Secret Surrogate

Of course, she couldn’t rule out that they were taking her to a secondary crime scene, a place where they could finish her off and dispose of her body without leaving any forensic evidence behind.

She added some mental groans to her mental profanity. She couldn’t give in to these what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. If she did, she’d likely die.

Instead, she focused on the lake, on what she knew about it. After all, it was as familiar to her as her own home. It was where she took daily walks and did most of her writing. She figured that the men had parked off the road. If she got a break, one little distraction, she could dive into the water, and, uh…

Probably drown.

Yes. Drown.

Another mental groan. She was already so dizzy that she couldn’t stay focused. Heaven only knew what would happen to her in the water.

Okay. Plan A was discarded. She moved on to Plan B. Too bad she couldn’t think of one. Sweet heaven, her head was spinning and she felt on the verge of throwing up. Still, she fought through that haze and forced herself to think. She had to come up with something.

The thudding noise and the howl of pain jarred open her eyes. Not that she could see much. But she was able to determine that the other man was no longer in front of them. He was on the ground, writhing and groaning.

“What the hell?” the one holding her growled, a split second before he let go of her.

Kylie managed to protect her stomach and break the fall with her hands. She immediately got to her knees so that she could get away and scurried behind a tree. It wasn’t easy but, dragging her way through the underbrush and soggy dead leaves, she somehow got there. It took her a few seconds to realize that her captor wasn’t coming after her.

It took a few more to realize why.

One of the men was still on the ground. And he was the one who was moaning and holding on to his leg. However, the other guy aimed his gun at a shadowy figure that appeared between two trees.

Lucas.

He’d come back.

“Lucas!” she called out to warn him. It wasn’t her best effort. More breath than voice. She sounded drunk and, worse, felt that way, too.

Still, he reacted. Lucas darted to her side just as the guy fired at him. The shot blasted through the woods, clipping a tree and spraying splinters and bark. The sound was deafening and shook her to the core. Not just because it drilled home the danger for herself and the baby, but because Lucas was now in danger, as well.

Oh, God.

And she was responsible for him being here.

If he were hurt, or worse, it would be her fault. Kylie wasn’t sure she could live with that. She’d already caused enough devastation in his life.

Frantically, she searched the ground, looking for anything she could use to defend them. The dizziness and nausea didn’t help. Still, she kept searching, raking aside the leaves, and finally came up with a thick, long tree limb. It wouldn’t be much protection against a semiautomatic, but if she got close enough, she could do some damage.

Well, maybe.

With her focus fading in and out, she probably wouldn’t be much of a threat even if she’d had a loaded gun.

She peeked out from behind the tree. Neither of the kidnappers was anywhere in sight. Great. Just great. They could come at her and Lucas from any direction and, considering that she could only move slowly, she’d be a sitting duck.

“Shhh.” The sound was barely audible, but it was the only warning she got before Kylie felt a rough hand clamp over her mouth.

She automatically struggled, trying to defend herself with the tree branch, but the man—and it was definitely a man—pulled her to him. Right against his solid, rock-hard body. Her face landed against a buckskin coat. A familiar coat.

With an equally familiar scent.

“It’s me,” Lucas whispered. Without making a sound, he eased forward and positioned himself in front of her, using his body as a shield to protect her.

Kylie quietly laid down the branch and checked to make sure he wasn’t injured. Even with the full hunter’s moon, she couldn’t see much. Well, not much except the stalwart, determined expression on Lucas’s face.

Lucas didn’t take his vigilant gaze off their surroundings. He reached over, the fingertips of his left hand skimming over her stomach.

The baby kicked.

Right on the spot where Lucas was touching her.

If Lucas had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he readjusted her robe. Putting it back in place. Most likely so that she’d stay warm. In all the chaos, she hadn’t realized that the only thing between her stomach and the cold night air was a thin white cotton gown.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She hadn’t been injured in the fall, but every muscle in her body was already aching and stiff from the fight and the adrenaline. Then, there was the chloroform or whatever had been on that cloth. It might be hours, or days, before she knew what effect that would have on her. And the baby. Especially the baby.

“I’m okay.”

And she prayed that was true.

Her reassurance didn’t do a thing to ease his vigilance. He kept his Glock aimed and ready. And she knew for a fact that he had a lethal aim. She only hoped that it was enough to get them out of this alive.

Kylie pulled in her breath and waited. She listened carefully, but all she could hear was the wind rattling through the towering oak trees. Reality quickly began to sink in. Yes, Lucas was there, and he was armed. And he was good. But sometimes good just wasn’t good enough.

Frowning, scowling really, Lucas brushed his knuckles over her lips. Barely a touch. Kylie flinched at the contact. However, she welcomed it in a weird, surreal sort of way. Human contact, even if it happened to be from Lucas, felt pretty comforting.

“You’re humming,” he whispered. “Out loud.”

Kylie stopped, considered that. “Am I?” she whispered back.

A crisp nod. “‘Jingle Bells.’”

No surprise there. Humming perky, out-of-season tunes was her way of dealing with stress. And right now, she was dealing with a lot of stress.

“Sorry,” she offered, and she clamped her teeth over her lip to make sure it didn’t happen again.

But her stress level soared when she heard someone moving through the woods.

Her heart began to pound even harder than before. She forced herself to breathe normally so that she wouldn’t hyperventilate.

Beside her, Lucas didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle. Definitely no threat of hyperventilation for him. Everything in him seemed to still, like a jungle cat waiting to move in for the kill.

The sounds continued. They were closer now. Definitely footsteps. Despite the roar in her ears, she could measure the pace of whoever was walking. Slow, methodical steps. Not from the side, but from behind them.

God, from behind them.

They were about to be ambushed.