Page 74 of Montana Heat

Staying as still as possible, I took inventory of my body, cataloging what hurt and where. Pain radiated from several places, but overall, I felt intact. Though I knew I would have a bunch of bumps and bruises, out of all my aches, my head and stomach hurt the most. I also felt sluggish and disoriented and a little sick to my stomach.

But that was nothing compared to what they’d done to Jensen.

The last thing I’d wanted was for my family or friends to be hurt back in Denver. But I couldn’t stand the thought that anything had happened to him either.

I could still see the baseball bat swinging. Still hear that sickening thud as it hit him.

I had no idea if he was even alive.

My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I tried hard to keep them at bay. Jensen couldn’t be dead. I refused to believe it. He just couldn’t be, not so soon after I’d found him.

He had to be okay. As soon as I got back to him, I wouldn’t waste a single second to tell him how much he mattered to me. How thankful I was for him.

But first, I had to escape. I needed to focus and figure out what was going on now. How I could get away. Where was I being taken?

I forced my eyes open and wiggled my fingers. My wrists were still bound, in front of me now. At least I wasn’t blindfolded or gagged.

I opened and closed my mouth, then swallowed hard. My skin was tight. My mouth was dry. I needed to get used to moving again, and while I did, I studied the two men who’d taken me.

They’d taken off their masks, and I could make out some of their features. I didn’t recognize either of them, not from real life and not from any of the photos I’d looked at from the hotel. Was one of them my stalker?

Hell, werebothof them my stalker—two people working together this whole time?

I flexed my hands, testing the strength of the zip tie and how well I could move my fingers. Not tight enough to cut off circulation, but I couldn’t get much range of motion with the plastic digging into my skin.

I silently twisted and tugged but couldn’t get my hands out. Whatever I did would have to be with that handicap.

I shifted my view to the door. The handle was right there, only inches from my face.

Could I open the door and jump out?

I wasn’t sure I could. The way I was positioned and with my wrists bound, I’d be clumsy and slow to move. The men in the front would realize I was awake. I envisioned them slamming on the brakes. I’d be tossed forward, unable to break my fall. Then by the time I’d twist and reach for the door, they’d be on me.

Or even if they didn’t, it still wouldn’t work. Leaping out of a car going this fast was only going to get me killed.

But I refused to lie here and do nothing. I would have to use the only thing that gave me an advantage. My mind.

“Which one of you is my actual stalker?” I cleared my throat, desperate for water, as my words came out hoarse.

The tall guy in the passenger seat grunted, turning just enough to see that I was awake. He glanced over at his partner, a bald man, who met his eyes but kept driving. Neither of them answered.

“It obviously has to be one of you two if you kidnapped me. Why are you doing this?”

“Look, lady,” Tall Man responded. “We don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Neither of us are stalkers. We don’t even have any idea who you are.”

“What? Then why the hell did you kidnap me?”

Silence reigned once more.

I decided to go another route. “How did you find me?”

Tall Man shook his head. “We were given the location.”

Given? Okay, this was making a little more sense. These guys had been hired by someone, undoubtedly my stalker. “By whom?”

More silence.

A thought came to me. “Either of you ever been in prison?”

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