Page 28 of Protected By the Mountain Man

Nothing.

Not a peep.

That’s when the buzzing started—a low, anxious thrumming at the base of my skull. Something wasn’t right. The kind of not-right that had your heart thumping double-time against your ribs, screaming for you to take notice.

I backed up, eyes straining to make sense of what they saw. Livy was there, hunched and small, her figure partially swallowed by shadows.

But she wasn't alone.

“Olivia?” My tone was soft now, laced with unease. I took a step toward her, aching to see her face, to understand why she stood so still, so quiet.

My gaze slid past her, drawn inexorably to the shape behind her.

A big shadow.

A man.

Panic clawed its way up my throat as I tried to make sense of it. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms.

“Olivia, you’re gonna be?—”

My reassurances died in my throat as someone lunged at me from behind, knocking the breath out of me. His hand clamped over my mouth with such force that my teeth snapped together. The bastard cursed under his breath, hot and angry right into my ear. His other arm wrapped around me like a vise.

I caught the scent of him, cheap cologne trying to mask the stink of sweat and something else…fear?

No, it was mine, the fear.

It had to be.

Livy's eyes were huge, tears streaming down her cheeks, glistening even in the half-light. “Aunt Kat…?” Her voice trembled, a fragile thread of sound about to snap.

“Shut up,” the man behind me growled. “One more word, and she dies.”

His words punched through my shock, spurring me into action. But the cold kiss of metal at my side froze me again. A blade, just barely kissing my skin through my shirt. Damn it. I should've been paying attention, should've seen this coming. Maybe then I wouldn't be here, Livy wouldn't be crying, and we wouldn't be at the mercy of these sons of bitches.

“Easy, girl,” the man behind me hissed, mistaking my tension for struggle. “We don't wanna hurt you…much.” His voice was muffled, and I realized as my eyes adjusted to the darkness that both were wearing ski masks.

“Time to pack your bags,” the one by Livy said, his voice a grating sneer. “This land's too much for a lonely girl like you.”

I squinted at him, trying to place that voice. No luck. The fear in my chest coiled tighter, but I couldn't let it paralyze me—not with Olivia afraid and sobbing, her small frame shaking in terror.

“Please,” I managed to mumble against the rough palm pressed to my mouth, my voice nothing more than a muffled plea.

“Enough talking,” he snarled and tightened his grip, but I barely felt it. My mind was racing, images of Gabe's strength, of the way he'd toss hay bales like they were nothing, flooding in.

Gabe. He was out there, in the barn. If I could just get free…

Livy's soft sob broke through my thoughts. My heart clenched, but I pushed the panic back down.

I had to be strong—for her.

I shifted slightly, pressing my weight into the balls of my feet.

“Scared, huh?” he sneered, breath hot against my ear.

You wish.

With all the force I could muster, I kicked back at his shin, heel first—thank God for cowboy boots. A grunt, and his grip slackened just enough.

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