Fatal Vendetta. Sharon Dunn

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      Maybe it was up to her to escape on her own. She squeezed her eyes shut. Think, Elizabeth. He’s stronger than you, but he’s not smarter.

      “It would be nice if we could talk. If you would just tell me why I matter to you.” She chose her words carefully, struggling not to go into reporter mode. She wanted to know where this man knew her from, but the wrong sort of question might fuel his violence. Instead, she tried for an emotional connection to him.

      His rough fingers rubbed against the vulnerable spot on her neck where he gripped her shirt collar.

      His reaction was slow in coming as though he were processing what she had said. Did he realize she was manipulating him?

      “Elizabeth Kramer, big-time reporter.” He expelled the words in a single breath as though he’d been punched in the stomach. “You’re just so smart, aren’t you?”

      She kept her voice to a soft whisper, hoping that would persuade him. “Why can’t we talk? Can you tell me your first name?”

      He tightened his grip on her neck. Panic shot through her like a bullet. She’d overplayed her hand.

      “You should know who I am.” His words dripped with indignation.

      “Really, why?” Talking to him didn’t seem to be helping, but she refused to let the fear win. She would get away no matter what it took. Her father had taught her how to defend herself.

      While he was distracted by her question, she leaned against him and rammed her elbow into his stomach. He grunted. The grip on her neck loosened. She burst forward and angled to the side, wriggling her hands free from the wire. In the darkness, she could feel his hands on her, grasping, trying to get a hold.

      Keep fighting.

      She stumbled forward into the dark forest. He grabbed her shirt at the hem, yanked her back. She turned and smashed her flat palm against where she thought his face was. Skin smacked against skin.

      She ran again, his footsteps at her heels. She could make out very little in the darkness. The roughness of the terrain told her she wasn’t on a road or trail. If she could get back to the car, maybe he’d left the keys in the ignition.

      Her heart raged in her chest as she zigzagged, turning in a wide circle back to where they’d been. The sound of his footsteps dimmed. She ran faster.

      The abandoned house came into view. She slowed her pace. No human noise reached her ears. The trees thinned, becoming more like bushes. She crouched lower.

      She slipped out from behind a bush. Still bent over, she started toward where she remembered the car being. The landscape was nothing more than shadows.

      She peered through the darkness, trying to discern objects. No car. She must have come around to the back of the house. A branch broke off to the side of her. Desperate to hide, she scrambled toward the house, slipped inside and pressed against a rough wooden wall. The drumming of her heart in her ear threatened to drown out all other sound.

      She still couldn’t see the car through the window. It must be on the other side of the trees.

      She crouched on the floor, working her way toward the door. Her eyes adjusted enough so she could make out the outline of an object on the floor. She crawled toward it, careful not to make the floorboards creak.

      Her hand reached out, touching the cold metal of a chain. The air left her lungs with a whoosh as a chill struck the marrow of her bones. Groping in the dark, she followed the chain to a set of manacles at the end. Her lungs compressed. The abduction had been planned. He was going to keep her as a prisoner here.

      A foot padded on wood. She whirled around to see a hulking figure in the doorway.

      She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Terror embedded deep into her muscles. She couldn’t move.

      He pounded across the floor, grabbed her by the elbows and lifted her up.

      “Don’t you dare try to get away from me.” Rage colored every word.

      Spit hit her face. His anger gave her the will to fight. Even though her ribs hurt, she kicked and twisted her body. But it was no use. His arm didn’t budge from around her waist. A claw-like hand grabbed her hair, rendering her immobile.

      Below her, the chain glistened in the moonlight.

      “I want to know...what I did to you. I want to make it right.”

      “Liar.” He tossed her to floor, the impact sending reverberations up her knees and agony through her ribs. He reached for the chain. She crawled on all fours to get away, but he grabbed for her. His grip on her ankle was like iron.

      She could feel herself shutting down and the world going black as ten-year-old memories crashed in from all sides.

      Oh, God, help me.

      Adrenaline coursed through her like a raging river of fire. She was not going to be his prisoner. And she was not going to die out here. She clenched her teeth, flipped over and kicked with her free leg.

      Bright lights shone suddenly through the broken glass of the window. A car was coming down the hill toward the house.

      He let go of her ankle, grabbed her at the shoulders and pulled her close.

      “Looks like the cavalry is here. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Just remember, the next time you go to a story, it might be me who created it to lure you there. You will never feel safe again.”

      His words seemed to linger in the air even as his footsteps pounded across the floor. She sat stunned. A car engine started up outside.

      Footsteps pounded toward her. Arms surrounded her and lifted her from the floor.

      “It’s going to be all right, Elizabeth. I’m here. The police are on their way.” Zach’s voice reverberated softly in her ear.

      She pressed close to his chest and thanked God Zach had found her.

       THREE

      Zachery placed the steaming cup of coffee in Elizabeth’s hand while the activity of the police station buzzed around them.

      He pressed his hand against hers, making sure she had a grip on the cup. “Probably not the tastiest, but it will warm you up.”

      Elizabeth stared straight ahead, not focusing on anything. His heart squeezed tight with empathy. This was not the same confident woman he enjoyed bantering with. He’d seen the same effect on soldiers. The violence she’d witnessed must have stripped her bare, left every emotion raw and exposed and turned her brain into shredded mush.

      “Go ahead, have a sip. I put three sugars in it.” His hand still covered hers. He feared she would drop the coffee if he pulled away.

      She drew the cup to her lips. He sat in the hard plastic chair beside her. He couldn’t leave her, not in the state she was in.

      “It’s not too bad.” She stared СКАЧАТЬ