Chapter 11

11

Terror had her curling up in the corner of the old cabin that stood at the corner of the Hiller Ranch. She’d been in that cabin before—many times.

She, Giavonna, and Genny had camped out there once when they’d been young teenage girls, so sure they were independent. Until it had stormed, and they’d all gotten too scared and had wanted to go home. Genny had cried, so Giavonna had called their parents to come get them. On a landline.

That landline phone was long gone now. And cell service, even if she had a phone, was nonexistent up here.

Chad and Guthrie had driven up to get them. She knew exactly how far away from home, from safety, she was. She would give anything for her older brother to show up and rescue her again.

The younger brother was pacing in front of her. He was so... erratic. Drugs? She thought it was possible. They had just kept going on and on about Charlie. About what he had done to someone.

Chantal was just collateral.

These people hated her brother Charlie because of his work as a cop with the TSP Major Crimes. Seriously bad things had been happening lately in Finley Creek, and Major Crimes was right in the middle of it. She was just these men’s instrument of revenge.

She was going to have to think. The older brother had recognized her pump and monitor when he’d been searching her for weapons or a cell phone.

Feeling her up was more like it.

He’d gotten off on taking her pump and insulin. He’d liked the control it gave him over her. She was going to be in serious trouble soon. Very, very soon.

Chantal had to get out of there. And to help— fast.

The guy just smirked at her, tilting the can of soda to his lips. “Thirsty, yet?”

“Jackass yet?” Her brother would be looking for her. They’d taken her phone and a photo of her bound and gagged. They were going to get it to Charlie. She knew that. Charlie would look for her.

Maybe he’d recognize the cabin, too. Charlie had been there many times before, too.

Someone would find her.

But she couldn’t just stay there and wait. It would basically just be waiting to die. She had to get closer to help.

That was going to be Chad, Genny, or Guthrie—the ones who had medical training. She had to get to them. She had to.

The jerk stepped closer.

Chantal couldn’t stop herself.

She kicked him. Hard.

He’d put the gun down on the table. She knew how to use a gun. She was a Fields, after all. Charlie and her father had taught her to shoot a pistol before she’d even learned how to drive a car.

He cursed and reached out. Slapped her.

Chantal cried out.

Just as the door slammed open.

They both turned. Chantal screamed—from hope.

“Gene!”

Gene attacked. He and the guy were close to the same size. They were slinging punches and grunts and yells in an instant.

Chantal yanked at the rope on her ankles. Her hands were tied in front of her, but she could still move her fingers. The thug slammed his fist into Gene’s nose. There was blood—lots of it.

Gene cursed, then shoved the guy to the floor. The guy’s head slammed off of the chair. Gene grabbed him by the shirt and punched him two or three more times. Chantal just focused on getting her feet free.

“He’s out,” Gene said, rasping in breath. His nose bled.

But he was there. He was there. Gene was there.

Chantal focused on getting her feet free. She’d break down and cry later. Gene was there.

Finally, her feet were free. “Gene! I?—”

He came at her. Chantal just leapt. Strong arms caught her. He held her close for a fast moment. “Chantal, honey... damn. Let’s get you out of here. What did he take off of you?”

Chantal met his hazel eyes. All of the Hillers had the most beautiful hazel eyes. She would never forget how beautiful his eyes were in that moment. “I’m diabetic, Gene. Mom and Dad and my brothers don’t know. He took my insulin pump, and his brother took my bag with emergency injections on purpose. I need to get to the hospital fast. Or get some insulin. Four hours at the most.”

They were three hours on foot minimum from the main part of the Hiller Ranch. And cell service—there was no cell service on this part of the ranch at all.

She saw knowledge of that in his eyes.

“I’ll get you there, baby. I promise. But we’re going to have to hoof it. We’ll get home, I promise.”

“Tie him up first. I want Charlie to get him.”

“I’m on it.”

Gene hog-tied the jerk fast. “We’ll send your brother’s people back to get him as soon as we can. For now, I’m getting you to Chad and Guthrie as fast as I can, but we’re going to have to hike it, babe.”

Then he had her outside in the fresh air. To her shock, Gene pulled her close and just held her for a long moment. “I was watching the whole time. I heard you scream and saw them take you. I wasn’t going to let them hurt you. I just had to wait for the right moment. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re here now.” Chantal looked up at him. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she just held on, too. “I’m not sure how, but you are.”

She never imagined Gene would ever be her savior.

Then they were walking.

The cabin was at the back edge of the ranch—a good two-plus-hour walk to the nearest road. Then there would be another hour on the road. The Hiller Ranch was spread out over several different tracts. Some were on the edge of Barratt County. They connected with narrow strips and access roads. It either meant a hike straight through the ranch, with no water or supplies, or they took the back road. The W-Deane Ranch butted against them, too. Help was out there.

They just had to get to it.

They just kept walking.