SEVENTEEN #2
Then the man was at the door with a rifle aimed at both of them in the back seat and there was no more time for anything except surviving.
Her mind reeled as she tried to make sense of what was happening to them. When he pushed them toward the SUV at gunpoint, her body jerked with understanding.
They were going to die if they didn’t do what he demanded.
As soon as Stina’s feet obeyed, her mind sucked in details. She memorized his size, build and the way he moved. He wore all black, a mask and gloves.
Not an inch of him was exposed to give away his identity.
Only one thing stuck out, and it was glaring.
He handled the weapon like he was born with it in his hand.
She filed that away and remembered what Jolie told her to do—stall. “I have a blister. I can’t walk this fast.”
He didn’t look at her. “You’re gonna have a bullet hole if you don’t.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh my god! Are you a sex trafficker? Because I have to tell you—I’m a terrible investment. I’m extremely high maintenance and I have strong opinions about—”
“Shut up and walk! Or I’ll shoot you like I shot your friend.”
Oh god. Rivers.
Her mind took the blow all over again—seeing blood spill over his fingers right before he fell.
She must have slowed her steps because her kidnapper shoved her in the back with the barrel of the gun, causing her to lurch forward and almost fall on her face.
She drew herself up to her full height and shot him a glare over her shoulder. “I can walk. You didn’t have to do—”
He swung the rifle around and clipped her cheek with the butt.
She cried out before she could stop the sound, and Jolie grabbed her arm to steady her.
Pain flashed through her whole head. Her brain froze from the shock of being struck so brutally, and then suddenly she was seated in the back of the SUV with Jolie tucked next to her.
In the dark, Jolie’s gaze traveled over Stina’s face as if assessing her condition. Even though she wasn’t sure if she was okay, she squeezed Jolie’s hand in reassurance.
Physically, she would survive. But terror clawed her stomach and left behind a thick layer of ice that made it difficult to breathe or think.
Rome. Her brain snagged the name out of the fog of her scrambled thoughts. They needed Rome and the team. If this man drove away with her and Jolie, Sierra didn’t have a chance of finding them.
“You’re well trained.” Jolie’s voice came out deadly calm. “You’re totally concealed. Nothing on you is reflective, not even your scope. That’s not the work of an amateur. Who sent you?”
He said nothing, just put the vehicle in gear.
“Special forces?” Jolie continued almost conversationally. “Private contractor? You move like you know what you’re doing.”
“Military,” Stina jumped in, improvising from what her friend advised her to do. Her cheek felt huge and swollen already, the corner of her eye starting to feel tight.
“He’s definitely military,” she went on. “Or ex-military. The way you hold that weapon—”
“Stop talking.”
The SUV flew down the road. Trees whizzed past the windows, carrying them away from base.
Away from Rome and Archer and anyone who could help them.
Rivers too. Her stomach cramped, and she leaned forward, breathing shallowly through the sick sensation.
She didn’t have a clue where they were going, but in minutes, the mountain swallowed them whole. They passed a sign at high speed, and she couldn’t make out what it said besides PASS.
The road narrowed to a single lane. A rock face rose sheer on one side and a drop she couldn’t see the bottom of closed in on the other. The darkness pressed around them, disorienting her as much as the throb in her head.
Stina stared at Jolie. As her friend’s gaze moved to her cheek, her brows pinched with worry.
Stina gave a small shake of her head to let her know they had worse things to worry about than a bruise and black eye.
She turned her head and looked out the window. The sky was starting to lighten on the ridge enough to see the thick clots of snow and ice clinging to the mountain.
The realization slid through her like a glacier of ice.
He hadn’t driven them away to kill them.
Whatever he wanted, it still required them alive. That should have been reassuring.
It wasn’t.
Because if he needed them alive, then he was taking them somewhere.
Jolie’s cold fingers brushed hers, and Stina gripped them.
As long as they were in the SUV, they were together. If he stopped, that all ended.
He could march them into the mountains, or shove them off the ridge. No one would hear them scream. No one would find them until spring, if ever.
She turned her head and looked at Jolie. Her friend was staring back.
No words passed between them, but she saw the agreement settle in Jolie’s eyes.
If he stopped this vehicle, they fought.
On impulse, Stina leaned toward the back of the driver’s seat. “Any chance you’ve ever been to Antonio’s Ristorante in Chicago?”
He didn’t respond to her question, but something happened. He let off the gas just a fraction, causing the vehicle to lose momentum.
It only lasted for half a heartbeat, but then he corrected his speed and the SUV surged forward again.
Stina went still.
He knew the name.
Maybe he’d never personally been to the restaurant. But she’d said something that made him react before he could stop himself.
Her heart slammed fast and hard, making her head throb more.
Beside her, Jolie’s gaze flicked to Stina for the briefest second, and she knew her friend had caught it too.
Stina settled back against the seat and tried to control her urge to scream at him and make demands to know what he intended to do with them. If she pushed too hard, he’d most likely pull over and shoot them both. But Antonio’s meant something to him.
She kept her voice light. “I’m only asking because I made a pretty big impression there once. Very memorable. It involved pizza. Screaming. Public humiliation. The whole thing had real dramatic flair.”
“Stina,” Jolie murmured under her breath, warning and encouragement wrapped together.
She ignored it.
“I’m just saying, if you were there, I’d remember you.” She tilted her head, studying the dark shape of him in the front seat. “And if you weren’t, then maybe you know someone who was.”
His shoulders locked.
For one terrible second, the only sound in the SUV was the engine straining against the climb.
Then he looked in the rearview mirror.
Whatever he saw made him hit the gas.
The SUV surged around the next bend so fast Stina slammed shoulder-first into Jolie. Ahead, something flashed across the road—orange barricades, a chain gate, a wall of packed snow. She couldn’t make sense of it before the man swore and stomped the brakes.
The vehicle fishtailed.
Jolie caught herself on the seat in front of them, and Stina grabbed the door hard enough to hurt her hand. The SUV slid sideways before jerking to a stop.
A barrier blocked the pass.
A steel gate stretched across the road, reinforced with heavy barricades and warning lights that flashed weakly against the rock face. Snow had drifted around the base of it, turning the whole thing into a dead end.
The man didn’t waste a second. He yanked the wheel hard and gunned it onto a narrow maintenance road carved into the mountainside above the gate. The tires bounced over rutted ice and frozen gravel, the SUV lurching upward at a steep angle before leveling out onto a flattened shelf of mountain.
And there, sitting in the gray pre-dawn light with its rotors already beginning to turn, was a helicopter.
He’d never intended to drive out. The gate, the pass, the road—none of it was ever the plan. He was moving toward an escape.
He was out of the vehicle before it stopped rocking.