Chapter 16 #2
“I got you.”
He lifted her with all the care in the world, trying to jostle her as little as possible. She curled against his chest, one hand anchored on his coat sleeve. The contact hit him harder than any gunshot.
Snow struck his face when he carried her outside. Lights swept the clearing and his team moved through the storm like they were part of it.
Somewhere inside the mountain, a killer hid in the dark.
But Jolie was in Archer’s arms, and for now, he could breathe.
He had gotten her back tonight, but for the first time in his life Archer understood how a man could lose everything.
By loving this much.
* * * * *
The first thing Jolie learned after surviving a kidnapping was that getting patched up hurt almost as much as being kidnapped.
Archer was planted beside her like someone might try to steal her again if he so much as blinked. Every time Rivers did a pass during the deep clean of the graze on her shoulder, Archer’s jaw tightened harder than hers did.
“It’s superficial,” Rivers said for the third time.
“Then why does it feel like you’re sanding me down to bone?” she demanded.
“Because drama is your strongest muscle.” His eyes twinkled before he sobered. “Actually, it hurts because some fabric from your shirt is buried in the wound and I have to remove it.”
Long minutes later, he taped the final dressing in place and stepped back. After a few instructions on keeping it clean and dry for a few days, and to take a pack of antibiotics he set on the table for her, Rivers crossed the room to put away his supplies.
Archer stepped close to the table and slipped his arms around her. She leaned into him, the adrenaline she’d been running solely off for hours suddenly flooding out.
“I made a mistake,” she said.
His callused fingertip brushed beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “No.”
“Yes.” She sat up straighter despite the sting in her shoulder.
“I always told the kids when they were teenagers, don’t ever let someone take you to the second location.
Ever. Fight in the parking lot. Fight in the street.
Fight ugly and loud.” She shook her head.
“I let the kidnapper take me to the second location.”
Archer’s expression transformed in a way that hurt her to see. The anger was gone, replaced by something that deepened the creases around his eyes.
“Baby. You were blindsided. Drugged and zip-tied. You didn’t let anyone do anything.”
“I still know better. If I’d just screamed instead of trying that hand signal for help, someone might have come.”
“And he probably would have shot them.”
His bald statement sent a shudder of fear through her. She still didn’t know why that man came after her, but she knew Cannon would have her in the war room very soon asking that very same question.
Archer brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheekbone with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. “What matters is you’re safe.”
“My siblings,” she said quickly. “They need protection.”
“They have it.”
She flicked her gaze back to his. “What?”
“They’ll have protection at all times until we know what this is.”
“They’ll be terrified—”
“They won’t know they’re being guarded.”
Relief made her melt even more. “Thank goodness, because Jake and Tanner would hate that. And Lara would…flirt with whoever you sent.”
Archer’s lips twitched into a smile. He cupped her face and dropped a soft kiss to her forehead.
A knock at the open doorway turned their attention outward, and she realized at some point Rivers had slipped out of the room unheard.
Rome stood in the doorframe. “Update. Dogs are halfway through the tunnel search. No news yet.”
Archer nodded once. “Keep me posted.”
Rome disappeared again, and Jolie watched Archer’s face. The calm was still there, but underneath it sat the same fury she’d seen flashes of since he burst into the cabin and found her on the floor.
She didn’t get a chance to bring it up because Cannon walked in. His shoulders were stiff but his eyes warm when he met Jolie’s gaze. “Are you up to talking?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I nearly got murdered and there’s paperwork.”
That earned her a ghost of a smile from Cannon and a low groan from Archer.
“I’m ready to talk.” She started to jump off the table, but Archer’s hands were there, wrapping around her waist and easing her to the floor. He held her for a beat longer than necessary, then they walked together to the war room.
Once she was seated at the big table with the entire team gathered around her, Jolie felt the weight of their support settle in. Every man there wore looks of concern on their rugged faces.
Archer’s hand found hers under the table, giving her the strength to relive her experience.
At Cannon’s prompt, she explained what happened in the motel, how she’d heard a knock and expected the motel clerk to bring blankets. She told them how the man forced her out of the room at gunpoint and drove her away in a strange-looking utility vehicle with tracks instead of tires.
As she got to the part when he stuck her with a syringe in the neck, Archer’s fingers convulsed against hers, and she gave them a soothing squeeze.
When she reached the part where she asked for food, everyone tensed. “I asked him to untie me so I could feed myself, thinking if only I could get free, I might be able to fight.”
Several of the men nodded, which made her feel she’d done something right in the whole mess.
“He got me food—a granola bar—and fed it to me. But I noticed he was nervous. Sweating heavily and his voice had an edge too, like he was angry. Then I saw the burn near his wrist and I tried to get him talking about it.”
“A distinguishing mark.” Archer’s voice took on an edge.
She nodded. “It looked like the kind restaurant workers get on pizza ovens.” She pulled up the sleeve of her sweater that Rivers hadn’t cut off to reveal a faint white scar of her own.
“So I tried to get him talking about pizza ovens. I asked what model he got burned on.”
The room went still.
Archer shook his head. “You turned the tables on your kidnapper. Made him answer your questions.”
The men looked at each another with a kind of startled respect that would have been flattering if Jolie wasn’t so wiped out.
“That’s an advanced strategy,” Cannon noted. “How did you think of it?”
She blinked. “Are you kidding me? I raised three kids. I know how to keep changing what I say to find a tactic that works best. For instance, I could ground Jake from basketball. Tanner? Make him do yard work and he’d act like the country had fallen.
But if I tried to ground Lara, she would be like, ‘Oh no. I have to stay inside and read? Boohoo. How will I ever survive it?’”
Townie snorted.
“So I learned to pivot. I removed lip gloss privileges.”
Rome leaned forward. “Excuse me, did you say lip gloss privileges?”
O was laughing openly, and several guys flashed grins at her, including Archer.
“Every person has a lever, as I’m sure all of you know. You just have to find it. Some respond to praise. Some to guilt. Some to snacks. Some to shame. Some to making them think an idea was theirs in the first place, which frankly works on men more than you’d think—”
“Jolie.” Cannon said her name once.
She looked at him. “Yes?”
“I think I know why the guy shot you.” He smiled, and she felt the warmth of it sink into her.
It felt so good to be here. In a short time, Sierra team had become family to her—an odd ragtag crew she still didn’t know nearly enough about, yet they had come to her rescue twice. If any one of them ever needed her, she would be first in line to fight for them.
And Archer…
She felt his warm stare on her. For now, that was enough.
Cannon nodded at her as if he heard her thoughts and agreed with them. “You were controlling the situation.”
Archer squeezed her hand. “She gave away nothing.”
Jolie turned her head to see the pride in his face, and it made her insides shaky with emotion.
Cannon asked more questions about the timeline and the kidnapper’s appearance. She answered the best she could, considering the haze of the drug still lingering in her system and the fear that kept trying to claw its way back in.
Then she told them about Stina—how the man had known both of their names. How he said he’d been inside the restaurant in Chicago. How it sounded like he had watched them there for some time.
The room changed at once. Archer’s entire body went rigid. O jerked his head to look at her.
Cannon’s questions came sharper now. “Did you recognize him?”
“No.”
“Ever wait on him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He made it sound like he saw me training Stina.” She hated how weak her voice sounded. “We saw hundreds of customers. Some days it felt like a thousand faces blurred together.”
“Did he say how often he came in?”
“No. I honestly don’t remember him.” Shame heated her cheeks. “I remember problem customers. Creeps who stared too long. Big tippers. Families who came every Friday. Not every man who ordered a pizza and sat in a booth.”
“Did Stina ever mention someone bothering her?”
“No.”
“Following her? Asking questions? Waiting around after close?”
Jolie shook her head. “Just an on-again-off-again boyfriend. She keeps going back to the jerk and he kicks her out and she ends up crashing with me. But if more was going on, she wouldn’t hide it from me. We’re friends.”
Cannon held her gaze another beat, weighing everything. “What else did he say?”
“That I should’ve stayed in Chicago. That he’d been tracking me.” Her stomach turned all over again. “He said Stina’s full name like he knew her.”
Silence smothered the room.
Cannon asked for every detail a second time—whether her kidnapper’s voice sounded familiar, whether Stina had reacted strangely to any customer. Jolie answered until her throat felt raw and her head pounded.
Only when he seemed satisfied did he set the tablet down and give her a measured look. “Anything else?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Can I call my sister?”
Something gentled in his expression, so brief she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking. “Yeah. You’ve earned that.”
Archer was already on his feet, holding out a hand. “Come on.”
He helped her up carefully and guided her out of the war room, one hand steady at her back as they moved down the hall. The base felt different now—less like a place she’d stumbled into and more like somewhere she knew by heart.
He led her into a smaller side room with a desk, two chairs and a lamp burning low. He pulled a phone out of a drawer and handed it to her.
“Secure line,” he said.
“Fancy.”
“Can I get you anything? Food? Water? You’ve had a hard day.”
“I’m fine. I just want to tell my sister I’m okay and it will be a little while before I get home.”
He nodded.
“Then I want you.”
His stare held hers for three long beats before he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. It wasn’t filled with lust or the driving need they both felt before. It was soft and steady.
It was everything she needed and full of all the things neither of them could say yet.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took the phone.
Archer turned back at the door. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me. Okay?”
She gave him a small smile, heart bursting with love as she watched him walk away.
Jolie took a moment to center herself before punching in Lara’s number. Her sister answered on the first ring.
“Where have you been?” Lara demanded.
Jolie laughed, the sound too shaky. “Long story.”
There was a pause, and suddenly Lara’s voice echoed with delight. “With your hot ranger?”
Jolie smiled, but fear lingered in her blood. Her shoulder throbbed. There were still too many unanswered questions—too many dangers lurking in the shadows beyond these walls.
But with Archer only steps away and her sister in her ear, Jolie felt the fear begin to loosen a bit.
She was safe.
And she was no longer on the outside—she was surrounded by people who cared.