She thrashed down a trail, her hands bound in front of her. Had she hurt herself when she’d jumped from the van? He should’ve secured her better.
He didn’t have time to chase her right now. Exasperation upped his blood pressure. The trees hid the very meager light from the cloud-covered moon, and darkness swallowed them from every direction. She ducked right and then left, going out of sight.
He increased his speed, his boots crashing into downed branches. Damn, it was dark.
Then, silence.
He paused. Ducking his chin to his chest, he listened. Only the sound of rain on trees caught his ear. The smell of dirt and wet pine filled his nose. He chose his path carefully, trying to follow the trail, hunting.
She’d turned left last, so he followed the barely there path.
Tension stopped him, the fear of prey holding its breath. He looked around, trying to see through the darkness. If he was running, hands bound, where would he hide?
A large downed tree partially blocked the path. He went left and followed it several feet. His heart kicked against his rib cage. He caught sight of the zipper on her jacket a second before she tried to bolt.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Pippa swung her arms and nailed Malcolm in the balls. He doubled over with a pained groan.
She leaped over the tree trunk and ran again, hoping her feet found steady ground. The rain cut against her, and the wind whipped into her, but she wouldn’t give up. If she could just get free, she could find her way back to save Trixie.
She rounded a tree and smashed into Mal’s hard body. Where had he come from?
This time, he was ready for her. He caught her easily and swung her up, placing her gently over his shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself when you jumped?” he asked.
She didn’t answer and instead started fighting him, kicking and punching. Memories of the last time they’d been in this position ran through her mind, and her entire body heated from head to toe. The memory of what they’d done in her kitchen would stay with her forever
She kicked and struck him, and this time he just manacled her legs against his chest before she could really hurt him.
Definitely no fun this time.
“I’m not gonna ask you again,” he snapped, striding effortlessly around a tree. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Pippa struggled uselessly and punched at his kidneys. Then she paused at the memory, going stiff. But the smack to her ass didn’t come.
“I’m not going to hit you, Pippa.” He ducked under prickly branches. “The night in your kitchen was consensual. This ain’t. I know the difference.”
“Then put me down,” she gasped, her wet hair falling to his thighs.
For answer, he flipped her around until he could cradle her against his rock-hard chest. “Is this better?”
“No.” She tried to punch up to his chin, and he tightened his hold, immobilizing her. “Let me go.”
“Can’t.” They reached the open door of the van, and he set her on the seat. Again. He leaned in, his gaze deadly serious. “Stop for a minute and think. You told me Isaac liked for you to watch him hurt people, right?”
She drew air into her nose. If she punched him in the throat, could she get free? “Yes.”
“You’ve supposedly escaped him for nearly seven years, and he has your co-conspirator in his control. What exactly do you think he’ll do to her the second you show up?” Mal’s face showed no give. Not an ounce.
Pippa swallowed. That made a horrible sick sense. “What’s my alternative?”
“Me,” he burst out as he threw his hands wide. Exasperation lifted both of his eyebrows. “I’myour alternative. I can go freely into the mansion without immediate risk to either you or Trixie.”
She coughed out a shocked chuckle. His exasperation shouldn’t be funny. “But—but you lied to me.” Could she trust him? Did she have a choice?
His eyes, so close to hers, softened. “You lied to me, too.”
“Well yeah.” Her shoulders slumped. Where did that leave them? “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
