Chapter 10
Ten
HARPER PRESSED against the front window—her cold hands resting against the glass panes. She shifted, trying to see Deckard and what had his attention.
Her breath blew small circles on the window, frost clinging to the panes in snowflake patterns.
Deck was somewhere out there, heavy snow once again starting to fall. The thick mass marred nearly everything until she finally spotted Deck heading for the house with Christian.
Her heart ramped up.
Settle down. There’s nothing to fear. And yet her fear had been triggered. She streamed out a slow breath and moved back toward the den.
Rounding the corner, she smacked into something hard.
Grabbing her in a choke hold, a man covered her mouth with his other hand. “Scream and you’re dead. You were both supposed to be asleep. I’m going to get out of here, and you are not going to stand in my way. Do you understand?”
She nodded as much as she was able in his tight hold.
“Good. Now move.”
He pushed her forward with his chest against her back, still choking her. She gasped for air.
The space around her swirled as she clawed at his hand on her neck. He led her into Deck’s office, and she struggled in his hold—squirming, stomping on his foot.
“You asked for this,” he said.
He shoved her into the closet. She tumbled forward. Excruciating pain shot through her skull, and everything went black.
Harper’s eyes blinked open. Splitting pain radiated in her skull. Reaching for her head, she winced at the tenderness surrounding a large lump.
She blinked in the dark.
Grabbling to her feet, she then held out her hands, trying to feel where she was.
A wall . . . another wall . . . another wall—so closed in. She spun in a disoriented circle as bile burned up her throat.
Please, Lord, not another box.
Why’d she bother praying? She’d prayed every day in that metal container, and every day another hostage was taken, never to return.
The final wall of the enclosed box held a door. Thank you.
She banged on the door with all her might.
Nothing.
She struggled to open her mouth to scream, but her lips wouldn’t move. Reaching up to her mouth, she found duct tape across it. With a yank and a searing burn, she ripped it off and fought to find her scream. Her voice hoarse, her words choked.
She banged the door again, her hands throbbing.
Finally, she found her voice. “Help! Help me!”
Hot tears streaked down her face, stinging where the duct tape had been.
“Harper!” Deck yelled.
“Here,” she screamed.
“Harp!” His voice grew closer.
“Here!” Panic swallowed her. “Get me out of this box.” Please.
Desperation clawed at her as sobs erupted in her chest, thumping it.
“Please.” She banged on the door.
It swung open, and she lunged into Deckard’s arms.
Deck wrapped his arms around Harper as she burrowed into his chest. He’d never felt anything more right than her in his hold. Again, she didn’t flinch, just curled up in his embrace—duct tape clinging to her hair.
“Shh. It’s okay. They’re gone now.”
“The one in the house too?” she asked, looking up at him with panicked eyes, and it broke his heart.
“Christian is clearing the house now. I came straight for you.”
Christian rounded the corner, his chest heaving. “We’re clear.” His gaze flashed to Harper. “You okay?”
She nodded, the motion rubbing against Deck’s chest.
“Any idea which way he went?” Christian asked.
She shook her head. “He knocked me out and locked me in the closet.” She shook her head again—slower this time. “What is that?” She grappled for the tape.
“Hang on,” Deck said, trying to help.
The harder she tugged, the heavier her breathing. “Get. It. Off.”
“It’s in your hair and attached to the chain of your necklace. Just a minute. Christian, hit the overhead light.”
“Of course.” Light bathed the room.
The sticky side of the tape had a clump of her hair.
“I’ve got it,” Deck said. “I’m trying to be easy so I don’t tear your hair. One small rip and it’s off. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He eased the tape off, pulling one or two strands of hair with it. “All good, except your necklace chain.”
“My locket.” Her hand reached for it.
“It’s caught on the tape by your ear. One sec.” He struggled to free the delicate gold chain.
“It was a gift from a dear friend. It can’t break. She’s gone. I can’t lose this too.”
Gone? Taylor? He didn’t say her name, just worked to free the chain from the tape. “I’ve almost got it. Stand still if you can. One more piece.”
She held as still as a snowman, and after a moment, it was off.
“You’re clear.”
“It’s okay?” She held on to the gold heart with the white background and a pink rose.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s just special to me. . . . I can’t lose it.”
“It’s okay. All good.”
She nodded and leaned back into him.
Christian moved for the door.
“Hey, man,” Deck whispered, his voice hoarse.
Christian paused and glanced back. “Yeah?”
“Did you see the guy inside?” He hadn’t.
“I thought I saw someone jump in the SUV when it stopped, but I’m not certain.”
“Why were they here?” Harp asked, her head still resting against his chest.
“My bet is Big Max is looking for Art,” Christian said.
“Great.” Deckard sighed. “Dad’s brought us trouble again.”