Page 58 of The Captive
Nearly twenty minutes passed before the excruciating silence in the vehicle was broken again.
“Damn it,” Deacon swore.
She glanced over and saw him peering at the rearview mirror.Another curse hissed out of his mouth.
Alarm trickled inside her.“What’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed.”
The stretch of highway they were on had been deserted all morning, so when Lana turned to look at the side mirror, she immediately noticed the white van behind them.
“It could be nobody,” she offered.
No sooner had the words exited her mouth than the van picked up speed, now hugging their bumper.
Deacon slammed his foot on the gas pedal and the pickup hurtled forward.The van matched the pace.
“Damn,” Deacon mumbled again.
Lana held her belly protectively as they sped down the two-lane road, the white van continuing its pursuit.The highway was one long stretch with no curves in the distance, but the faster Deacon drove, the more panicked Lana became.The driver behind them wasn’t making any move to run them off the road, but stayed on their tail like a thoroughbred straining to close in on the front-runner.
“What do we do?”Lana demanded.
“We try to make it to the next exit and lose them then.”
Deacon’s plan erupted in flames as the screech of tires filled the air and a black SUV suddenly launched out from behind the white van and sped alongside them.
Heart thudding wildly, Lana peered at the windows of the SUV, but she couldn’t see through the tint.Not that there was much doubt about who it was.Le Clair’s men had been driving similar nondescript vehicles since they’d first abducted her.
Deacon released another wild expletive.“Get your head down,” he snapped.
She obeyed instantly, ducking down and keeping her head in her lap.They hit a pothole and her butt fully lifted off the seat from the force.Deacon kept driving, flooring the gas, but the SUV beside them was faster.
Lana peeked over and her heart lodged in her throat when she saw the SUV overpower them.The wind shrieked through the window she’d left a crack open, as Deacon drove at a furious pace, and then the crunch of metal had her flying into the door.The SUV had hit them!
Deacon worked valiantly at trying to control the pickup, but the truck lurched and rocked from each vicious slam.Fear paralyzed her limbs, while her pulse drummed loudlyin her ears.She wasn’t sure how long Deacon would be able to keep going, and just as the thought entered her mind, the scent of burnt rubber filled her nostrils.A blur of black flew past her peripheral vision and suddenly the SUV wound up in front of them, blocking both lanes as it came to a jarring stop.
Deacon slammed on the brakes, and she would’ve gone flying through the windshield if not for the seat belt.But her head did connect with the glove compartment, and Lana saw stars for several long seconds.She blinked wildly, drawing in gulps of air.A car door slammed, and despite the ringing in her ears, she heard footsteps approaching their vehicle.
A second later, her door ripped open, somebody unbuckled her seat belt and she was pulled from the car and thrown into the dusty shoulder of the highway.She instantly cradled her belly rather than breaking the fall, and her forehead bounced off the gravel and sent a streak of pain through her.
A pair of black boots entered her line of vision.When she raised her head, a wave of complete misery consumed her.
“Missed me?”Le Clair asked cheerfully.
* * *
Goddamn O’Neal.As he was being hauled out of the truck, Deacon had no illusions about how Le Clair and his men had found them.Shane O’Neal had evidently given them up.Hell, the bastard had probably even put a GPS transmitter in the damn truck.
So much for the tight-knit mercenary community.
The moment Deacon’s boots connected with solid ground, a fist connected with his stomach, making him double over.He glanced up to see Kilo winding his armagain, and then he gasped for air as his kidney took a vicious hit.
“That,”came Le Clair’s hard voice, “was for all the trouble you’ve caused me, Delta.”
Breathing through the pain, Deacon met Le Clair’s empty gray eyes.“How much?”he demanded.
“How much did it cost me to retrieve you?”Le Clair said with a knowing smile.“The original price on your head was fifty grand—I figured that would catch some attention when I spread it over the mercenary grapevine.But your friend O’Neal, I was surprised by how persuasive his negotiation skills were.We settled for seventy-five.”
