Maya Banks - Colters' Woman

Ethan swore a blue streak when the lights failed to come on then shouted Ryan’s name again.

Adam stopped cold when he heard a low moan. He leaped over the couch toward the hallway leading to the guestrooms.

“Get me a light!” he barked back at Ethan.

“Ryan! Ryan!” Adam threw himself to the floor beside his brother’s crumpled form.

Ethan appeared with a flashlight and shined it over Ryan’s body. His chest was bathed in blood, but his eyelids fluttered as the light hit his face.

“Ryan, it’s me, Adam. Can you hear me?”

“How could I not when you’re yelling in my damn ear?” Ryan grumbled.

Adam wilted in relief, his body going slack. “You ornery bastard, you scared ten years off me.”

“Holly,” Ryan began, his voice cracking. “He got Holly.”

“Where are you hit?” Adam demanded, not focusing on Holly for just a moment. He had to take care of them one at a time, and at this minute, he had to make sure Ryan was okay.

“Shoulder,” Ryan said, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Can you get up?”

Ryan moved then moaned in pain.

“Adam!” Lacey called from the door. “You in here?”

“Over here,” Ethan called, shining a light toward her. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“I dumped the kid in town and got up here as fast as I could. Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?” she demanded as she knelt beside Ryan.

“Help me up, damn it,” Ryan said desperately. “He’s got Holly.”

“Who has her, Ryan?” Adam demanded.

He and Ethan lifted Ryan, and Adam wrapped an arm around him so he wouldn’t fall. They guided Ryan to the couch and set him down.

“We’ve got to get you to the hospital,” Ethan said.

“No.”

“Ryan, you’re in no shape to be anywhere but in the hospital.”

“It’s a flesh wound,” he ground out. “I’m not going anywhere with Holly out there with that bastard.” He broke off. “He hurt her. I heard him hit her.”

Adam clenched his fingers into tight fists. He’d also heard the asshole strike Holly.

“What else did you hear, Ryan? Did he say anything? We have to find her.”

“He made a phone call. He said something about a remote cabin and tying up loose ends.”

“Christ.” Remote cabin. Like there weren’t enough of those spread out across the Rockies.

“He acted like it was close,” Ryan said as he put a hand over his shoulder. Bright red blood smeared across his fingers.

“You’ve got to get to the hospital. Lacey, can you make sure he gets there?” Adam asked.

“I’m not going,” Ryan bit out.

“You’ll only slow us down,” Adam said. “We can’t afford to waste a minute. He’ll kill her.”

Ryan looked bleakly at Adam. “I failed her.”

“She thinks you’re dead,” Adam said. “The best thing you can do is get your ass to the hospital so what she thinks doesn’t come to pass.”

Ryan surged to his feet. “How do you know what she thinks?”

Adam quickly explained the phone call then he made arrangements for Lacey to get Ryan to the hospital. His mind worked furiously, trying to come up with a plan of action.

“Let’s go, Ethan.”

He stopped long enough to collect more ammunition for their rifles then he raced out of the house to the Land Rover. Ethan jumped in beside him.

“Close, remote cabin. You think he could be taking her to Blythe Meadow?” Ethan asked as Adam roared down the drive.

“Good call,” Adam said. “It certainly fits. If not there, maybe the old miner’s cabin. We’ll hit both.”

Ethan stared out the window in silence. Then he turned agonized eyes to Adam. “What if we’re too late?”

Adam shook his head and pressed his foot into the accelerator. “We can’t be too late, Ethan. We just can’t.”

Holly slowly opened her eyes, surprised at the effort it took. The air was frigid around her, and her jaw ached. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. She was in a one-room cabin, lying on the floor. She tested her arms and found they were free from the handcuffs she’d worn earlier.

Pale shades of light beamed through the one window. Dawn. So she’d been here at least two hours.

Tears leaked from her eyelids. Ryan. She’d never even told him she loved him. And now she’d never get that chance.

A sound startled her then pain assaulted her hip as her captor kicked her.

“I see you’re awake. Good. Now get up.”

She gazed warily up at him. It was the first good look she’d gotten of him. She’d expected a mean brute of a man, but she stared at what appeared to be a mild-mannered man of average height and size.

He smirked as if reading her thoughts.

“Don’t let my appearance fool you, my dear. Now you can get up of your own accord or I’ll get you up, and I assure you, it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

Terror washed through her system. She wanted to vomit. She put her hand out to prop herself up and shoved herself from the floor. As soon as she stood, the man grabbed her arm and jerked her toward a chair.

“Have a seat.”

She sank down in the chair situated by an old desk. The chair heaved and groaned as she settled her slight weight on it, and for a moment, she feared it would collapse.

She put out her hand to the desk to balance herself. She was cold. Colder than she’d ever been in her life. There was no heat in the cabin. No protection from the biting cold. Her limbs felt like blocks of ice. She shivered uncontrollably. Once she started, she couldn’t stop.

The man lit a cigarette and lazily blew smoke. He leaned against the small sink and watched her with cold eyes.

“I won’t beat around the bush. I’m going to kill you.”

Panic flooded her. Her throat tightened, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to die.

“But I’m going to be civil about it.”

He looked amused at his proclamation. He even emitted a dry chuckle.

“I’ll offer you a choice. A very quick, painless death, or,” he paused for effect, “it can be a very messy, very prolonged, very painful death. Your choice.”

Her mouth went dry.

“All you have to do is tell me who all knows what happened on your wedding night. Very simple. Mr. Bardwell is very keen to protect his interests. Which would be difficult in a jail cell, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

He took out a large, sharp-looking knife as he spoke. He caressed the sleek metal with his fingertips, running them over the edge to the point.

Holly’s mind raced. He was a talkative bastard. He was clearly enjoying the situation. Obviously if she talked, it would be over with in a matter of minutes. She eyed the knife, abject terror raging through her body.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon her courage. She pictured Ryan and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from weeping. She couldn’t allow this bastard to get away with what he’d done.

“So what will it be, Mrs. Bardwell? Shall we enjoy a brief conversation before your untimely demise?”

Her hand splayed out over the desk and she stood to her feet. “Go to hell,” she spat.

His eyes hardened. He crossed the space between them and without warning, grabbed her arm and yanked it behind her back. He whirled her around until she faced the desk. She cried out in pain as he continued to exert enormous pressure on her arm.

Higher he pushed. She screamed in agony and then she felt a pop. He’d broken her arm!

He let go and her arm fell, dangling at her side. Spots dotted her vision, growing larger until she feared she’d black out from the pain. Her hand scraped the desk trying to hold herself upright. Her fingertips brushed across a pencil and she curled her hand around it.