A gun fired. The sting of something sharp hit her arm.
She looked down. Blood. Oh, God. So much blood.
“Drop the gun or you’re dead!”
Gabe.
A click.
Silence.
“Drop the gun, Chapman.”
“You think I scare that easy? I’m not afraid of dying. There are worst places to be and, believe me, I’ve been to all of them.”
Natalie didn’t care where he’d been or what he’d done. Her arm was on fire. She needed to stop the bleeding and get out of the tree. She tore at the hem of her dress, used her teeth to hold one end of the cotton while she wound the other around her arm. By the time this was over she’d look like G.I. Jane—bruised, bloody, and beaten.
The platform tilted sideways. Closing her eyes, she waited for the world to stop spinning.
“Your girlfriend is an easy target. I could shoot her in the head and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
Didn’t he ever give up?Throwing herself sideways, Natalie protected her head with her arms. Pain ripped through her body.
A single gunshot echoed across the forest.
She closed her eyes as darkness became her friend.
* * *
For a split second,Gabe stared in disbelief at the crumpled body of Jaydon Chapman. Blood pooled like a thick, red syrup beneath his back, slowly oozing across the forest floor. Using his foot, he swept Chapman’s gun away and felt for a pulse. Nothing.
Russell Jameson stepped out of the trees, returning his gun to its holster. “Are you all right?”
Gabe didn’t have time to think about what had happened. He ignored Russell’s question. There would be plenty of time to go over everything.
“Natalie?” he yelled. “Are you okay?”
No answer.
He rushed toward the twisted treehouse. “Natalie?” Gabe’s voice filled the forest with a desperation bordering on panic. In the background, he heard Russell call for the paramedics and a ladder, but she needed help now, not in ten or fifteen minutes.
More police arrived.
He circled the trees, looking for the best handholds he could find. None of them were perfect, but one of them would do.
Russell stood beside him. “I’ll cup my hands and hoist you up. You should be able to reach the first branch.”
He didn’t hesitate. When Russell was ready, Gabe leaped into his linked hands and grabbed for the branch above his head. As soon as his hands connected with the rough wood, he pulled himself higher. Once he was over the third branch, the climbing became easier.
“Watch the next branch,” Russell yelled from the ground. “It doesn’t look as sturdy as the others.”
Gabe pulled hard on the branch. It swayed under his weight.
He studied the tree. The point where all four trees converged was at least twelve feet away. He wouldn’t get there using this side of the tree. Holding the trunk for support, he turned his back on the branch and lunged for another one. Time passed in a blur. He moved on autopilot, reaching the bough of the tree out of breath and worried about Natalie.
When he saw her, his legs gave way. Her face was a bruised and bloody mess, and the makeshift bandages on her arm and leg were soaked with blood. Her eyes were closed, and it didn’t look as though she was breathing.
With tears in his eyes, he carefully rolled her onto her back and checked for a pulse. “She’s unconscious but alive,” he choked out.
