Chapter 13 #2
When they’d reached where he’d hidden his car across the road from her property in a small copse of trees, he’d used the knife to force her into the trunk.
She’d followed his order because she knew how to escape from one.
Years ago, Mark had shown her a video on YouTube after hearing about a woman in California who’d saved herself from a kidnapper after being locked in the trunk of her own car.
If Sage could flip over, she’d be able to do exactly what she’d seen in the demonstration a reporter and police officer had put together.
What Seth planned to do with her, she had no idea, but it couldn’t be good. He’d already hurt or killed Benji, and people didn’t kidnap someone in the middle of the night with a hunting knife because they had something pleasant planned. Crazy was crazy—no need to analyze it until she escaped.
Country music wailed through the rear seat, so she knew it was useless to yell, even if they stopped somewhere.
No one would hear her. The car hit another bump in the road, tossing Sage upward until she struck the top of the trunk before slamming back down.
Almost every inch of her body smarted from the impact.
Pushing what felt like tools, cans, plastic bags, and other junk out of her way, she finally turned over. In the darkness, the glowing emergency trunk release was impossible to miss, just like the one in the video.
When she pulled on the plastic handle, nothing happened, and her heart sank.
She yanked on it again, and her hand flew upward, smacking the metal above her.
The handle came loose and remained in her fist, disconnected from whatever it had been attached to.
Her knuckles stung as if hundreds of angry bees had attacked them, and she knew without looking that she’d taken a few layers of skin off.
The vehicle turned right, and Sage braced herself with her arms and legs. Panic was setting in, and she inhaled deeply, then coughed violently as fumes from exhaust and God-knew-what-else invaded her lungs.
Stay calm and find some way to escape.
She had to do everything she could to get back to her children…
and to Adam. She had to tell them all how much she loved them and risk Adam not feeling the same way.
Somehow, she’d been lucky enough to love two men in her lifetime, and damn it, the second man didn’t even know it.
But Sage would tell him if she got out of there.
When she got out of there.
Another sharp turn sent her rattling around the trunk as the vehicle bounced over bumps and potholes. They had to be on a dirt road, but Sage couldn’t tell where. She’d lost all sense of direction and time not long after being ordered into the trunk.
If he hadn’t held that huge hunting knife so close to her chest, she would have gone on the offensive.
But the man was at least eight inches taller and outweighed her by a good hundred and thirty pounds.
Her best chance was to surprise him with something that would disable him when he opened the trunk again so she could run.
Maybe she could even get the keys from him and drive away, leaving the jerk wherever he’d taken her. She’d call 9-1-1 as soon as she could.
Feeling around in the darkness, she tried to identify the objects in the trunk, hoping for a crowbar or something else she could swing at him. She figured it was too much to ask for Seth to keep a loaded gun back there, but that didn’t stop her from praying for one—or a miracle or two.
The car hit another hard bump, and Sage’s head smacked the trunk frame.
“Ow! Watch the damn potholes, you idiot!” There was no way he’d heard her over the Trace Adkins and Blake Shelton duet blaring from the radio, but venting her anger made her feel a little better. At least it was pushing back the panic.
Her searching fingers found something hard, metallic, and heavy. Grabbing it, she inspected the object with both hands and figured out it was a wrench. She’d be more than happy to throw it at her kidnapper’s head when he opened the trunk.
That was one weapon. Maybe she could find something else.
After another minute of searching and bouncing around in the confined space, she found what felt like a canister. Shaking it, she heard the distinct sound of a pea banging around inside. It was a metal, plastic, or glass ball used to mix aerosol paint.
Perfect.
She could spray the paint in his face and hopefully blind him.
She removed the plastic top and located the spray button and nozzle by touch. It would really suck if she sprayed herself in the face. With the can in her non-dominant hand and the wrench in the other, she was ready to face her abductor—and none too soon.
The vehicle slowed and stopped.
Her heart pounded, and she tried to keep her rage at the forefront of her mind. Hesitating could ruin any chance she had of getting away.
The engine shut off along with the radio, and the sudden silence was almost deafening. The driver’s door opened, and that side of the car rose slightly without the weight of the heavy man on its abused shocks.
Dirt and pebbles crunched under his boots as he strode toward the back of the car. She wanted to take a deep breath to steady her trembling hands, but she couldn’t risk another coughing fit. The scrape of metal against metal as he inserted the key into the lock had her tensing.
The trunk lid lifted, and even with the moon hidden behind clouds, she could see well enough to aim.
She didn’t waste a second.
The paint blasted into his face before he had a chance to react. He roared in anger and pain, stumbling backward as he tried to wipe the paint from his eyes with one hand while lashing out with the hunting knife in the other.
The paint was green, and with his face twisted in fury, he looked like a demented version of the Jolly Green Giant.
Unable to throw the wrench from the confines of the trunk, she dropped the can and used her hands and feet to scramble out of the car. Once standing, she hurled the metal tool directly at his head and was rewarded with a loud thud when it struck just above his temple, dropping him to his knees.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t knocked him out.
Still swinging the knife while trying to clear his vision with his other hand, he struggled to get back on his feet. “Damn it! I’m going to kill you!”
Glancing around, she realized they were in the woods at a dead end on the dirt road. She wouldn’t be able to turn the car around easily, even if she managed to grab the keys lying on the ground beside his knee. She had no choice but to run as if her life depended on it.
And as her kidnapper staggered to his feet, it looked like her life did depend on it.
Taking off at a full run, she headed back up the road they’d come in on. Her cowgirl boots pummeled the gravel beneath them as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Behind her, Seth shouted, “Get back here!”
The sound of his boots on the ground mingled with hers, and she didn’t dare take a glance back.
She needed to keep her eyes on what was ahead of her in the dim moonlight.
Sage thought she was in good physical condition from all the hard work of ranch life, but her lungs and legs weren’t used to sprinting long distances, and both burned.
An “oomph” behind her was followed by more cursing. He must have tripped but recovered, because she heard him running again.
“Damn it, Sage! Stop!”
The end of the dirt road was approaching, and she racked her brain to remember which direction they’d come from.
She could swear they’d made a right turn, which meant she had to go left.
Gasping for air, she pushed her aching legs harder, but Seth was gaining on her.
Without conscious thought, she glanced over her shoulder and saw there was only about ten feet between them.
She wasn’t going to make it. Even if she made it onto the paved road, he’d be on her before she could get much farther.
Her foot hit something, and she stumbled, the momentum sending her skidding onto the pavement just as headlights rounded a bend.
Everything happened so fast, she was sure she would be struck and killed, but she was frozen like a deer facing the same fate.
A screech of brakes on asphalt had her throwing her hands up in front of her face—as if that would save her—and the truck fishtailed out of control.
It missed her by inches as it flew off the road and into a tree.
The crunch of metal and breaking glass was deafening as the vehicle slammed to a stop, then faded until all she heard was the engine hissing and the hammering of her own heart.
She took a few steps to see if whoever was in there was okay and could help her, but a large hand clamped down on her shoulder and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up short. A scream pierced the night, and it took a moment for her to realize it came from her own throat.