Chapter 57
The woods closed in. Even the birds had stopped chirping.
Dana ran hard, the only sound her ragged breath tearing in and out of her chest. Branches lashed at her arms. Thorns ripped at her clothes and skin. Her leg screamed with every step. The memory of the dog’s teeth where they’d torn skin was still burning hot beneath the pain. God, she hated dogs.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t look back. She still had a chance, as long as that damn dog wasn’t chasing her.
Behind her, voices cut through the trees. Calm. Precise. The sharp, disciplined movement of men who didn’t charge in blindly.
That was worse than shouting.
Men who didn’t panic didn’t make mistakes. They didn’t rush. They closed nets.
Her car was close. It had to be. She could make it. Then she’d drive somewhere nobody could find her and wait it out. Heal. Regroup. She wasn’t done with Mia Whitmore. Not even close.
She crashed through the undergrowth, fueled by adrenaline. She could do this. She was doing this.
Then her foot caught.
She slammed onto the ground, the impact driving the air from her lungs. For a second, there was nothing. No sound. No breath.
A scream tore out of her before she could stop it.
She gasped, sucking air back in. The pain was overwhelming. She told herself to embrace it, to ignore it. Pain was temporary. Pain could be survived.
She pushed up, made it two steps. Then her leg gave out.
Another scream ripped free as she clawed at a tree, nails scraping bark, and slid down to one knee. Her breath came fast and shallow now, panic crawling up her spine.
Damn it.
When she got out of this, she was definitely hitting the gym. Maybe even hiring a trainer. Something to make sure this never happened again.
She tried to stand again.
“Don’t.”
The word landed like a physical blow.
She froze.
A big brute stood ahead of her, his weapon trained dead center. His face was unreadable. Not angry. Just final.
She frantically glanced through the trees. Open space. Shadows. Gaps in the trees that promised nothing. If she could just get up, just move …
Move where?
Run on one leg? Even if she could?
Another man stepped into view. Then another. Quiet. Guns drawn, faces taut with focus.
It felt unreal. Like something she’d watched on television in the safety of her home, far removed from consequences and pain.
Hands grabbed her from behind, ignoring her yelp as her arms were wrenched back. Her wrists were locked tight. The cuffs bit into her skin.
Absurd.
That was the word that stuck.
What was she going to do? Limp away? Hobble into the trees and vanish?
A giggle bubbled up, escaping before she could stop it. It kept coming, spilling out of her in little bursts she couldn’t quite control.
“Suspect in custody,” one of the men said into a radio.
So calm, like he was reporting the weather.
Dana stared at the dirt on her boots, her laughter finally fading, and thought, I don’t deserve this.
Back at the kitchen barn, Caleb didn’t let go of Mia.
Not when the sirens faded into the distance. Not when the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving her trembling. He stayed on the floor with her, one arm around her shoulders, the other firm at her back, holding her upright while the shaking tore through her.
He murmured to her low and steady, words she barely registered but felt all the same. You’re safe. I’ve got you.
The sound of his voice slowed her just enough. The panic loosened a fraction.
He didn’t rush her. Didn’t tell her to breathe slower. He just stayed solid and unmovable until her body finally believed it.
Gradually, the tremors softened. Her breathing evened out. Her grip on his shirt loosened, the panic dulling.
When Nate’s voice came through Caleb’s radio, Caleb closed his eyes for a brief second. Just long enough to let the tension drain from his shoulders, to unclench his jaw.
“Good,” he said simply.
It wasn’t a celebration. Just confirmation that the net had closed.
Mia sighed with relief, lowering her forehead to rest on his shoulder. The barn felt quieter now. Safer.
Minutes passed.
Then, claws clicked softly on the wood floor.
Ranger appeared in the doorway, mud-streaked and breathing steadily, eyes alert. He crossed straight to Mia and settled at her feet, watchful and calm as if he’d never been anywhere else.
Guarding.
Mia reached down automatically, her fingers sinking into his fur. Ranger leaned into her touch, then went still again.
For the first time since Dana had come at her, Mia believed it.
It was over.