I couldn’t help Hawk. I was only going to distract him. I needed to get away from both of them, and I needed to do it now. My pack was too far away. I couldn’t see my gun anywhere. I was low on choices, and I needed to move. The best place to hide was down. To my right, the ravine beckoned. It was steep, but not too steep. I hoped.
Tucking my chin down as tightly as I could, I curled into a ball and rolled, squeezing my eyes closed as I went. Growing up in the country, I’d rolled down a hillside more than a few times. On the right hillside, it was a hell of a good ride, everything whirling and turning and spinning until I came to a halt in summer-warmed grass, laughing and giggling. This was not the same thing.
I rolled, picking up speed, smacking into trees, bumping over rocks until I came to an abrupt halt wedged under a fallen pine. The good news was I”d be very hard to see from above. The bad news? There was no fucking way I was getting back up the side of the ravine. And if Hawk didn”t take care of my attacker, it was going to be tricky to get my hands free.
Without my pack, without a weapon, and wedged under a tree, there wasn’t much I could do to improve my situation. I tried anyway. Using my bound hands and left foot for leverage, I got myself into a seated position. Shifting my weight forward, I shoved my bound hands down, trying to get them under my butt to pull them through to the front. I’d done it before, in self-defense training, but my wrists were bound too tightly and my winter parka was too thick. On top of that, every jostle of my ankle was agony. Fuck.
A shot echoed through the woods, and my heart lurched painfully in my chest. Hawk.
Hawk. Fuck. Oh, please. Please.
A few feet away, I spotted a rock half buried in the snowy hillside, with a corner that might be sharp enough to cut through whatever was around my wrists. I was pretty sure he”d used a zip tie. Those could go either way. The cheap ones from the hardware store broke pretty easily. I”d learned that the hard way fastening gear. The pricier zip ties, especially the kind that had wires running through the plastic, were a different story. I had a knife in my pack, but my pack was back on the trail. On the trail with Hawk.
Please, please let him have pulled the trigger.An image of him bleeding out in the snow flashed through my mind. No.
I braced my good foot in the snow and shoved, wiggling backward until I reached the rock with the sharp edge. Lining my wrists up with the edge of the rock, I started moving them back and forth, not sure if I was doing any fucking good. I had to try. I didn”t have a better plan. I had to get my hands free. If that shot had hit Hawk, I’d?—
What? What did I think I was going to do? If he’d shot Hawk, the man in the white camo would be on me before I could do anything.
I’d have to?—
A dark shape popped up over the ridge, sharp eyes finding mine. Hawk.
A wave of relief hit me. He seemed to be in one piece as he carefully descended the side of the ravine. When he got close enough, he said, “Quinn, are you okay?”
I nodded, then shook my head. “Mostly bumps and bruises. I can’t get my hands free. And I hurt my ankle.” My head spun, and words tumbled out. “Who was that? What—? What the fuck happened? Why—? Did you shoot him?”
Hawk shook his head. “I need to get you secured, then track him down. Let me focus, Quinn.”
The man in the white camo had gotten away. I snapped my mouth shut. I could ask questions later. For now, our immediate safety was more important. “I lost my pack,” I said quietly. “I had a gun. He knocked it out of my hands.”
“Understood.” Pulling a knife from his boot. Hawk flipped out the blade, and my hands were free a moment later. “Wait,” he said sharply as I started to stand.
He checked me from head to toe, his hands moving efficiently, probing for injury. I winced a few times as he touched newly forming bruises, but nothing was bad until he got to my right ankle.
“Sprained or broken?” he asked.
“Sprained, I think.” Hawk’s hand hovered over my foot. “I don”t think we should take this boot off,” I said. “Not until we”re at the cabin.” I glanced up the ravine. “If I can get there,” I added. Even if I could make it to the top, there was still the rest of the trail, which only grew rougher the closer we got to the hunting cabin.
I shivered, my adrenaline spiking.
It was too far to go back to the Manor. The snow was coming down in heavy curtains, the flakes small and dense. Fucking hell. How had this gone to shit so fast?
Hawk gave a long look to my right foot, tightly laced in my waterproof hiking boot. He nodded and moved to my right side, slinging an arm around my back and pulling me upright until my weight settled on my left leg.
“Don”t put any weight on that right foot,” he said, glancing at the ravine wall. “You”re going to have to?—”
“Crawl.” I finished for him. “Yeah, I figured. At least my hands are free.”
Hawk scanned the woods surrounding us. “I need to make sure he”s gone.”
“Did you shoot him?” I asked.
Hawk’s eyes slid to the side, and I thought I caught a shade of embarrassment. “I think I grazed him. Your cabin is close.”
I nodded in the affirmative.
“Stocked up? Food? Firewood?”
I nodded again. “Yes to all of it.”
“We”ll head there. Temperature’s dropping. I need to get you inside. You can handle getting up that hill?” he asked, worried eyes flicking from my face to the hill I”d rolled down only minutes before.
Could I handle it? I guessed I was going to find out. Not like I had a choice. I nodded. “I’ve got it. Go do what you need to do. I’ll get myself back up there.”
Hawk gave another of those short, sharp nods in return. “Good thinking, getting out of his line of sight in the ravine. Gutsy move.”
A warm glow filled my chest at his succinct praise.
“I’ll get you as far as I can,” he said, tightening his arm around my back and taking most of my weight, stepping forward slowly enough to let me hop along with him. He was like granite. I knew he wouldn’t fall. Wouldn’t drop me. Wouldn’t slip.
There weren’t many people in my life I could say that about. I was glad one of them was here.
A few steps farther, the incline was too steep. I tipped forward, catching myself on the hill with my hands.
“Okay?” Hawk asked.
“I’m good.” Now that they were untied, my hands were fine. Proving it, I inched up the hill, watching in envy as Hawk climbed up in seconds and disappeared into the trees. Getting back up the hill was no less painful than rolling down had been, the terrain not exactly soft under my knee and palms, snow soaking into my pants, leaching away my precious body heat. I used my right knee as much as I could, but the second anything touched my right foot, hot pain surged, my ankle pulsing in the tight boot.
Fucking ankle. God damn it.
I continued my slow progress, reminding myself I was trained to survive in the fucking wilderness, in all kinds of weather. I’d been caught in a snowstorm on Mt. Washington. I’d hiked Mt. Fuji without oxygen. I could do this. I was freezing and wet, and everything hurt, but I could do this.
I was halfway up the side of the ravine when I heard the crunch of boots in the snow and looked up to see Hawk. He got down beside me, the incline still too steep to walk upright. “Come on, I’ve got you.”
Hawk’s arm came around my back, pulling me into his side, taking enough of my weight that I could move faster than on my own. It was still awkward and slow, both of us on our hands and knees, me trying to hold back grunts of pain every time I moved my right knee and my foot dragged over the ground. Every bump of a rock or a twig was another nauseating roll of pain.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I chanted in my head. My ankle didn”t feel broken. I’d broken my foot before, and I’d sprained that ankle before. I knew that throb, knew it was a sprain. But it didn’t stop it from hurting like a motherfucker.
At the top, I rose up on my knees, trying to figure out the next step. I couldn’t walk. If I got out my hiking poles, maybe I could use them as a crutch? My pack leaned against a tree beside the trail.
“I found your weapon,” Hawk said. “I put it in your pack.”
“Did you find him?” I asked, feeling a little woozy. Hadn’t I asked that before? Had he answered? Fuck. The cold and my ankle had my head spinning. I had to get to the cabin and get warm.
From the way Hawk was looking at me, he’d come to the same assessment. He shook his head. “I definitely winged him. Tracked blood back to where the trail split. He headed back toward the inn. I got a message out to my team. They’re on high alert in case he goes to the Manor. I told them we’re waiting out the weather at the cabin.” With a meaningful look at the sky, Hawk crossed to my pack and hefted it to one shoulder. “Let’s get this on you.”
I shook my head. “I can’t carry it. I have hiking poles. If you can carry the pack, I can use them as a crutch.”
Hawk shook his head and held out the pack.
“What do you think he—?” I started to ask.
Hawk shook his head. “Questions later. Put on that pack. You”re going to climb on my back, and I”m going to get us to the cabin.”
I stared at him, eyes wide, uncomprehending. “You can’t carry me and the pack. I’m too heavy. We can leave the pack here and come back for it.”
Hawk snorted a laugh. “You’re not too heavy.”
The pack was a good thirty pounds. I was small but not a featherweight. And the footing on the trail was uncertain, especially in the snow. Hawk couldn’t carry me.
“Put the pack on,” Hawk said patiently. “I”m carrying you to the cabin. We don”t have time for you to limp your way there.”
“What if you?—”
“I’ll be fine. Put the pack on.” Hawk sighed as I just stood there. “I tracked him back to the trail that leads to the inn, but that doesn’t mean he took it. He”s injured, but he’s mobile, and he didn”t get what he wanted, whatever that was. The Manor is covered. We’re exposed, and he may be coming back. The weather might help us out, but not while we”re out here. We need to get to the cabin. I”m not leaving your gear. It won’t be safe to come back for it. Get your pack on so we can get moving.”
His implacable tone and clear logic broke through my paralysis. With a nod, I held out my arms, helping him slide the pack on my back. As soon as I had it clipped in and secured, Hawk crouched in front of me, giving me his back. I hesitated, not sure how to climb on. The last time I rode piggyback, I was nine years old.
“Quinn,” Hawk growled. “Stop thinking and get on my fucking back so we can get moving.”
“Okay.” Feeling suddenly awkward and suddenly shy, I leaned over him, plastering myself to his back. Gripping his shoulders with my hands and his hips with my knees, I climbed on. Strong fingers hooked behind my thighs, holding me in place as he rose to his feet.
I was still settling as he began to walk, moving briskly despite the snow. Winding my arms around his shoulders, I held on, soaking in his body heat, his back so warm and solid. My front was warm, but the rest of me was cold and wet, bruised and aching. My ankle throbbed. And despite all of that, the firm grip of his hands on my thighs sent heat spiraling through me.
I told myself I was being ridiculous. This was not the time. I”d been attacked by someone who had clearly planned to kidnap me and do— I didn’t know what. I wasn’t thinking about it. We were in the middle of a freak snowstorm that was just supposed to be flurries, and I’d fucked up my ankle. We were running out of time to get to the cabin. Hawk was carrying way too much weight for the uncertain footing, especially as fast as he was walking. This was not the time to get turned on by the tall, muscled body I was currently wrapped around. But it wasn’t just the body. It was Hawk.
With a sigh, I relaxed against him, resting my cheek against the back of his head. He smelled of spice and sweat and the crisp scent of the snowy woods.
For the first time since that tickle between my shoulder blades, I felt safe.
Even though I knew that in our current predicament, I was anything but.