“Yes,” she replied before she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him again.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he said as he released her from his hold.
She accepted the hand he extended to her.
The front doorknob jiggled. Cap spun to face the door, and his hand flew to his side as if he were going to grab his weapon that wasn’t there.
She stared at the door. It was quiet, but she knew she hadn’t imagined the sound because it caught Cap’s attention, too.
Her heart thudded. If it were the deputy at the door, he’d knock, not jiggle the handle, and knowing the danger they were in, he’d announce himself, right?
The doorknob jiggled again.
Cap shoved her behind him, instinct sharp and immediate. He took two steps back, then walked her backwards toward the hallway.
She shook like a leaf, but his hand was steady as he opened the hall closet door without even looking. First, he reached up and pulled a pistol hidden behind some cleaning supplies on the top shelf, then he reached down, shoved aside the cinder blocks as if they were as light as feathers, and pulled up the hatch to the crawlspace.
“I don’t know how many there are. Get out of here. Hide in the woods, don’t go to the road, that’ll be too easy for him to find you. And don’t look back.”
Emma screamed as the front door broke into pieces and flew open. A tall man dressed in dark clothing burst through it. Though he resembled the man who believed she’d stolen the drugs, it wasn’t him. His steely gaze bore into her. Fear ripped through her. How many men were there trying to hunt her down?
Bang!!!
Emma’s ears rang. Where had the Colombian’s bullet struck?
Cap shoved her into the closet. Her feet caught the first couple of rungs of the ladder, but then she missed one and fell, landing hard on her feet. Pain shot through her already injured ankle.
The basement hatch door slammed down.
Bang!!!
Emma’s heart leaped into her throat. Who fired that round?
The floor creaked above her. Thuds sounded as if someone had been thrown against the wall.
“Come on, Emma, get up,” she whispered to herself in the pitch black of the small basement.
She crawled to where she recalled the cellar doors were, reaching out with her hands until her fingers discovered the steps. Then, she stood with her arms lifted into the air and climbed the steps, wincing each time her sore foot planted on the next one. She pushed the heavy doors open, and when she neared the top, she hunkered down and glanced around the backyard. The moon lit the yard enough for her to see that nobody lurked. She shot out of the basement and ran toward the woods, taking refuge behind the first large tree she came across, which was part of the tree line. Her heart raced, and her nerves rattled. Peeking back into the yard from behind the mighty tree, she didn’t see any movement. Her gaze flew to the squad car. Where was the deputy? Was he in the cabin, or had the Colombian hurt or killed the deputy?
Cap’s voice rang through her head as she recalled him telling her to hide. She should help him is what she should do. Or, would she only get in his way? She turned to head deeper into the woods. Inside the tree line, the moon did nothing to illuminate the area. The terrain stabbed at her slipper-covered feet, causing her eyes to water. The cracking branches beneath her thundered through the night. She looked back at the cabin, and her foot caught under a branch. She tumbled forward, landing hard on her forearms.
“Pull it together, Emma. Cap told you not to look back,” she whispered to herself.
She pushed herself up, kept her gaze forward, and took more care in her foot placement. Careful step after step until she found a clump of trees she thought would provide suitable cover. She stopped and sat pressing her back against the rough bark, relieving her ankle of the stabbing pain.
Bang!!!
Bang!!!
Emma flinched, and her breath caught painfully in her lungs. She wedged herself deeper into the space between the clump of trees.
“Cap? Oh, no!”
Nerves rattled her body. Tears ran down her hot cheeks. She prayed Cap was okay.
The terrible silence that followed froze her in place. Not even the wind moved. She strained herself to hear anything—footsteps, voices—nothing.
Chapter Eighteen
