Page 93 of Cisco

“Where are you?” the man barked, picking up. “Crash told me you were indisposed, but when Buffy went to check on you, you weren’t in your cabin, and?—"

“Cisco’s in trouble.” Hilly cut Mase off. He could read her the riot act later. “One of my campers, Carter, hit him on the head and tied him up at Langford Cottins’ instruction. Cottins is going to do something terrible to Cisco. I have to get to him as fast as I can. Carter is headed your way. He’ll show your team how to reach the shack where Cisco’s being held. Hurry.”

She hung up before Mason could talk her out of her plan.

There was no way she was going to wait.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Cisco made his way deliberately across the room to the stovepipe, and began working the thick rope that bound his hands behind him, against the sharpest edge he could find. He wasn’t having much luck, and time was ticking. Not that he was going to give up. This was clearly a life-or-death situation for him, and he wasn’t going to let the asshole, Cottins, win.

He continued to saw, inadvertently and repeatedly slicing at his wrists, but what choice did he have? He had to work his way loose. Not just for his survival, but for Hilly’s, as well.

The timing on this whole thing, sucked.

He’d just found the one woman who could fill all the empty holes in his life, then the shit had hit the fan before he’d managed to tell her. He’d been moving slowly, deliberately—at least with the feelings part of things—knowing that Hilly would have a hard time believing him if he said he’d fallen in love so fast. But there was no lying to himself. That was exactly what had happened.

It hadn’t been a conscious plan; it had hit him out of nowhere within a few days of their first meeting. Previous to that, Cisco thought he’d been completely satisfied leading a solitary life—having fun with a variety of consenting women—but then he’d met one feisty redhead with an attitude, and she had challenged everything inside him.

Their physical explosiveness earlier tonight had simply cemented things for Cisco. It had been epic. There was no way he could picture himself with any other female, ever again. Hilly was the total package for him, and if…no, when he got out of this, he was letting her know exactly how far gone he was for her, and they’d have endless repeats of what had occurred between them in her cabin

Cisco gritted his teeth and sawed the rope harder. Sweat was beading up, dripping into his eyes and everyplace else on his pensive body. The salt was aggravating his cuts, but he wasn’t slowing down.

He shifted his hips, trying to get into a better position. If he could just?—

Footsteps sounded from outside.

Cisco cursed. Fuck.

It hadn’t taken Cottins long to get to his truck and back, which meant, what? There was a fire road nearby, where he’d hidden his vehicle?

Cisco upped his game and frantically sliced at his bindings until?—

Nel ran through the door, her tongue hanging out and her tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Nel?” Cisco didn’t know whether to be happy to see the dog, or worried that now she was here, Cottins might do something to her, too.

He called out loudly. “Stay back.” He hoped to put a scare into the developer.

“Cisco?”

The voice outside wasn’t who he’d expected.

“Hilly?” His heart jumped. “In here. Quick. Cottins is going to come back any minute, and I’m tied up.”

The beam from Hilly’s flashlight preceded her, and when she stepped in, she looked like an angel in the diffused halo.

“Cisco,” she cried, hurrying to his side, and kneeling down. “I was so worried.” She put aside her light, and looked at his wrists. “Oh, my God. You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to get out of these ropes,” he told her. “Do you think you can help me?”

Hilly went right to it, working the tight knots while trying to give him reassurances. “Don’t worry. If Cottins comes back, he’s not going to win. Your entire SWAT team is on the way. He won’t have time to do anything to either of us before they show up.”

Cisco found himself slightly amused. Which was fucked up, considering their highly volatile circumstances.

“You called SWAT?” he asked, unable to hide the humor in his voice.

Hilly gave him a grunt while she continued toiling. “No. I called Mason, and he was the one who activated the bat-signal.”

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