Domik had let himself be captured to keep her safe, to prevent her from being taken. He had bought her time to escape, had not resisted being tied up.
I have to help him.
But how? CJ squared her shoulders and, doing a quick check to make sure there was still nobody around, strode as rapidly toward the hotel as her bare feet would allow. She crossed the carpark and stepped over the broken door into the room that had felt so different last night.
What had been a haven, a place where she had bared herself to Domik, was now turned upside down. The mattress had been tossed off the bed frame, the meagre contents of the backpack Domik had stuffed full of clothes strewn around the room.
CJ rummaged through the debris, finding a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that fit, and pulling on socks and her boots. She grabbed the backpack and tossed in the largest shirt and pants she could find, remembering how Domik had been still clad only in sweatpants when he had been tossed into the back of the truck.
Don’t think about it. Just get out of here and to the quad bike.
They must not have done a thorough search, because she found the plasma pistol. The reassuring weight of it in her hand bringing a sense of much needed calm. She grabbed Domik’s thigh holster, quickly removing the leg strap to use as a belt, and tucking the pistol safely away.
Right. Time to rescue my man.
The backpack slung over one shoulder, CJ left the motel room and quickly jogged back to the where the bike had been stashed. She pulled the branches they had laid over the top to hide it and threw a leg over the seat. The bike started on the first try, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
It didn’t last long.
Not knowing where they were heading would make finding Domik difficult.
I should have been ready to follow.
She shook herself and gritted her teeth. The past was just that, the past. Right now, nobody knew where Domik was, and she couldn’t contact the Zataras for help. Hell, she didn’t even know if anyone had survived. There was only one way Domik was going to escape, and that was if CJ helped him to do it.
She gripped the handlebars and turned the throttle, easing the bike onto the road after checking to make sure the coast was clear. There was no sign of the pickup truck.
Where would they have taken him?
She froze, remembering the men who had taken him saying something about a farm. That excluded any of the houses in the small town. Feeling a little more hopeful, she opened the throttle and rode in the direction the pickup truck had gone.
I’ll just check every farm I come across.
It didn’t matter how long it took to find him; she would not give up. Not this time.
