Page 100 of Trap ’N’ Trace

She uttered a choking cry. The knife he murdered Becca with?

“Where is the memory card?” His voice was low and raspy. “Where is it?”

She gasped for air but that only dug the edge of the blade deeper into her skin. She couldn’t see it but felt it—blood trickling from the open wound. “The F—”

No. If she told him the FBI and the police had the memory card, he’d kill her. She had to give him a reason to keep her alive. “It’s in my bank box.”

“Goddammit!” he roared then rammed his knee more forcefully into her back.

A jagged rock bit into her ribs, sending a stab of agony through her torso. “I can get it for you,” she grit out. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

“Lying bitch,” he growled at her ear. “I don’t believe you. I already know it’s not at the dog shelter. Is it in the house?”

“N-no.” Once he realized she couldn’t produce the memory card, he’d figure out the police had it. Then he’d have no reason to keep her alive. I saw his face, and he knows it. Either way, he was going to kill her.

All she had to do was stay alive long enough to get free. Long enough for the police to arrive. It sounded so simple. It wasn’t. He had a knife and was much stronger than she was.

She had to stall for time. Better yet, get the hell out of there.

Angus’s shrill barks rent the air. The puppy darted in, trying to bite the killer’s arm. The blade at her throat disappeared as he took a swipe at Angus.

“Fucking dog.”

“Nooooo.” She flung her fist into his forearm, making enough contact to offset his aim. Angus darted away, his barks becoming more insistent. Rage bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. If he hurts that puppy, I’ll— What? What could she do?

A siren wailed in the distance. She still couldn’t see the killer’s face but sensed his body going taut.

“Get up.” He grabbed her upper arm and jerked her to her feet. She gasped as tendons and ligaments screamed in protest. “Move!” A hand at her back shoved her so hard she nearly stumbled.

She started to turn but he shoved her again, forcing her across the grass. Angus had stopped barking, and she flicked her gaze back and forth, searching for him. Finally she glimpsed his golden coat as he bounded beside them. Relief poured over her.

“Where are we going?” Wherever it was, it couldn’t be good.

He grabbed her again by the hair, jerking her against his chest. His breath was hot in her ear. “Inside, to get the card. Then, somewhere I can set your soul free.” The growled words reeked with menace and fury.

Set my soul free?

Coming from a homicidal madman wielding a sharp knife, that couldn’t be good.

Sirens grew louder as he forced her toward the castle steps. When she didn’t come up with the memory card, he’d gut her on the spot. She’d never have the chance to convince Dayne he was wrong. They could make it work. For that to happen, she had to live.

Over the blood pounding in her ears, his mumbled words slithered over her like a venomous snake. “He will set me free. He will show me the path to righteousness, guiding my sword to set all sinners free of shame.” With that last word, he twisted her hair tighter.

She bit back a cry. Sonofabitch! He was out of his mind. And angry.

I’m angry, too. Pissed as hell, actually.

This evil man, this—fucking asshole—had no right to take her life. She’d never get married or have children. Never love or be loved. Only vaguely did it register that she was really getting the hang of this cursing thing.

Fuck. That.

She took a deep breath and spun. Sections of hair parted from her scalp. She screamed then reared back her fist and slammed it into his face.

It was a glancing blow. Momentum sent her flying against his chest, but he’d released her hair.

He coughed, then coughed again, dragging in a wheezing breath.

Right then she didn’t care if she broke his windpipe because she was free.