Ryan closed his eyes and prayed.
Chapter Twenty
The opening ofthe barn door brought Taya back to consciousness. At the sound of Mason’s voice, she rolled behind the hay bale. Every movement made her breath hitch, and she fought to control her breathing so the two men wouldn’t hear her.
“Is she dead?” Mason asked.
“She ain’t moved in a while.”
Mason exhaled heavily. “Pity. You can go now. We’ll be leaving as soon as possible.”
“What about her?”
“Leave her.”
Taya’s heart thudded. At least she was alive enough to feel each sharp stab of pain.
Soft footsteps came her way as the barn door opened again. Inch by inch, Taya pushed to a sitting position.
“So, you aren’t dead.” Mason grinned down at her. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She spit, blood dotting his boots. “Thanks for the compliment.”
He hunkered down next to her. “You don’t look good, Taya.”
“Thanks again.”
“What should I do with you now?”
“I’m at your mercy.” She took a quick glance at the pitchfork sticking up from the bale.
“I could leave you here to suffer through your injuries. Eventually you’d succumb to them.” He brushed a strand of damp hair out of her eyes. “But you’d live the last few hours of your life knowing Tracy was out of your reach forever.”
Her stomach rolled. She turned her head and wretched.
Pushing to his feet, Mason shook his head. “A real pity.”
When he turned, she lunged to the other side of the hay bale, drawing on every last bit of strength she could muster and gripped the pitchfork. “Hey, Mason.”
He whirled, pulling a gun from his waistband.
She thrust her weapon forward, ramming the sharp points into his gut. “You’ll spend what little time you have left knowing you’ve failed.” She shoved it deeper.
He fell, taking the pitchfork with him and dropping his weapon. Obscenities spewed from his mouth as he tried to pull the fork free. “This time I’ll make sure you die by my hand.”
“Good luck with that.” Taya stumbled for the door, grabbing Mason’s dropped Glock on her way. She peered out the double doors. No one paid any attention to the barn. She stepped out. When no cry of alarm came, she ran for the nearest building, a metal shed that looked as if it was used to hold heavy machinery.
The massive front doors refused to budge. Taya skirted around the corner, one hand clutching the gun, the other arm held tight to her ribcage. Every breath ripped through her, a shudder letting her know something inside was broken. No time for healing now. She’d check out her injuries once Tracy was safe.
A side door slid open with the shriek of metal on metal. Taya glanced back to see whether she had attracted any attention. When no one dashed her way, she slipped inside, sliding the door closed behind her.
Darkness greeted her. Where was a flashlight when a girl needed one?
Her shin banged something hard. She hissed against the pain and kept moving toward a small light from under a door on the opposite side of the building.
Taya pressed her ear to the panel. “Tracy?” She knocked three times.
“We’re here, Taya. We’re here.”