Page 58 of Mountain Challenge

“What about the incident weeks ago, with the tires?” Lorenz asked. His normally lazy expression was gone. Tonight, something fierce shone in his eyes.

Ry looked up quickly. He’d forgotten about the tires. “It was a teenage boy. Isla met with him last week, so he could apologize in person.”

Beau made a note on the board. “We’ll look into it. As well as both women’s bank accounts. How are you doing with those, Alex?”

“We’ve put out a formal request to get them,” Alex said carefully. “But I already have … some access to Isla’s personal account. I’ll look into that as soon as we’re done here.”

Ry wasn’t about to question how his friend had gotten said access. “Isla doesn’t have any money troubles. I would know about it if she did. You need to look at her ex-husband.”

Beau didn’t bat an eyelid. “You know we have to look at every possibility, Ry.”

Shit. His boss was right, as usual.

“We’re also looking for the car,” Tristan said. “We should know something early tomorrow morning.”

Ry focused on the board, where the list of items had grown as long as his arm. All things that had to be checked out. Taken individually, the items on the board made sense. But as he watched, the list blurred before his eyes. He wasn't thinking properly. He wasn't thinking at all. He wasn't feeling, either. Or rather, he was feeling too much. He’d been feeling too much all evening, ever since he walked into that empty apartment, and now it was as if he didn't have any feelings left. Just this fear—this awful, all-consuming fear. Fear of what Isla and her friend were going through—fear that the longer they went without knowing anything, the further away Isla could be.

He felt something wet on his cheeks.That explained the blurriness. He wiped the tears away angrily. He didn't have time for tears. He didn't have time for fear, he didn't have time for any of this.

“There’s nothing else we can do tonight,” Beau said. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Ry was tempted to refuse. But what good would it do to keep his teammates awake? He looked up to see Beau exchange a meaningful glance with Hugo, who immediately got up and walked around the table to him. It didn’t take a genius to know what the look meant. “Let’s go home, Ry. I’ll drive.”

30

Isla

At times, Isla could hear the men—or at least one of the men—moving somewhere upstairs. The rest of the time, the silence was deafening.

It was getting harder to focus on anything that wasn’t Laura. Her friend had woken up, briefly, soon after their captors had left. Dazed, eyes unfocused, Laura had barely had a few sips of water from the single copper-colored canteen their captors had left for them, before passing out again. She was still breathing, but the longer she stayed unconscious, the more Isla’s fear that something was wrong grew.

Something.

Euphemism of the year.

Tryeverything.

Because there was nothing Isla could do to help her friend. Not while they were stuck here. And she should be strategizing, planning how to get out of here. But instead, she was sittinghere, paralyzed by fear, her eyes so dry and scratchy from all the crying she’d done, she had no more tears left.

The noise grew louder—closer. As the door opened Isla stood up, leaning against the wall for support, praying fervently for it to be the slimmer man with the thin mustache—Richard. Her hope died when she saw Getty’s thick, round face.

“Do you want me to untie you?” he asked, keeping his hands up where she could see them. His voice was soft, but it was the kind of high-pitched, melodic tone some people used when trying to trick an animal into doing something. Most animals were too smart to fall for that tone. And Isla realized just how much the last hours had reduced her to an animal state—fear and instinct warring inside her. It didn’t matter what tone he used. There was nothing the man could say or do that would make her trust him.

Isla’s eyes stole behind her captor. Through the open doorway—the open doorway—she could see a stone staircase heading up.Towards freedom.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his grin widening. “You think you could make it before I catch you?”

It was a make-or-break moment, and she made the choice without even realizing it. Because somewhere in the last few hours she’d made up her mind that—given half the chance—she would run. And she was going to make good on that promise.

Her forward momentum was stopped by a sharp pain in her scalp as her captor pulled on her hair. She fell backwards, right into his arms. “Let me go!” Isla screamed.

Miles laughed. “Told you I would catch you.” One arm pulled tight across her body, pulling her back against his front, while his free hand roamed upwards. Up her leg, her hip, her breast. He tugged on her nipple—hard—and Isla felt her mind fracture.

“Stop screaming or I’m going to gag you,” he said, shaking her. Isla didn’t stop. She could no more stop screaming thanshe could take off in flight. She screamed and screamed, even as a ball gag was pushed against her mouth. She fought it, biting around it like a rabid animal, but moments later it was firmly in place. Inside, she was still screaming, but the sound was now muffled.

“Stupid bitch. I didn’t want to gag you. There’s other things we can do with that pretty mouth of yours,” Miles said, pushing her back carelessly onto the floor. Isla landed on her tailbone—the pain blinding, for an instant. But at least she was away from him, and that meant she could breathe again. She lay on the icy floor, panting. Waiting. Watching.

Then something changed in his expression. The anger was wiped off, replaced by a calm she hadn’t seen before. He wiped his hands against his jeans, seemingly satisfied with the lesson he’d taught her. There was a telling bulge on his pants that hadn’t been there before, and it filled her with fear, because she knew exactly when it’d come about. She’d felt it as they fought.Control. That’s what turned him on. Controlling her.

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