Chapter 12 - Nikki #2
“That’s what’s bothering you?” he asked, laughing. He shrugged. “You’ll be able to hear it when we’re over the ridge. That’s nothing. Seriously, Nikki, you need to relax a bit.”
For a half-second, she almost went along with it.
There was every chance that Jasper’s paranoia had leaked into her own psyche.
She hated being a nuisance. At the same time, it wasn’t just paranoia.
If it had been, she might have pushed it away.
But her legs ached from the hike, and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, a pale orange beginning to tint the blue.
She needed to get home soon, and the hike was becoming more and more unpleasant.
“I’m going back,” she said, her voice hard. She pushed past him and started trudging back down. “You can keep going if you want.”
Before she realized what was happening, Vincent’s arm lashed out.
His hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back.
She cried out in shock and pain. Bewildered, she stared up into Vincent’s face.
That friendly smile she had grown used to seeing on him was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a gloating sneer.
Dread enveloped her at his expression, and the air around her seemed to constrict, making it nearly impossible to breathe. She tried to wrench her hand out of his grip, only for him to tighten his hold.
“Let me go,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to yank away. He didn’t release her. “Vincent, this isn’t funny.”
“Didn’t say it was,” he said.
Her jaw tightened, though a lump began to form in her throat, and her stomach began to churn with dread and unease.
“Whatever is going on, I don’t want any part of it,” she said, tugging her arm again, though she knew already it wouldn’t do any good. But she wasn’t going to let him push her around without her saying anything. A year ago, she might have. Not anymore. “I’m going home.”
“The only place you’re going is with me,” he said. “There’s someone who wants to see you.”
Her eyes widened, the breath rushing out of her lungs. Everything seemed to come to a standstill at those words, a chill piercing through her. Realization struck; everything fell into place. And all of a sudden, the entire situation became much, much worse.
“You’re working for Lucas,” she muttered.
Instead of answering, he jerked her further up the ridge. She let out a scream as she tried to pry his hand off her wrist. She knew the shriek wouldn’t do any good; the area was too deserted. Not even a shifter would hear.
“Let me go,” she spat. When that didn’t work, she said, “Vincent, listen, we’re friends. You don’t have to do this. Please. I know you. This isn’t you.”
He still didn’t respond. Her heels dug into the ground, but all it did was dig two trenches in the soft earth.
He kept lugging her forward. She reached out and wrapped her free hand around a tree trunk, nails digging into the bark.
Her palm scraped against the rough surface as Vincent continued moving forward, his grip on her not lessening.
“Stop making this harder than it has to be,” Vincent grunted. He gave her arm a tremendous yank, and her hand broke away from the tree. She stumbled toward him, and he kept moving, dragging her after him.
Her mouth had gone dry, and her mind wanted to spiral downward into panic.
She attempted to wedge her fingers between his hand and her wrist, to no avail.
She gritted her teeth, lunging toward him, trying to claw at whatever she could get to.
He dodged her blows with an almost bored ease until she finally stopped, panting from exertion, eyes narrowed in rage.
“At least tell me why,” she said, still trying to tug her hand away. It didn’t do anything.
“Lucas offered me a deal too good to pass up,” he said. “I bring him you, and he makes me his second-in-command once he’s set up his new pack.”
The answer startled her so much that she stopped struggling for a moment. “You’re betraying your pack for a bit of power?” she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust.
“Plenty of people have betrayed their pack for less.”
“I had a higher opinion of you than that,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.
“I don’t think your opinion is going to matter a whole lot going forward,” Vincent said flatly. “Now come on. The more you struggle, the worse it’s going to be for you.”
He jerked her forward, ignoring her continued attempts to pry herself away, her screams and cries for help. Her nails dug into the flesh of his forearm. She heard him give a sharp intake of breath, but that was it.
They crested the ridge. Not too far away, a backpack sat nestled in the leaves underneath a tree. A coiled rope rested on top of it, looking more like a snake preparing to strike.
She stared at it, her heart leaping into her chest, her throat constricting.
She didn’t need to wonder what that rope was for.
The feel of it wrapping around her wrists, a knee driving between her shoulder blades, and keeping her pinned to the rough concrete threatened to drown her. Her body wanted to freeze in panic.
Once again, thoughts of despair began to crawl across her body, beneath her skin, seeming to ripple up through the ground and up her legs.
She pictured herself going meekly with him, not fighting, because there was nothing she could really do, not here in the wilderness.
She’d been an idiot to trust Vincent, and now she’d pay the price.
It wasn’t as though she was going to get away.
Even if she did manage to break his hold, where would she go?
She only had the vaguest semblance of a trail to follow, and she pictured herself getting easily lost or tripping.
There was no hope. Might as well just accept it.
She clenched her jaw, steeling herself. No.
She wasn’t going to give up like she had last time.
She wasn’t going to let him take her. She could get out of this as long as she kept a level head.
Jasper had trained her, both at training sessions and at home.
He’d helped her so she would be able to protect herself if he wasn’t around.
She pictured his face, not disappointed but expectant, as if he knew she could get out of this, as if he believed in her more than she did herself.
Something about that triggered her, spurred her into action in a way nothing else ever could.
She might still have issues with Jasper, might be frustrated with him for what he had done, but she’d be damned if she were going to let everything that had happened to her over the last several weeks have been for nothing.
Before Vincent could react, before he was even aware of her shift in demeanor, she twisted toward him, using his grip on her wrist against him as she yanked him closer.
She saw the confusion in his face, but only for a moment.
Without giving him a moment to register what was happening, her knee rammed into his crotch as hard as she could.
Vincent’s eyes grew comically wide. He released her, staggering back as he groaned in pain.
Remembering her training, she rammed her foot straight into Vincent’s gut.
His eyes widened, looking almost bug-like.
When he doubled over, her foot lashed out once more, and her heel slammed into his nose.
A satisfying crunch echoed through the woods like a snapping branch, and Vincent’s hand flew to his nose.
She didn’t wait to see what happened next. She ran, sprinting over the ridge and back down the nearly invisible trail as fast as she dared. A sharp, downward slope with exposed roots, loose stones, and overgrown bramble made it impossible to run as fast as she wanted.
It didn’t take long for Vincent to get to his feet.
She wasn’t sure how far she had gotten, but it felt like no time at all when she heard him crashing through the bramble.
She wanted to turn back and look over her shoulder, to see how far he was and how long it would take for him to get to her.
She managed to stop herself. Looking back would only make her trip over her feet, and she’d fall halfway down the slope, either breaking her neck or leaving her as a sitting duck for Vincent.
She kept her eyes forward, running as fast as she could, picking up her feet to avoid stumbling. Her heart raced, and it wasn’t long until pain lanced through her side. The stitch pressed against her gut, making it nearly impossible to think of anything else.
Keep going, keep going, keep going, she chanted in her head like a mantra, willing herself to listen to it.
She focused on her footing, practically dancing down the slope as she maneuvered around rock and brush and root. One foot in front of the other—that was all she needed to focus on at the moment. If she managed to do that, she might get out of this.
Despite her caution, her foot caught on a root.
She tumbled to the earth, scraping her palms and elbows.
She groaned, grimacing as stinging pain ran along her hands and forearms. Roots and loose stones dug into her knees through her jeans.
She panted, staggering to her feet, her body aching wherever it had landed.
Pounding footsteps crunching down on leaves and the sound of someone barreling through brush sounded behind her. All the time she had gained sprinting away from Vincent had evaporated. She didn’t have much time.