I Know Lucy (A Fugitive #1)(15)

Her head went under again and she thought she could hear a distant yelling, as if the guy was still chasing her. Part of her wanted to stay below the water in case that were true but she didn’t have a chance to make that choice. A hand slapped onto her back and gripped her jacket.

Her body was hauled from the water.

The surprise made her freeze momentarily and the grunting person dragged her onto the dry bank easily.

The shakes started swiftly as she lay on the damp earth. Bark and pine needles dug into her cheek, but all she could do was shake. A hand rubbed her back briefly, then gently picked the wet clumps of hair off her face.

“We need to get you dry and warm,” he muttered. “Come on.” Gripping her upper arm, he helped her to her feet and walked her further into the bush. The shadows grew thick and comforting. Lucy was glad she couldn’t see the details of her captor’s face. She didn’t want to know what he might be thinking.

She kept her eyes on the ground and allowed him to pull her along. Her mind was already ticking with escape plans, but her body was too weak and cold to implement them.

Finally he paused at a clearing. “This’ll do.” Dumping his canvas bag on the ground, he unbuckled it and pulled out a few bits and pieces. Lucy couldn’t see what they were and she didn’t even care.

Cold.

That’s all she could think.

C-c-cold.

Her teeth smashed together as her jaw jumped up and down like a jackhammer. Her insides were quivering. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to control the shivers.

While Lucy focused on getting her knees not to buckle, the guy at her feet scrambled around. A few moments later he was lighting a lantern and laying out a tatty sleeping bag.

“Take your clothes off and get in there.”

Lucy’s fear spiked. She backed away from him and promptly tripped over a tree root, landing on her butt with a thud. Her head was shaking, her mind racing with one sick scenario after another.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you’ll die if you don’t get warm. You have to get out of those wet clothes.”

Lucy knew he was right, but it didn’t help that he was shrugging out of his jacket and pulling off his sweater as he said it.

“Wh-what are you do-doing?”

“Body heat, it’s the only way to really get you warm.”

Breaths spurted from Lucy’s nostrils. Terror was bouncing so fast through her insides she thought she might throw up. “I’m not…I’m not getting naked with you.”

Would he force her?

She tried to push herself up, to get ready to run again.

“You’re what, twelve? I’m not into that sick shit.” He threw his shirt on the ground and walked towards the sleeping bag. Shuffling inside, he held the flap open for her. “Now do you want to live or die?”

The fact that he had left his jeans on was a comfort. Only his chest was bare. Bare and no doubt warm. Lucy closed her eyes and slowly sat forward. With trembling fingers she stripped down to her bra and panties. She noticed the guy was kind enough to look away as she did it.

She felt sick as she stepped towards him and got into the bag. She had to force her limbs to obey. Every part of her wanted to run. Every part except the logical instinct in her brain.

As soon as she snuggled against him, the guy zipped up the sleeping bag, wrapping his thin arm tightly around her. She rested her head on his chest, her convulsing body making it impossible to relax. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she sandwiched them between her thighs until he sighed and grabbed the top one, throwing it over his body and tucking it into his armpit.

He rubbed her shoulders and back, enforcing warmth into her muscles. Slowly, slowly, her body stopped quivering. Lucy closed her eyes and tried to separate her mind from her body.

If she stopped to consider the fact that she was lying practically naked with a total stranger in a grimy sleeping bag, her brain might short circuit.

“What’s your name?” The guy finally asked.

Lucy shook her head.

“It’s Lucy, isn’t it? Like the one on the news?”

Lucy shook her head again, fear clogging her throat.

She went still, tears stinging her eyes. She squeezed them shut and bit her lower lip so hard she thought it might bleed.

“That’s okay.” The guy rubbed her shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything. If you are that girl, I know you didn’t do it.”

“What makes you so sure?” she whispered.

“Because I saw you in that diner. I know that look on your face. That lost, scared kid look.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry about your folks.”

Lucy’s insides spasmed as she drew in a sharp breath.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Lucy sniffed hard, blocking off the emotion before it could drown her. “Is that why you’re helping me? Because I look lost and scared?”

“Pretty much.” He squeezed her. “I’m Marlin, by the way.” Lucy glanced up at him through the darkness. He was gazing up at the sky, his angular jaw tense. “My brother gave me the name when we were kids. He said I was a slippery little fish because I could always get away from my old man before he beat me too bad.”

“So, you’re a runaway then?”