“Feet.” I point at hers. “Rocks. Snakes.” I hiss, making my point and shaking my head. “No.” I bend down for her. “Back.”
One day, I’ll tell her how her beastly twin is scared of snakes. How he squeals at the sight of them, and we’ll sit with their mom and have a good laugh.
But for now. “Please,” I beg her. And unlike her stubborn brothers, she listens.
It’s a rugged half-mile hike from the Devil’s Courthouse to the famous parkway. Easily, I find the trail. I know it, but once we’re by the roadside, I fear we’ll be too easily spotted if Sheremetev or one of his soldiers is combing the road, looking for us.
It’s a matter of time.
So, I hike outside the guardrail to the high roadway, ready to hide us in the sloping woods when a car approaches. It’s treacherous, but our only choice.
I walk for miles, and exhaustion starts to hit me. My lipsare parched. Muscles aching. Feet throbbing. I’m only wearing a bra, pants, and boots, shivering in the cold. Just like Sasha. We’re pressed together, and fighting to stay warm.
In the distance, I see the headlights first. Then hear the car’s engine winding up the roadway. Darting into the canopy, I almost lose my footing, sliding down the steep, wooded ridge, plunging to our death.
Sasha screams, but I growl, “Not tonight, Satan,” grabbing a tree root as a lone, black SUV slowly crawls by.
Was that Sheremetev? Are we sitting ducks out here? What’s worse? The Bratva, or the bears hunting for us?
It’s moments like this that I want to give up.
“Fall seven times, Alena, and stand up eight.”
Mom’s words steel me.
Scrambling back to the edge of the road, I rise, jostling Sasha on my back.
Get to Loch. Get to Loch.
It’s my mandate for another mile before I hear more engines approaching. Tensing, I turn to hide us in the woods again, but then…
I’d know the throaty roar of that Ram truck’s V8 engine anywhere. It rumbles, nearing with the pipes of a Harley, winding around the bend.
Loch.
I’m crying relieved tears from my coronary, conniption, and a cunt attack all at the same time as I carry Sasha and trudge into the middle of the road.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
LOCH
Like a sudden apparition,Alena appears in my truck’s headlights. I have to slam on the brakes.
“Holy fuck!” Grant bellows what every cell in my body is screaming at the sight before us. “Like a goddamn lioness!”
Alena’s carrying Sasha on her back.
Sweating, Alena’s shivering in her nude bra, hiking boots, and khaki pants. Her flesh, bloody and ripped with scratches and scrapes. Her tawny braid is disheveled, circles rimming her determined eyes. Her lips are parted in a half-victorious roar, half-exhausted pant.
But she doesn’t crumble.
Carefully, she sets Sasha down on the road. Wearing Alena’s ranger shirt, Sasha’s totally bare otherwise, and also shivering.
Throwing my truck in park, I jump out and can’t get to them fast enough.
Goddamn, they’re a badass sight for my eyes that want to murder their captor.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart thundering ashard as Remi’s hog, its engine sputtering to a stop. He joins me and Grant, rushing to them.
