Chapter 46
O h, this is not happening , Callie thought as she instinctively reached up to her neck.
A thick, rough texture met her fingers, making her even more aware of the rope cutting off her breath.
Each tiny frayed filament of jute pricking her skin like a needle while the thick, twisted strand dug into her flesh.
The shock of the attack lasted less than two seconds, though, before her training roared to life. She had less than a minute to dislodge her attacker—no doubt another man sent by Aiden Nolan. Every second counted.
Forcing her focus away from her dwindling air supply, away from the pain and panic screaming through her body, she concentrated on the weakest point in this battle. The man holding her instrument of death. And his kidney.
Bringing her arm in front of her, she drove it back into her attacker’s side, registering several details as she did.
He wore a thin coat that made a small crinkling sound when her elbow connected.
His shoes, shuffling on the pavement as he absorbed the blow, sounded like smooth-soled dress shoes.
And the huff of breath that left his body in a grunt suggested a bad case of halitosis.
Those observations flowed through her as she prepared for her next move. Her first had caught him off guard, enough that the constriction around her neck eased, although not enough to release her. And now he’d be on guard.
Reaching over her head, she gripped her attacker’s hands, leaned back to throw him off-balance, then jerked her body forward, bending at the waist. He stumbled into her, and she took advantage of the closeness to drive her heel into his knee.
The satisfying pop, followed by “Fucking bitch” exploding from the man’s body, sent a burst of power through her.
When the pull of the rope shifted downward as her attacker adjusted his step, she used his moment of imbalance to spin.
Taking him with her, she slammed his body against the SUV, her back still to his front.
Her vision dimmed at the edges as the rope continued to squeeze, but she refused to give in. She’d had the best hand-to-hand combat instructor at the academy, a man she continued training with when she graduated, and she’d been an excellent student.
As she lurched forward then back again, brutally pushing the man against the rear passenger door, she could all but hear her trainer’s voice.
Adrenaline and fear and the exertion of fighting could be her strength or her weakness.
She could succumb to them; she could let the rope choke her rapid, labored breaths from her.
Or she could use them, draw from them, draw from the energy they created, and fight.
She chose the latter.
A surge of strength and determination seized her mind and body. Lunging back, she pressed him against the car, then dipped her head before flinging it backward into his face at the same time she drove another elbow deep into his side.
“Hey!” came a shout from somewhere in the parking lot. She ignored it and kicked out, catching her foot around her attacker’s ankle and yanking him forward.
He let out another unimaginative string of swear words as their bodies hit the ground, but the sudden shift had done what she needed, and the rope loosened.
Slipping her fingers under it, she tugged. The man wasn’t as willing to let go as he should be, so for good measure, she used her elbow again.
He grunted and one of the ends slipped from his hand. Grabbing hold of it, she spun, sliding away from his body onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath.
When she looked over, her eyes met Aiden Nolan’s.
Blood streamed down his face from the broken nose she’d given him with her headbutt, but fury and self-righteous entitlement dominated his expression.
This wasn’t over. Not for him. Not for her.
Ignoring the deep throbbing in her throat and the pain in her chest as she struggled to bring air into her lungs, she scrambled far enough away to be out of his reach but close enough for her next attack.
“Hey!” the voice called again, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps.
Aiden tensed as a debate raged in his head—finish what he started or retreat and finish it another day.
He was welcome to try either, as far as she was concerned. She wouldn’t let him succeed.
Self-preservation won out and as the footsteps neared, he shot up to his feet with surprising alacrity. “Fucking bitch,” he repeated. “This isn’t over,” he said, turning toward the woods.
They agreed on that. It wasn’t over. But as she tensed her muscles to launch herself after him, he spun back around and kicked out, too fast for her to react.
His foot connected with her lower ribs, sending her tumbling onto her back.
The air whooshed from her body and pain pulsed across her chest and up her side as he slipped into the woods.
“Hey, are you okay?” A man’s face appeared above her, followed by a woman’s.
“We saw some of it. We called the police,” the woman said.
She forced a breath in, then a second. The man reached out a hand but didn’t touch her as she started to roll to the side. “You shouldn’t move,” he said.
Like hell was she going to let Aiden Nolan best her. Ignoring the Good Samaritan, she rolled to her knees. The gravel of the parking lot dug through her pants into her knees, but the sharp pain faded when she spied her phone lying not two feet away, the call still connected.
Grabbing it, she rose with the assistance of her two helpers. “Which way did he go?” she asked.
The man’s brow furrowed. The woman hesitated, then pointed to a narrow trail between two towering pines.
“My name is Callie Parks,” she told the couple. “When the police get here, make sure to tell Chief Warwick,” she said, then took off toward the trail.
“Gabriel,” she said, holding the phone to her ear as she jogged along the uneven ground. The darkness and shadows slowed her down—as did her aching ribs—but they’d slow Aiden, too.
“Callie! Are you?—”
“I’m banged up, but okay,” she said, her eyes darting between the forest and the trail. She had no wish to trip and take another tumble, but she also didn’t want to risk missing a sighting of Nolan.
“I’m on my way. So are the others,” Gabriel said, the rumbling engine of his car audible in the background. The house might be fifteen minutes from the pizza parlor, but she’d bet he’d make it in nine.
“I’m following him,” she said, then added, “It was Aiden himself. He didn’t send someone this time.” Her words came out in staccato bursts. The slow run should have been easy, but the fight had taken more out of her than she’d admit.
“Don’t, Callie,” Gabriel said.
She didn’t bother responding. “I think his car is in the lot, close to mine. Two people came to my aid, and they must have cut him off from an easy exit. Tell the police.” A small branch snapped ahead of her, and she picked up her speed.
“Callie—”
“I’m headed into the woods after him, Gabe. You can track me on your phone.” They’d turned on that feature in Utah and hadn’t bothered to turn it off.
He growled. “Tell me you’re armed,” he said, making no effort to hide his displeasure with her choice.
“No gun, but I have a knife,” she answered.
“Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s not a gunfight, then,” he muttered. “Do not do anything stupid, woman. And by stupid, I mean anything that will take you away from me. I’m a selfish bastard, and I want lots of years with you.”
Despite the situation, she smiled. “We’re on the same page, Gabe. I’ll leave the call connected, but I’m putting the phone in my pocket. I love you.”
“Love me enough to make sure you make it back to our bed tonight safe and sound.”
“No place I’d rather be,” she managed to say through her uneven breaths before slipping the device into her pocket and focusing on the task at hand.
She had the advantage of tennis shoes rather than dress shoes, and while her body was battered, so was Aiden’s. She was also a runner. If nothing else, she’d pull a Muhammad Ali and wait for Aiden to tire himself out before going on the attack.
Keeping her steps as light as possible, she picked up her pace and tuned her ears for any signs that he’d left the trail.
Other than her breaths and the soft thud of her feet hitting the packed dirt, the night remained quiet.
No crashing through the underbrush or sudden exodus of startled animals.
Just her and the pale brown path winding its way through the dark forest, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the tall pines.
With her senses alert to every noise and sight, she focused on her prey. Fifty strides passed before she caught her first glimpse of him since she’d headed into the woods. A flash of his pale skin against the shadows of the forests.
She grinned. Neither of them knew these woods, but she had allies. Allies that could track her. Allies that did know the area—every inch of it. All she had to do was stick near Aiden. All she had to do was keep him in sight and tonight, his reign of corruption and predation would come to an end.
Her ribs ached, but she’d found her breath and fell into a rhythm. Ahead of her, Aiden faltered. He didn’t stop, but his steps slowed, and he stumbled every few strides. Intentionally, she fell back. The more he winded himself, the more tired he got, the easier quarry he’d be.
“Fuck!” The shout echoed through the forest, and several birds took flight from nearby trees. For being a sixty-four-year-old businessman, she would have expected a more interesting vocabulary.
Unsure what caused his outburst and erring on the side of caution, she slowed even more. When she drew close enough to hear Aiden’s labored breathing, harsh and unnatural, courtesy of the broken nose she’d given him, she dropped to a walk.
Rounding the next bend, she paused, her gaze sweeping the area from the safety of the tree line. They’d run out onto a point. Onto a point that ended in a cliff on three sides. The only way back was the way they’d come. Or over the edge.
She smiled. Judging by Aiden’s reaction—and the distant rush of whitewater rapids—she’d wager that a trip over the ledge to the river below wasn’t survivable.
Dropping down, she slid the knife from her ankle holder, then stepped out of the woods.
Her target turned to face her. His fury now fear.
“Hello, Aiden,” she said. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”