Chapter 17
17
T he blood droplets stopped. The rain didn’t materialize. Though, it still threatened. The droplets had halted almost as quickly as they’d started. They hadn’t been enough to soften the hard dirt so he could trace footsteps. The scrub brush made that next to impossible anyway.
Archer couldn’t decide which way to go from where he stood. He’d lost his bearings. Checking his phone did no good. He was out of cell range now. It was spotty in this area, so he wouldn’t give up hope altogether. He’d hold onto his phone and check every few steps so he could navigate toward the farm road. It had to be around here somewhere.
Since Henry had lived out here with his wife, Archer had done his best to avoid the area. When he’d dipped into the woods to escape Beaumont for a few hours, he’d wanted to be completely alone. Besides escaping his father, the main house had been lively with his siblings and rarely quiet. Archer liked quiet, except when he was with Annalee. Then, he became a regular chatterbox. There was something about her that made him want to open up and talk about everything, including his deepest, darkest secrets.
How had he gotten himself so turned around?
Dammit.
He listened to see if he could pick up any road noise. A deputy might be out here or possibly the sheriff with Owen. He hoped Beau would be all right.
As he paused, more questions assaulted him. Again, he wondered how Becca could be involved in trying to squeeze his family for half a million dollars. It might be one thing to figure out a way to blackmail Beaumont. He would’ve deserved to reap what he’d sewn. The rest of the family was innocent. They’d grown up doing their level best to turn out to be good people. They’d worked hard and took care of their own.
People shocked the hell out of him once they saw green. Was this a case of greed? Or had Becca gotten herself into a situation that she couldn’t see another way out of? Either way, involving her daughter was unforgivable in his book. Annalee deserved so much better from the people she loved. Was it any wonder that she’d run scared at seventeen?
Twigs snapped to his left, just out of sight.
Archer crouched down, ready to pounce. Based on the sounds, there was more than one person. Could he launch a proper attack with a bad ankle? It hurt like the dickens. He’d torn off his sleeve to wrap it.
He tried to listen over the sound of rushing blood in his ears. Pain had a way of making him able to hear his own heartbeat, too.
Other than insects, there wasn’t much going on. He glanced up in time to see birds scattering from the trees. Someone or something was headed his way. He pulled out Travis’s handgun and aimed. In these parts, feral hogs could do a lot of damage.
He scanned the ground for any signs of them and spotted fresh waste. It meant those menaces were in the area and had been near this spot recently.
It dawned on him that hogs would make more noise. By this point, he should hear them grunting or squealing, or both.
A different noise caught his attention.
This had to be footsteps.
Archer crouched a little lower, ready to spring into action.
“Think we lost him?” Travis asked, his voice a port in a storm.
“I’m right here,” Archer whispered, lowering the handgun before standing up and hopping over on one foot.
Owen immediately came over to help. “What happened to you?”
“Got caught in a trap.”
His twin issued a grunt. “Traps have no business out here. No one in our family would have set one.”
Archer agreed. “I was following a blood trail.” He studied his brother for a second. “What are you doing here?”
“We heard the shot, so Owen refused to let me investigate without him,” Travis interjected.
Owen grunted. “What can I say? I’ll always have Archer’s back.”
It wasn’t just a twin thing, though, that was a strong influence. It was a brother thing. Either one of them would do the same for any one of their siblings.
“I lost her.” Saying those words gutted Archer. He should have taken her with him to go into the barn. He should have told her how much she meant to him. He should have made certain she was safe. Should have. Would have. Could have. But he hadn’t.
Losing her would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn’t allow himself to contemplate the worst-case scenario when it came to Annalee. She’d been through too much for her life to end here in the woods.
“Can you walk?” Owen asked.
“No choice.”
“Let’s go find her,” Owen said.
Archer wrapped an arm around his brother, leaving Travis to defend them if they were caught off guard. He trusted the sheriff’s abilities. Of course, he’d prefer to have a firm grip on what they were up against. Were there others besides Becca and the male?
“Did you get a sense if Becca and the guy were working alone?” Archer whispered as they picked a direction and began moving.
“Russ,” Owen said, taking some of Archer’s weight. “I’m pretty sure she called him Russ, but to be honest, I was in and out of consciousness for a while there. By the time I came to, I was in the barn in the condition you found me.”
The sound of hard footsteps ahead of them meant someone or something was running.
Archer didn’t want to hold his brother back or leave his brother-in-law without backup. “Go with Travis.”
Owen’s eyebrow shot up.
Archer grabbed hold of a tree to steady himself. “I’m sure. Go!”
With a nod, Owen and Travis took off in the direction of the sound.
Annalee needed to figure out more reasons to stall for time to give Archer a chance to find them. She’d forgotten to rip another piece of her shirt off after Russ had shot her mother. The move proved he would do anything to escape, including killing his partner.
The blast should have brought all kinds of attention to the area. Archer had to be close.
“Get up,” Russ said in a growl. He stood just shy of six feet tall with muddy brown hair and dark eyes. Slicked back, greasy hair gave him a fresh-from-prison look. He had on blue jeans and a polo style shirt underneath a fleece sweater. Hard boots were going to leave marks on her skin. They would heal.
She looked at her mother, who cowered every time Russ talked down to her.
If he got them out of the woods, would he kill them? Was he worried about leaving dead bodies behind? Or was he keeping both of them in case he needed hostages for negotiation purposes?
Granted, Becca was an accomplice. She was going to go down along with Russ. It broke Annalee’s heart to think her own mother could do this.
Becca scooted closer, looked down, and whispered, “Do what he says.”
“And then what?” She kept her voice low, too. Once Russ decided he didn’t need one or both of them any longer, what then? Would he put a bullet through their foreheads? Dump their bodies on the side of the road, left to be picked at by vultures, and who knew what else?
Russ’s boot slammed into the side of Becca’s face, causing her head to snap to one side.
“Stop it,” Annalee said, getting to her feet. She put her hands in the air where he could see them. Could she get close enough to grab the gun?
Heart battering the inside of her ribcage, she said, “This ends right now. You won’t hurt my mother again. Do you hear me?”
She expected Russ to push back. To fight. Instead, he lowered the gun toward Becca.
Annalee shouted, “No!”
And then she dove in between the business end of the barrel and her mother. Another shot was fired.
Cold, wet liquid ran down her chest as shock set in. No way had she been shot. Her brain argued against reality—a reality that was next to impossible to process.
“Annalee!” The fear in her mother’s voice confirmed the worst. This was bad. Annalee would likely die out here in the woods.
She rolled into a ball on her side, hugging her knees to her chest while making certain she faced away from Russ. The move was meant to lull him into thinking she was defenseless. But she had one more card to play.
He walked over toward her. She didn’t move a muscle.
Sounds of her mother wailing filled the air.
He brought the toe of his boot to her right shoulder.
The vibration of footsteps shook the earth beneath her. It sounded like a herd of elephants but was probably feral hogs.
He used the toe of his boot to shove her.
Last straw, asshole.
Annalee rolled onto her back, placed her hands beside her ears, and then bucked. She shot to her feet, toe-to-toe with Russ. He staggered back a few steps after she knocked the weapon out of his hand. It went flying into the scrub and disappeared.
Becca’s screaming and cursing was drowned out by one thing…Annalee’s rage. She could already sense blood loss was weakening her. Acting fast while she still had strength left was key.
At least she’d knocked the weapon out of his hands. He dove in the direction it had flown. She followed, landing on top of him, kicking and screaming like a wild banshee.
When he rolled over, it was as though hell came with him. There was so much hate in his eyes it almost stunned her.
And then a devastating blow to the side of her head knocked a few screws loose. Russ had something in his hand. A rock? The gun? She prayed it wasn’t the latter.
Blinking through blurry eyes, she tried to get her bearings and fight back. But she was woozy and nauseous. In fact, she wanted to vomit. Immediately.
Fighting the darkness tugging at her, the last thing she remembered seeing was Russ pulling her mother by the hair toward the road before everything went black.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” Archer’s voice cut through the fog. It was distant, like in a long tunnel. His breath came out in gasps like he was in pain.
Annalee gravitated toward the sound but couldn’t quite reach it.
“Please, Annalee,” he continued, insistent. “I need you to come to. I need to talk to you again and hear your laughter. Stay with me.”
With all her might, she resisted the urge to fall deeper into sleep. With a jolt, she forced her eyes to open. “Archer.”
“You’re back,” he said, a mix of relief and surprise in his deep timbre. “Keep those beautiful eyes open for me. Help is coming.”
She glanced around. “Mother.”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“Russ?” she asked.
“No sign of him, either.” He frowned. “I’m sorry.”
She took a second to let that sink in.
“We heard footsteps. Travis and Owen took off toward them. I haven’t seen them since. As far as I know, your mother is still with Russ.” He issued a sharp sigh. “Best-case scenario, Travis and Owen caught up to them.”
He didn’t have to outline the worst case. It was obvious.
“No other shots have been fired,” he said, glancing at her chest.
“That’s a good sign,” she said as she took inventory of Archer, saw blood on his hands and a ripped sleeve. “How badly are you injured?”
“Nothing more than a few scrapes.”
Head pounding, she brought up her hand to feel around. Her fingers landed on a wet knot. Memories came back in full force. “I knocked the gun out of his hand.” She looked at her fingers. Blood. There was blood on her shirt. “He shot me.”
Immediately, she began feeling around the scrub brush.
“We fought for the gun, and that’s when he slammed something into the back of my head.” Frustration nipped at her. “That’s when he got the best of me.”
Archer was already scanning her body, no doubt searching for all her injuries. He staunched her bleeding as sirens wailed in the distance.
“I’m cold,” she said, shivering.
Then, he shrugged out of his shirt and then wrapped it around her shoulders.
“You’ll freeze,” she said.
“I’m good.”
She got a good look at his ankle. There was more damage than he was letting on. So much blood loss.
“You’re really hurt, Archer.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. The moment their eyes touched warmth spread through her. “And I need to find my mother.”
“You aren’t going anywhere until you get those wounds looked at.”
“Mine have stopped bleeding.” She motioned toward her shoulder. “Can’t be that bad.”
“There’s a hole in your shoulder, sweetheart.” His voice was a study in calm—calm she only felt when Archer was next to her. “And those sirens are getting closer. Travis must have found a signal and called for help.”
“I just want my mother safely back and this nightmare to be over,” she said, a calmness settling over her. Her mother needed to pay for her crimes, but she needed real help, too. Like, counseling and rehab kind of help. Could Annalee convince Becca that she needed to make changes, or would she end up living the rest of her life behind bars? If not for this crime, then for the next scumbag who came along and convinced her to break the law.
Archer’s face twisted in disgust.
“I’m not saying she deserves to go free,” Annalee clarified. “I just want her alive to face the music. It might be the only way she’ll wake up and get the help she needs.”
He nodded. “I’m all for second chances if someone is serious about making a change.” His back jaw clenched. “A big step in the right direction would be owning up to what she’s done wrong.”
The wails of the sirens passed by.
Archer muttered a few choice words. He pulled out his cell and checked for service. “No bars.”
A snap sounded to their right sending an icy chill down her spine.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the two lovebirds,” Russ said, pointing the gun at Archer’s chest.