Colters' Woman (Colters' Legacy #1)(56)

Then she heard footsteps. Slow, wary footsteps. Closer they came until they stopped outside the door. She sucked in her breath and battled the panic that threatened to overtake her.

“Holly, it’s me. Open the door.”

She surged from the toilet and yanked open the door. She threw herself into Ryan’s arms. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure. I’ve checked the house, the grounds. The fuses are fine, no cut wires. Must be trouble in the line.”

She sighed in relief. “I was scared.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Come on out into the living room. I want you where I can see you. I’ll build up the fire.”

She followed him down the hallway, her hand tucked securely into his. As they stepped into the living room, a shadow darted into her line of vision. Before she could react, a shot rang out and Ryan jerked. He fell to the floor inches from her feet.

Holly screamed. Oh God, Ryan had been shot! She dropped to the floor, uncaring of the danger to her. “Ryan! Ryan!” she screamed.

She ran her hands across his chest, and they came away warm and sticky. Blood.

Pain exploded in her head as someone yanked her up by her hair. She reacted in fury, kicking and hitting. The dark figure threw her away from him, and she hit the wall. Before she could run, he was on her. He backhanded her across the face, knocking her to the floor.

She lay there stunned, pain flashing in her vision. The attacker yanked her hands behind her and slapped handcuffs on her. She struggled wildly, but he had her pinned beneath his knee. He bent her legs, putting them together then he snapped a pair of cuffs around her ankles.

“Get off me, you bastard!” she shrieked.

He slapped her again then shoved a cloth in her mouth. Then he tied a bandana around her head, securing the gag. With his knee still squarely in her back, he fumbled for a minute then she heard the beeping of a phone. He was calling someone. Who?

“I’ve got her,” he said. “Yeah. Taken care of.” He paused for a minute. “I’m taking her to the cabin. It’s remote. No one will find her, and I’ll make sure all loose ends are tied up.”

He clapped the phone shut then grabbed her arms and hauled her up. “You and I are going for a ride, bitch.”

He dragged her toward the door, and she stared back at Ryan, straining to see him in the dim light. Tears flooded her eyes. Ryan. Oh God. The bastard had killed him.

Sobs welled in her throat, escaping around the gag. A blast of cold air washed over her naked legs as the attacker pulled her outside into the snow. Her skimpy nightwear offered no protection from the biting cold.

As if she were nothing, the man threw her over his shoulder and headed for the road. A few minutes later, he stopped and dumped her into the ditch.

She looked up to see a dark vehicle, an SUV of some type. The man yanked open the back then turned to pull her up. He threw her into the back, and she landed with a thump, all the breath knocked from her.

He slammed the door, and seconds later, she heard the driver’s door open and then the engine started.

Grief and rage poured over her, swirling, a storm she couldn’t control. She ignored the cold, her injuries, she could only think of Ryan lying lifeless on the floor.

The SUV rounded a corner, jostling her. Something smooth and cool slid into her chin. It took her a moment to realize it was a cell phone. He must have dropped it when he threw her in the back.

Her heart beat furiously as she tried to figure out a way she could use the phone. Her hands were secured behind her back, her legs were handcuffed, and the cloth was stuffed in her mouth.

First the gag had to go. She slid her head repeatedly on the floor, trying to move the bandana down her head. After several agonizing attempts, she felt the bandana slip and loosen. She scrubbed her cheek until finally she worked the bandana down around her neck.

She chewed and worked her tongue, shoving the cloth from her mouth. Finally it fell and she sucked in huge breaths, trying to make the panic subside.

Getting the phone open would be tricky. She rolled and contorted her body, flipping over to her other side. She wiggled her fingers, reaching, straining for the phone. Her fingers slid over the surface, and she dug her fingers into the seam until finally she cracked it open.

She glanced her fingers over the buttons, feeling for which was which. Awkwardly, she pushed one, then another until finally she had the sequence of Adam’s cell phone number inputted. Then she felt for the send button, praying she guessed right.

As soon as she pressed the last button, she rolled and squirmed, rotating back over until her mouth and ear were close to the receiver.

Let him answer, she prayed. Let him answer.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bitter cold pierced Adam’s heavy coat. They’d finally been able to pick up a faint trail in the snow about a mile outside of town. He and Ethan shined their floodlights over the terrain, moving as quickly through the drifts as possible.

Heavy, wet flakes fell, covering the tracks almost as quickly as they could find them.

“There’s a shed just ahead,” Adam shouted back to Lacey who was bringing up the rear.

He waded through the last heavy drift and shoved his way to the ramshackle shed a few feet away. He grabbed his gun sling and hauled his rifle over his shoulder until his hand curled around the stock.

Ethan shuffled up behind him, rifle trained on the door.