Hitched and Hunted

Jake looked across the van at his wife, who continued to stare at their captor, her eyes ablaze with unadulterated hatred. “Mariah?”

Her gaze turned slowly to meet his, and the rage died, leaving only despair in its wake. Tears welled and spilled over her bottom lashes, trickling down her cheeks.

His gut knotting, Jake waited for her to tell him Victor was lying, that he was crazy. But she just looked down at her feet, teardrops splattering the muddy metal floorboard between her shoes.

“Your wife has kept secrets from you, Jake.” Victor’s voice nearly quivered with anticipation.

“Is that what this is all about?” Jake asked, his gaze still fastened on Mariah’s downturned face. “You knew each other before? What—he’s Micah’s father?”

“No!” Mariah’s gaze flew up, not to Jake but to Victor’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Micah?” For the first time since he forced them into the van, Victor sounded uncertain.

Jake didn’t answer, keeping his eyes on his wife as he struggled to understand. So whoever Victor was to Mariah, he didn’t know about her son. And clearly, she didn’t want him to.

And neither did Jake. Even if he was Micah’s father, no way in hell would Jake let him anywhere near the little boy he thought of as his own son.

“Do you have a child, Marisol?” Victor asked in a strangled tone that caught Jake by surprise.

“I meant her husband, Micah,” Jake lied quickly as he saw Mariah’s face turn deathly pale. “Are you his father? Mariah told me his parents didn’t approve of their relationship.”

Victor laughed. “No.”

“Victor killed Micah,” Mariah growled, her voice dark with old pain.

Jake had heard that sound, more often than he liked to remember, in the early days of their courtship and marriage, but he’d thought she was past it now, moving forward into their new and promising life together.

Clearly, he’d been wrong. In so many ways.

“It was an accident.” Victor’s flat tone was unconvincing. “I paid for my mistake.”

“You killed him so I couldn’t be with him,” Mariah countered fiercely. “That was your twisted idea of disloyalty to you. Is that why you’re doing this now? Are you going to kill Jake, too?”

“If all I wanted was to kill your latest lover, he’d be dead already,” Victor said calmly.

“Easy to talk big when you’ve got the gun and your opponent’s trussed up like a turkey, little man.” Jake watched Victor for a reaction.

Victor ignored the taunt, but Jake noted that his back stiffened at the hard words. The older man turned his attention back to Mariah, his dark eyes focusing on her in the mirror. “You made things very difficult for me. You ruined everything.”

“You ruined everything,” Mariah spat back at him. “You’re the one who couldn’t let me go.”

“Your name is Marisol?” Jake asked quietly, partly to defuse the escalating tension but mostly to distract himself from the twisting in his gut. He knew that Victor wanted him to feel disgust and betrayal at Mariah’s lies. He could see very well that Mariah wanted—needed—him to trust her.

All Jake knew was that she wasn’t going to die on his watch.

Mariah lifted her face slowly. He could see she was struggling to meet his eyes. “My name is Mariah Cooper. I changed it legally three years ago, and then changed it when we married. Marisol is a different person from a very different time and place.”

“Not so different,” Victor said flatly. “Same old liar.”

Mariah’s lips pressed to a thin line as she shot a glare at Victor. She turned her gaze back to Jake, her expression tense. “I know I have a lot to explain. I’m so sorry. But nothing you’re hearing now changes who I am.”

Jake wanted to agree, to wipe the fear and dread from her expression. But he wasn’t going to lie to her.

At the sight of his indecision, her expression fell. She turned back toward the window, her profile outlined with despair.

Jake looked into the rearview mirror and saw Victor’s black eyes watching him. “Where are you taking us?”

Victor’s only answer was a slow, enigmatic smile.

AT LEAST WE’RE STILL ALIVE .

As mental pep talks went, the silent chant running through Mariah’s head wasn’t exactly a source of inspiration. She and Jake were still alive, yes, but for how much longer?

And what did Victor intend to do to them in the meantime?

She knew firsthand what he was capable of doing. She’d seen the way he’d aimed his old green Caddy at Micah Davis as he walked across the campus service road to reach Mariah on the other side. There’d been no hesitation. No tap of the brake.

He’d known what would happen to Micah’s body when the Cadillac’s nose slammed into him at forty miles an hour. He’d counted on it.

She’d often wondered, later, if he knew she’d be there to witness Micah’s murder. For reasons she hadn’t admitted to herself until it was too late, she’d kept Micah a secret from Victor, as much as she could. Victor had been ambivalent about allowing her to attend college in the first place, as if he were somehow insulted that she needed to learn things that he couldn’t teach her.

His possessiveness—not of her body but her mind—should have been a warning of what would come.

From her position in the belly of the windowless van, all she could see of the world outside was the relentless blur of greens, browns and grays through the front windshield. Victor was driving them into the woods. She didn’t want to think about what would happen when the van finally stopped.

She dared a glance at Jake. His eyes were angled forward, slightly narrowed, his expression intent. He probably thought they still had a chance to get out of this mess alive. She didn’t have that illusion.

All she had were regrets.

The van slowed, the wheels skidding a little as if they’d hit a patch of mud. Mariah held her breath, willing the van to pick up speed again. She didn’t want to believe this was the end of the road.

But the van rumbled to a full stop, and Victor cut the engine. The resulting silence was almost a shock, until the faint sound of rain outside filled the void.

Mariah looked at Jake again, her gaze drawn by a need she couldn’t quantify. Was it love? Fear? Shame?

Jake’s eyes remained on Victor as the older man stepped through the space between the front seats and entered the cargo area. As he crossed to Mariah’s side, Victor kept his eyes on Jake. “Don’t be stupid. Either of you.”

He released Mariah’s cuffs from the hook over her head. She dropped her hands in front of her, flexing her aching shoulders. “Just do whatever you want to do to me and let him go.”

Victor laughed. “You’re the one who brought him into this, Marisol. Without even telling him the truth about what he was signing on to. You’ll just have to live with the consequences of your deceit.” He motioned with the gun. “Unhook him.”

Mariah pushed unsteadily to her feet, wincing as the plastic cuffs dug into her wrists. She crossed to Jake, fighting hot tears as his blue eyes lifted slowly to meet hers.

She couldn’t read his emotions. She probably didn’t want to know what he was thinking right now anyway.

She unhooked his cuffs and took a step back so he could stand. She felt something hard dig into her spine between her shoulder blades.

“My gun is directed at her heart,” Victor said. “One wrong move and I will pull the trigger. Are we clear?”