Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

Hilly dragged her feet as much as possible. She knew the SWAT team was on its way, and they'd eventually find her. But would they make it to Cisco in time to get him out of the burning building? She glanced back, seeing the fire-brightened sky, clouded with plumes of smoke.

A painful sob escaped from between her lips as Cottins kept up a relentless pace.

Hilly was hurting all over because of the repeated times Cottins had slammed into her, but her greater agony was not knowing Cisco's fate. Had she loosened his bonds enough for him to wiggle out of the rest on his own? Had he been able to get out of the shack before it was engulfed?

Not knowing Cisco's fate, Hilly's anger over Cottins' cruelness had her fighting even harder in his grasp. She wasn't going to make it easy for the other man. Even though he had a hundred pounds and seven inches on her, whatever he had planned, she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She turned and bit his shoulder.

"Fucking bitch," he snarled, and punched her again, this time in the ribcage with the flashlight he held. She doubled over and would have fallen, but the evil man maintained his bruising grip, intent on dragging her relentlessly to some unknown destination.

Hilly fought against the black dots that floated before her eyes, and won the battle to stay conscious. "You are a dead man, Cottins," Hilly heaved, trying to catch her breath after the near-debilitating blow. Somehow, she also managed to keep her feet underneath her as they sped along an old, rough path Cottins had found. "Mason and his SWAT team are going to get you. You're an idiot, and you're done."

Cottins shook her again as he continued to drag her bodily along. "Shut up, cunt. They're not going to find me," he snarled. "They're going to find that asshole cop's charred body, then they'll find you, mangled at the bottom of a ravine. And when they do, I'll be long gone."

"Mangled… What are you talking about?" Hilly's gut clenched.

He laughed, nastily. "You didn't think we were just out for an evening stroll, did you?" he gloated. "I'm not letting you live after what you've seen and all the problems you've caused me. You've been the bane of my existence."

"Me? Problems? What the fuck are you talking about?" Hilly snarled back, incredulous. Not only was the man off the rails, thinking he was going to kill her, he somehow imagined she was responsible for all his bad decisions?

"You heard me." His mood turned combative again, and he shook her angrily, this time exerting agonizing pressure on her shoulder joint. "If it weren't for you and your grandmother, I wouldn't be in debt right now. A few years ago, I put up almost everything I owned as collateral to buy the acreage north of here that's adjacent to yours, knowing that once I got my hands on the camp's lakefront property, I'd own a developer's goldmine. But your grandmother refused to sell. When she proved to be stubborn no matter what I offered, I had your father put pressure on her in various ways…"

Hilly growled, recalling a number of vandalism issues her Gran had faced in the final two seasons she'd been alive. Now she knew why. She couldn't believe it. Gran's own son—Hilly's trash of a father—had been responsible for those defacements.

The realization was abhorrent to Hilly, but not entirely unexpected. For her sperm donor, it was always about him.

Cottins continued. "Then the bitch died and she left the camp to you; her granddaughter. What kind of whore does that? Disinherits her only son?"

"The kind who understands he's a piece of shit who would have drunk and gambled her money away," Hilly answered through gritted teeth.

Cottins turned and whacked her with his would-be weapon again, this time in the side of the neck. Hilly lost her breath, gasping to get air.

"And you, bitch. When Marty didn't inherit, I made all kinds of effort to be nice to you, the presumptive heir, giving you numerous, viable and generous offers."

"Generous?" Hilly barely got out. "Viable offers?" She coughed while gritting her teeth against the pain which now made it feel like her throat and neck were on fire. Her voice emerged as no more than a pained whisper. "What you proposed was a tiny fraction of what the camp is worth."

"It doesn't matter, now." Once again, Cottins went from sullen to jovial in a blink as he kept them moving. The man was clearly psychotic. "Because soon you'll be dead, and I'll own everything. I'll have a lovely forged document waiting in the wings, stating that if anything happens to you, you're leaving this entire parcel to your loving father. Once that will passes probate, where I'll grease a few palms if necessary, I'll be headed for a sweet pile of profit."

Hilly spit blood from her cut mouth, some of it landing on Cottins' shoes. "Loving father?" she rasped. "It's been a long time since I claimed him as a relative, and nothing's going to change that, now. No document you forge will stand up in court. My parents, my mother and my true father, will fight you every step of the way. And they'll win. You'll end up with nothing. Add to that, the moment Mason gets his hands on you, and the only place you'll be heading is to jail."

Cottins' cuffed her in the face again, but Hilly barely felt it this time. Was she that numb from all the previous damage he'd inflicted, or had Cottins suddenly lost some of his bluster?

"We'll see…" he gnarled. "Or at least I'll see," he corrected himself, "because you'll be dead."

Hilly really didn't want to die. She wanted justice for Cisco. With that irate thought in her head, she redoubled her efforts to slow Cottins down, tripping and dragging on his arm. Her shoulder had long since lost feeling.

At least she now knew exactly where they were headed. Cottins' had obviously planned well. There was a deep, rocky ravine about a mile north of the shack, which is where he obviously intended to end her.

From the amount of time they'd been crashing through the woods, Hilly knew they were almost there.

Not happening .

In a last-ditch, desperate attempt to save herself, Hilly gathered what little strength she had left, sent one leg out directly in front of Cottins, and tripped him.

Yes.

Down they went, together, sprawling on the hard ground, where her battered body fell on top of the hefty contractor.

"Cunt!" he bellowed, knocking her aside in order to get up.

That's all the advantage Hilly needed.

She scrambled up, staggered a few feet away, then crouched in a low, ready position she'd learned from Cisco. At the same time, she sent her one functioning hand scrabbling behind her, searching for a weapon, any weapon; a stick, a rock…

Her fingers closed around a pile of loose dirt and leaves. It would have to do.

Cottins took a step toward her.

Hilly flung the detritus into his face.

He yelped and staggered back.

Hilly ran.

With one eye swollen nearly shut, and no flashlight to guide her, she didn't know which direction to take. Her only goal was to get away from Cottins until the woods filled with Cisco's SWAT team, making escape for Cottins an impossibility.

Hilly limped/ran as quickly as she could, knowing she was breathing far too noisily. Her ribcage was on fire, and her clumsy feet were making a ridiculous amount of noise in the underbrush, but she couldn't help that. Nor could she stop or slow down.

She had this. She ran every day, dammit, and even in her depleted state she had to be able to outrun one out-of-shape developer. She simply had to keep moving.

"You can't hide, bitch," Cottins yelled from behind her, but it didn't sound like he was too close, thank God. If she could find a place to hide…

No. Not hide.

She needed to head back the way they'd come; toward the light from the fire Cottins had set. To find Cisco. Nausea welled up in her throat…

Cisco.

Was he alive? Had he made it out? Had his team arrived to save him?

She had to remain positive. Any other scenario was unacceptable.

Hilly was determined to make her way back to the shack, via a long, looping arc that Cottins would be hard-pressed to follow, but when the trees ahead of her thinned out, then broke into an open vista, she knew exactly where she was, and groaned. This was the ravine where Cottins planned to kill her. Hilly skidded to a stop before she got too close, but she tripped over her own feet and fell face first to the ground.

Luckily, she was still a few feet from the gorge.

She wrestled to get up, and…couldn't move.

Seriously? Her beat-to-shit body refused to respond, now?

Footsteps sounded through the woods, getting closer and closer.

Hilly lay on the ground panting, and knew there was only one thing left she could do. She'd explored this ravine when she was a kid, and knew that on this side there was a shelf of rock that ran analogous to the top, a mere twelve feet below. If she could crawl the remaining short distance to the brink, then do a controlled tumble over the side, it would hurt. But hopefully she'd send herself down to the ledge without hurtling the rest of the way to the bottom.

There was a good chance she'd make it. Sort of. If she didn't…

Hilly grimaced. She had no choice. When Cottin found her—and it sounded as if that would happen soon—he'd make sure she didn't survive any fall he orchestrated.

Hilly dragged her battered body to the edge and peered over. In the dark, she could just make out the prominence of the rock shelf below. It seemed farther away than she remembered, but…

Taking as deep a breath as her battered ribs allowed, Hilly positioned her body alongside the edge and rolled…

Argh!

She hit with an inelegant thud, barely managing to bite her tongue to keep from crying out at the sharp pain she inflicted on her injuries. But the good news, she told herself? She'd at least managed to stick her landing. Grabbing with her good hand at a small tree growing out of the granite, she dragged her body closer to the rock wall, preventing herself from plunging over the side.

Hilly shakily acknowledged that this was good. She was still alive. She managed to draw in a few, shallow breaths.

But there was no time to rest. She needed to make herself invisible.

Cottins had his flashlight. If he shined it down and spotted her, she was doomed.

There weren't a lot of options for concealment.

Hilly's best bet would be to snug her back up against the dirt and rock wall behind her, making herself as small as possible in the meager bit of bushy scrub that grew there.

But before that…

What if she could make Cottins think she'd fallen into the ravine?

There was a largish rock jutting out to her right, hanging over the abyss, no more than five feet from her current position. If she could make her way there, somehow loosening the large rock enough to fall, the noise might fool Cottins into believing she'd gone over.

It was worth a try.

Gritting her teeth, Hilly scraped her way toward the rock. It seemed to take far too long, her body bemoaning every inch, but finally, sweating profusely, she got her functioning palm on the rock and pushed.

Nothing.

Dammit. Hilly wanted to cry. If she had both hands…

Cottins clumsy tromping from above moved closer and closer. She was running out of time. Hilly grimaced to sit, but when she was finally upright, she spun around on her ass, putting both feet against the rock.

Hilly heaved.

The rock budged.

She bit back a whimper and shoved again. This time, she knew it was close to tumbling.

Hilly braced one arm behind her, and with all the remaining strength in her body, she thrust one last time.

The stone teetered for a split second…

…then fell with a series of clamorous bounces, ending with a loud, satisfying crash far below.

Knowing she had no time to waste to appreciate her effort, Hilly bit the inside of her cheek and shuffled her way back to the rock wall, managing at the final moment to tuck herself under some overhanging greenery where she folded in half and made herself as small as possible.

"What the…?"

She heard Cottins' growl from above, and a beam of light cut through the dark, raking down over the ledge where she was wedged.

Hilly closed her eyes and held her breath. Not that it would do any good. Cottins would either spot her or he wouldn't…

The light tracked from side to side, and eventually a jubilant laugh sounded from somewhere above her.

"Well, looky there." Cottins' triumphant sneer reached Hilly's ears. "The cunt managed it all by herself." He laughed almost hysterically. "Fell over the edge without my help. All the better, bitch," he yelled down toward her supposed dead body. "Now, nobody can blame it on me. It'll look like you were despondent after setting your boyfriend on fire, and in your grief, took your own life."

Hilly wanted to groan at the reminder that she didn't know what had happened to Cisco, but she didn't dare twitch.

Cottins had taken her bait, but he had yet to move on. As far as she could tell, he still stood above her, gloating. She wished he'd disappear so she could figure out how to get herself off the ledge. Going up was going to be a lot more difficult than coming down, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. She'd gotten herself this far; she'd managed the rest. Cisco would be so proud…

Hilly suppressed another sob.

When she got out of this, she'd make sure Cottins paid.

All of a sudden, from up above, she heard a loud, "oof".

What the hell ?

Fists hitting flesh reverberated through the darkness.

"Where is she, you bastard?"

Cisco?

Oh, my God. Cisco! He wasn't dead!

Joy flared inside of Hilly, growing so intense it threatened to consume her. The feelings that had been attempting to take over her heart since the moment she'd reconnected with Cisco—something she'd desperately been trying to ignore—were suddenly let loose, and securing them deep inside again was no longer on her agenda. Her feelings for Cisco were far more powerful and all-consuming than she'd previously allowed herself to admit, and now that both she and Cisco had faced death and survived, Hilly was ready to let her emotions loose; to shout them to the world.

She loved Cisco.

She. Loved. Cisco.

Admitting it didn't scare her any more, and she had to tell him, right the hell, now. If she could make herself heard.

"Cisco," Hilly rasped, but frustratingly, she couldn't manage to get any volume behind her cry.

It didn't help that Cottins was still spewing vitriol.

"She's dead," the developer chortled from above, "and she did it herself. She threw herself over the edge because she thought you burned."

"I'll kill you, you bastard." Cisco's cold voice wasn't one she'd heard before. It was filled with grief, anger, and the dark promise of pain.

The sound of Cisco's renewed punches carried down to her, and she worried for him. If he killed Cottins, he'd go to jail. The developer wasn't worth it. She had to stop him.

And seriously, Hilly didn't actually want Cottins dead. That would be too easy an out for the vile man. She wanted the asshole to stand trial; get locked up for a very long time over everything he'd done.

Hilly drew in a pained breath and tried again. "Cisco!"

Her voice emerged a little louder, but the beating Cisco was administering above, clearly had him oblivious to everything else.

She was about to try again, when?—

"Cisco. Stop." Mason's strong order rang out in the dark. "That's enough." There was an immediate cessation of blows. "You've done enough. He's not going anywhere."

"But…Hilly," Cisco's distraught lament, howled from the depths of his soul, filled Hilly's eyes with tears.

Mason growled. "Mike. JD. Deal with Cottins." His tone gentled. "Cisco, we'll find her. I promise."

"She…fell, or he pushed her," Cisco moaned. "She… He said she's…"

No.

Hilly would not let the man she loved suffer another second.

With everything left in her, she raised her voice and cried to the heavens.

"Cisco!"