Page 60 of Emma's Element

Things were so perfect with Emma as they were right now; he wondered if bringing talk of love into it would mess everything up. Would she laugh at him if he confessed how he felt? He wanted to think that after everything they’d shared, she wasn’t the type of person who would treat him like that, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know how to trust people anymore. Didn’t even trust himself when it came to his instincts about people.

He could walk away, leave again. That way, his heart would remain whole. If he didn’t expose his emotions, he wouldn’t be hurt. But if he did that, he ran the risk of losing the greatest love of his life. He couldn’t leave her. Not without knowing for sure how she felt about him. The question remained; how did he go about finding out?

He was about to return to the tent when voices raised in anger reached him. He wended his way away from the campsite and through the woods, following the voices. He stayed out of sight, edging along the tree line of a clearing. Three men stood there, one of them on his phone.

He scrutinized the men as the one on the phone argued with the caller. The man nearest Marcus was probably the youngest, he guessed in his early thirties, and stood with his back to him. The light from the phone screen shone on his cheek, and Marcus could discern his blond hair. He was tall and lean and obviously, someone you didn’t mess with if the weapon tucked into his waistband was any indication. “Yeah, they’re here, together,” he said into the phone.

The tallest man was an older Hispanic man with a permanent scowl, dark hair, and even darker eyes. The third guy was also Hispanic but shorter than the other two. He held a military-grade knife that he flipped over his hand continuously. Both men were also armed.

“Don’t worry. We know what needs to be done. We’ll get it from him one way or another.” The tallest man hung up his phone and slid it into his pocket before eyeing the other two. Marcus crouched low to stay out of sight, then took his phone out. Making sure to turn the brightness down so as not to alert them to his presence, he opened his camera app and started recording. It was risky, he knew. But he had to do something, even if he didn’t know why. Something inside told him these men were planning something, and it wasn’t good.

“So, what’s the plan?” the short one asked.

“We take them together. Alive.” There was something about that voice . . . it was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it before.

“Why alive?” The taller Hispanic asked.

The blond man slapped him in the back of the head. “We need them alive, dumbass, so we can get the money. We’ll use the bitch to control him.”

Shorty flipped the knife around again. “I’d like to control her,” he sneered, making the hair on the back of Marcus’s neck rise. “Bet she’s never had a real man between her legs.”

A gruff chortle sounded from the tall minion. “Yeah, a real man. Not that pansy she’s been shacking up with.” The way they were talking about potentially raping a woman infuriated Marcus.

“Shut it, assholes. When we get what we want from him, you can have your fun with the bitch. But not before.” The man who was obviously in charge looked briefly at his watch before continuing, “We need to use her to manipulate him.”

“How do we do that?” Shorty asked.

“The guy’s got a soft heart. He’ll do whatever we want to keep her safe. After he signs everything, we kill them.” The boss raised his hand to stop whatever Shorty was about to say. “After you’ve had your fun, of course.”

The two men chuckled, giving each other a conspiratorial look, promising to carry out whatever depraved actions they had in mind against whoever they were targeting. Marcus glanced at his phone, making sure he was still recording. As soon as he could sneak away, he’d call the police and hand over his footage.

The boss looked at his watch again. The man’s identity pulled at something buried in his memory. He was positive he’d heard that voice somewhere before. “We’ll give it another forty-five minutes to make sure they are done fucking and sound asleep.” Shit, that didn’t give him much time to get the authorities here.

He was about to creep away as silently as possible when the boss’s next words froze him in place. “But don’t underestimate them. From what I understand, the bitch is former military and can fight with the best of them.”

Shorty snickered. “I’d like to spar with her,” he taunted, making Stretch nod in agreement.

The boss ignored the interruption. “And he may be an actor, but he trains hard, and I heard he does most of his own stunts.” Hearing those words, his body went numb, and the phone nearly slipped from his fingers. Shit, they were talking about him. And Emma. Fuck, he had to get back to her, get her to safety.

He pocketed his phone and backed slowly away, using the shadows from the trees as cover. His mind raced as he meticulously placed each step, careful not to snap a twig and alert them to his presence. What could they possibly want from him?

Money. This was all about money. Another asswipe thinking they could extort what they wanted from him. But these guys were smarter than most. They’d found his weakness and intended to use it against him. He’d been so worried about the media destroying Emma that he’d never imagined the real danger came from common thugs.

When he deemed he was far enough away, he stood to his full height and moved faster. An urgency to get back to Emma and get the hell out of here drove him. The voices still carried over to him. The boss was saying something about the rest of their group meeting up with them soon. Then he heard the words that chilled him to the bone, compelling him to move faster.

“Did you see that?” Shorty asked.

“What?”

“Movement. There.”

“You’re seeing things. Probably just an animal,” the boss insisted.

“We should check it out just to be sure.” Marcus ran then, as fast as he could back to Emma. He burst out of the woods and found Emma just climbing out of the tent.

“Marcus? What’s the matter?”

“Grab your pack!” he ordered. “We need to get out of here . . . now!” She crouched down into the tent and threw out both their packs. He hefted them over his shoulder and grabbed Emma’s hand. The men tromped through the woods he’d just left. If they tried for the car, they’d be spotted for sure. And since those guys had guns, he couldn’t risk it. They had to disappear into the woods on the other side of the campsite. They could go back to where they had been climbing and hide out at the top of the rocks.

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