Page 48 of Mountain Shadow

“Get the hell up,” Two ordered his colleague, who was still sprawled on the ground. “Cuff his hands together.”

Although it went against every instinct he had, Jens allowed One to pull his hands behind his back. He kept his expression neutral even as One tightened the cuffs hard enough to cut off his circulation.

“Let him go!” Sarah shouted, fighting against Two’s hold. Jens prayed the knife was nowhere near her back. “I’ll come with you, but leave him alone.”

Two’s eyes narrowed. It was clear he had no idea what Sarah was talking about. He pushed her away from him—Sarah stumbled into Jens, who squared his feet on the ground to absorb her momentum.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she begged.

Jens’s heart clenched.

She’s trying to protect me.

She hasn’t realized these men have nothing to do with her stalker—that I’m the one who’s put her in danger.

Jens sought to make eye contact with Sarah.

“This isn’t about you, Sarah,” he said quietly.

Sarah’s lips formed a perfect “O”.

“You’re not my stalker,” Sarah said, standing up to her full height and addressing Two. Even standing before the men barefoot and half-naked, she looked magnificent.

“What is she talking about?” Two asked.

“We should kill them both,” One croaked.

“Worked out great for you last time,” Jens goaded, eager to keep the men’s attention on him. There was no question in his mind that he would do anything to keep her safe—that he would defend her to the death.

One reached out and punched Jens straight in the mouth. It was a weak blow, but the man’s ring split his lip open. As his mouth filled with blood, Jens tried not to smile.

“We don’t have time for this,” Two said. He trained a gun on Jens. “You. Sit down.”

* * *

Sarah

Sarah’s head spun.

She’s only just understood that these men had nothing to do with her stalker. They were here for Jens.

Which is why he’s working so hard to keep their attention off me.

She cried out as the shorter, stockier man punched Jens in the mouth.

Standing beside him, Sarah shrank back at the unexpected violence. As a journalist, she’d often found herself close to violence. But she’d always been the one behind the microphone—talking about the violence, dissecting it, attempting to get at the truth—always protected by her studio walls. So her experience with violence was one untouched by blood.

Like the blood running from Jens’s lips down his chin. His expression was stoic as he brought his chin down to his shoulder, wiping it off on his black T-shirt.

A part of her wanted to cower, to sit down on the ground and pull her arms over her head until this was over. But Jens was so calm, and she wanted to be strong with him.

“What do you want?” Jens drawled.

“You know what I want. You’re going to show me where you found my cousin,” the other man said.

“The man who died in the hospital was your cousin,” Jens said, nodding as if everything made sense.

Sarah wanted to shout.