Hot Shot Hero Hostage - Chapter 12
The sudden beam of light startled Sam even though she’d been expecting it. She’d even suspected that Braden would make sure none of it shone on her and revealed her location. Just his.
She uttered a small groan. As perfect as her husband was, he still infuriated her—just as he had when they’d met and he’d tried so hard to protect her. She’d thought then that his behavior was chauvinistic, that he didn’t respect her strength and capabilities. Only a few other men in her life had respected her. And she’d had to work so hard to earn the respect they’d begrudgingly given her.
She knew now that Braden respected her. Being protective was just such a big part of his personality that he couldn’t control it. He would always step into the line of fire, always be willing to take the bullet meant for someone else, not just her.
So she turned her frustration to where it really belonged, to whoever had lured them out here with those notes about each other. Were they still out there somewhere, waiting to shoot again?
As Braden moved the beam of light around the forest, something caused branches to rustle and snap. Coming toward them? Or away?
Braden swung the light toward it, and eyes reflected that light, a head low to the ground. It wasn’t a person but an animal.
“Let’s get back to where we parked the vehicles,” Braden said, and he swung the light in another direction, onto the trail they’d somehow slipped away from during the chaos of colliding in the dark and getting shot at.
It was the smart thing to do; she knew that. She let him guide her back to the trail, with one of his hands on her arm and the other on the flashlight. “I didn’t see any other vehicle where I parked,” she admitted. She’d wondered why she hadn’t, had wondered if anyone was even out here.
Braden was. And the shooter…
Where the hell had the shooter gone? They must have left, or they would have fired at them once the flashlight had revealed where they were. “My truck is this way,” Braden said with less than his usual confidence. “I think…”
Sam would have been glad that she wasn’t the only one who’d gotten lost in the dark if not for their need to get back to safety. Finally they broke free of the thickness of the trees, and the pressure on Sam’s lungs, the fear that the shooter was hiding among the branches, eased a bit.
Until Braden let out a low curse.
“What?” she asked.
He shone the beam of his flashlight onto the truck he must have borrowed from the Oregon branch of the US Forest Service. The tires were flat; someone had slashed them.
“My rental car must be here,” she said, but she wasn’t certain she’d come from this direction. And when she moved around the truck, she didn’t find another vehicle. Either she’d parked somewhere else, or her rental had been stolen.
“What the hell are we going to do?” she murmured.
“Drive out on four flats,” Braden said, but when he unlocked and opened the door, the engine didn’t start. And he cursed again. “It’s dead…”
Just like their phones.
Just like someone intended them to be?