Читать книгу Abducted - Samantha Keith - Страница 11

Chapter 4

A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was the first thing that tugged her out of the deep sleep.

Cramps?

No. That wasn’t it. What the heck was the matter with her? Her body rose and dropped involuntarily. Nausea bubbled in her throat. She wanted to sit up, but her head weighed a ton. Why was she so dizzy? She pulled her knees in closer to her chest. She reached for her stomach…but couldn’t budge her hands. She tried again. Something tugged on her wrists. An alarm went off in her head. She dared to open one eye, just a slit.

This wasn’t her bed. It wasn’t even soft. What was this rough, scratchy blanket around her? She opened both eyes. Nausea hit her like a punch to the solar plexus. She closed her eyes on another wave. She was moving. No, she was in something that was moving—a vehicle.

Her heart beat rapidly against her breastbone. Terror sank its sharp teeth into her flesh. She was lying on the floor of a vehicle, her wrists bound, her body covered. She took a soundless deep breath and tried to calm herself. What was the last thing she remembered?

She had gone out, that’s right. To a nightclub, and she had gone with friends. Carly had given her a ride home. She remembered the whole night—had she even been drunk? She had gone to bed, she was sure of it. She remembered washing up and curling up in her cozy, warm sheets…but nothing after that.

No, wait. Something had scared her.

The rest flooded back with the force of a tidal wave. She could still taste the sweet-smelling rag.

She had to stay calm. Had to stay calm and think. From where she lay, she couldn’t see the driver, but she was able to see the front passenger seat, and it was empty. She glanced to her side, only to discover that there weren’t any seats for any other passengers. She was in a pickup truck with the back seats folded up. Either this man was the one and only kidnapper, or he was the one doing the kidnap and delivery. If he wasn’t the mastermind, he was surely bringing her to that person.

Her best—and maybe only—chance at escape would be when he came to remove her from the vehicle. He would expect her to be unconscious. If he was alone and not meeting anyone, she might just have a chance. Her mind was foggy, but she remembered one thing for sure: This guy was big. Not fat, but very fit and muscular. She couldn’t say how tall he was because she hadn’t been standing next to him, but judging by the length of his body against hers, he was tall as well. He had been strong. Even though he had overpowered her easily, she had sensed that he had been holding back.

The restraints at her wrists bit into her skin. Even if she found a weapon, she wouldn’t be able to use it. The radio was on, but it was barely audible. If she moved at all, he would surely hear.

Why, oh why, had she been so darn stubborn about those self-defense classes her father had wanted her to take? He had been pushing them on her for as long as she could remember. She worked out regularly, and did yoga and Pilates, although she doubted any of that would help her. Unless she could throw him off with her three-legged-dog pose.

Her only option would be to attack him when he opened the door. The idea of putting herself into an upright position turned her stomach. There would only be one window of opportunity. How long had they been driving? She couldn’t see anything except the dark night sky whizzing past the window. Her head spun. She closed her eyes to fight off the nausea. She needed more time, at least another hour or two. She noted the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore. They were somewhere along the coast. That could be anywhere, but at least she had an idea of her surroundings. She would do anything she had to do to get away. This pervert might think he had picked an easy target, but he was sorely mistaken. Anger surged through her. If she had to, she would gouge his eyes out with her fingers. There was no way she would let him touch her.

No way. She would die protecting herself.

She lay as still as she could and took soft, deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. She had to stay calm and levelheaded. The more oxygen she could get in, the better, right?

They traveled for another half hour, without any signs of stopping. She was still struggling with calming her nerves when her body rolled forward and her nose went under the driver’s seat. Were they slowing down? Her pulse kicked up and knocked against her throat so hard she was afraid he would hear it. He turned onto what sounded like a gravel road. The uneven terrain bounced her around. She bit her tongue and tried to keep her body from rolling. A few minutes later, the vehicle lurched to a halt. She had to stay calm. If he suspected that she was awake, she would have a snowball’s chance in hell at escape. The soft click of his seat belt unfastening sounded like a gunshot to her ears.

Brrring, brrring!

She jumped out of her skin at the piercing ring of a cell phone.

“Hello?” he barked into the phone, his irritation at the caller apparent. She shuddered at the sound of his voice. He sounded rough, mean, and pissed. Well, he was going to be even more pissed in a minute.

“Things didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. She put up a good fight and made some noise.” His tone was terse. She waited as he listened to the voice on the other end.

“Of course I have her. She’s out cold right now. I’ll finish the job as planned, but I needed to get the hell out before I got caught.” She could hear a barely audible voice on the other end of the phone, but she couldn’t make out what it was saying. The job? What did that mean? The bottom of her stomach dropped out.

He was going to kill her.

Her kidnapper muttered something that sounded derogatory, then disconnected. The driver’s side door opened and closed.

She tensed. This was it. She only had one shot. The crunch, crunch, crunch of gravel alerted her that he was making his way to the other side of the vehicle. The door at her feet opened, and a whoosh of cold, salty air swarmed around her. She forced herself to relax her muscles, going limp.

His large, rough hands grabbed her ankles. Even through the blanket, she could feel the muscle behind his grip. In one swift motion, he dragged her toward the door. The blanket slid up and covered her face even more. Her legs dangled off the side of the vehicle. He reached in to grab her arms and haul her up.

Her eyes snapped open and she catapulted up. Her bound hands formed one large fist. Her attacker jumped. His hands poised to restrain her. It was too late. She swung and slammed him in the face with her balled-up fists. He staggered back, but not far enough. Her head swam as the world tilted on its axis. She lost her balance and collapsed against the passenger seat beside her.

“Sonofabitch!” he yelped as blood streamed from his mouth. She took a deep breath and summoned all of her strength. She locked her ankles together and kicked him like a kangaroo. Her bare feet collided with his manhood. He yelped in pain but didn’t collapse as she’d hoped. He sagged against the vehicle, his hands clasping his jewels. A string of raging curse words spewed from his mouth.

She leapt out of the truck. Her gelatin-like legs hit the ground. The impact made her knees give out. She crumpled to the ground like a wet towel.

In a heartbeat, she staggered to her feet. Her breath was strangled and shallow as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her weight. The metallic taste of panic flooded her mouth. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she ran. Her feet were unstable, her movements clumsy. The crisp night air whipped her in the face. Her hair flew in front of her eyes and blocked her vision. She slapped it away.

The night was black; the only illumination came from the moon shining over the ocean and cascading over the beach. Her feet carved up the soft sand. She struggled to stay upright as each step sucked her foot in. Sand flew around her, the grains sharp as they pelted her legs and face. There was nothing around her, nowhere to go for help. Only one lone house was on her left—the place he was taking her. A scream bubbled in her throat. The wind swallowed it up. He was close. Her chest constricted with every painful gulp of air she forced into her lungs.

Dammit, she had never been a runner! The hairs on the back of her neck prickled to attention. Her kidnapper was in pursuit, but she didn’t dare waste a millisecond to look. She had gotten a head start, but her lack of concentration and balance, combined with his advanced physical prowess, assured her that he would be on her heels. There was nowhere for her to run. He was going to catch her. He would be angry that she had gotten away, and even angrier that she had gotten in those lucky shots.

If he caught her, he would kill her.

She wouldn’t last more than a minute or two now. He was gaining on her, and her muscles were weakening like air deflating from a tire. In her white clothes, she would be as bright as a spotlight running across the sand, a perfect target as the moonlight gleamed off of her pale coloring. Her only chance was the ocean. She wasn’t a strong swimmer, never had been. Add in the fact that her wrists were tied, and she was likely to sink like a stone.

She had to try. She would rather die drowning than let him catch her. Using all her strength, she pushed herself the last hundred feet to the shore. Her feet cut through the water. Her splashes shattered the silence of the night. She gasped as she struggled through the waves. Her sharp breaths were the only sound that penetrated her consciousness, drowning out the fear and panic that echoed through her ears like white noise.

It was freezing cold. She sucked in her breath. Her body resisted the frigid temperature. His feet thundered through the wet sand behind her. She trudged deeper. He was close. His gaze burned through the back of her head like the laser of a sniper.

The water reached her upper thighs and she dove under. The icy cold waves washed over her head. Her vision blurred. She kicked downward with all her might, trying to disappear in the shroud of the water. The water was deeper now and getting colder. She kicked harder. Her lungs tightened. Her bound hands made it impossible to paddle or swim. All she could do was kick. The duct tape dug into her wrists. Without the use of her hands, she was a sitting duck if she surfaced.

Her chest ached, and threatened to explode. She needed air. She surged to the surface and gulped in air greedily as she came up. A wave of salty water smashed into her. The salt burned her eyes, and whipped her hair in front of her face like a wet mop. She could hear his splashes behind her. Oh God, he was close!

She forced herself to take in another gulp of air, and went under again. He was going to catch her. Her heart beat violently. She kicked and wiggled her body, every inch putting more distance between her and the madman.

Her lungs and chest screamed. Her arms and legs burned with exhaustion and prickled with the cold. She needed air again, but she needed to get farther. A little more …

A big, strong hand grabbed her calf and yanked her backward. The pinch of his hand made her gasp. Salt water poured into her mouth and nose as another wave hit. She stomped her feet back against him, kicking him anywhere she could reach. She might as well have been kicking a wall, for all the good it did. He had her harnessed. One arm locked around her waist, his other snagged her hair and yanked her head out of the water.

Her body betrayed her. Grateful for the breath of air, she sucked in frantically, only to have water sputter out simultaneously.

“Are you crazy?” he bellowed at her as he treaded water, holding her weight as well as his.

“Let me go!” she screamed. It came out in a croak. He turned them both around and paddled back in the direction of the shore. Reality hit her like a lightning bolt: She’d been caught. She splashed wildly.

“Hold still, dammit! You’ll drown us both!” he snarled as he readjusted his arm across her chest; his palm now gripped the underside of her ribs. She tossed herself back against him and slammed the back of her head into his. The blow made her ears ring and stars flash in front of her eyes.

“Goddammit! This is your last warning. Hold still or I’ll knock you out!” His threat didn’t affect her. Once they reached land, she was a goner. She took a brief moment to take in another breath before she went for what could be her last shot.

Ducking her head down, she bit as hard as she could on his forearm. The tinny taste of blood touched her tongue. He thrashed his arm, releasing his hold. She shot her legs back and kicked herself away. Before she could kick again and swim, his hand sank into her hair and snapped her back painfully. A sharp blow to her head caused her muscles to go lax. Her eyes rolled back. She swallowed up the dark, inky waves.