Page 4 of Finding His Way

That didn’t go well. At least, not for me.

But while she was a lot of things, a quitter wasn’t one of them.

Dianna stopped pacing and rubbed her chest. It hurt.I hurt. And not merely a physical pain, something deeper than that and she wasn’t sure how to handle it, so she did what she always did. Toss up walls and push people away.

She was damn good at her job. Dianna snorted. “I was until I got blindsided at the docks.”

It still bothered her. The events of that night. They’d had a tip called in which in turn had sent her and Michaelson to check it out. She stopped pacing and braced one hand against the cold wall.

Damn it!

Recollection wasn’t coming. Nothing past arriving and getting out of the car. She hadn’t been shot but hit. By a goddamn car. Other than that, though, she didn’t know.

“I won’t complain about the mugginess of Miami again though. I’m fucking cold.”

And she had been for a while now. The unpleasant feeling had become a way of her new life. Increasing after they thrust the water on her.

The door swung open. She’d not heard them coming, however, she never did. The walls were thick as fuck. If there were others wherever she was, she never heard a single peep out of any of them.

She didn’t make them get her, simply walked obediently to the door where two waited. One on each side of her, not touching, but she knew it wouldn’t take much out of her for them to manacle strong hands onto her body and force whatever they wanted. While she was out getting her weekly douse, someone would switch out the bucket she had for a bathroom.

Head down, doing her best to appear weak and cowed, she shuffled along. Squinting her eyes against the glare, she couldn’t repress the shiver, even if she wanted when the cold wind bit into her exposed skin.

Again, without direction, she moved to stand in the same spot she had for the previous weeks and waited. Through slitted lids, she gazed around best she could without alerting anyone as to her actions.

Forest. No city sounds. Fair enough, you could be in the Glades and not hear the hustle and bustle of Miami.

I’m definitely not in the Glades. Not close to Miami because it’s to damn cold. Add to that, there’s snow on the ground and no way I am still in Miami.

It wasn’t fresh snow for she didn’t spy boot prints when those watching her moved. Crusted over and thick if it didn’t do anything beneath their larger weight. Good to know they would have a harder time tracking her when she made her escape.

See, I can be fucking positive. Just like I am in that my Panthers will bring home Lord Stanley.

Wherever she was, the forest was quiet. She’d learned a few things about being outdoors after one of her best friends got married and moved to the rainforest in Brazil. And there, it wasn’t ever quiet.

Unless a predator was around.

Unease slithered up her spine. Why was it quiet here? Other than the men, what sort of predators did she have to contend with?

Splash!

The icy water smacked her and ran in rivulets down her body. She shivered more as the wind picked up.

Of course it decides now is the time to do that.

Shivering again, she made a step to the left, as usual, only to be brought up short at the press of one large hand against her chest. She opened her eyes to look up at the hooded man before her.

This shit was freaky. Not being able to see a single feature on the person, as he, or she, had zero exposed skin. She bet it was a male. Other than a figure, she wasn’t able to figure more than that. The touch barely lasted three seconds but it made her all the more aware of how much trouble she was in.

The person reached out a hand and another put something in there that was then moved in front of her. Looking away from the place a face should be, she saw what they held. Clothing.

Expecting a trap, she didn’t move. The figure holding them shook them in her direction, still not a single sound emerging from whoever it was.

Caution riddled her but the thought of clean, dry clothing eventually became to much to pass up and she reached out to pluck them from the grip before her. Once she held them she nearly pulled them tight to her and burrowed her face in the heavy material.

Eyes on the one before her, she held still, continuing to expect some kind of hit or attack. All she got was a chin jut.

They wanted her to change here? Now?

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