Page 33 of Love Undercover
The distraction kept her from seeing the root in front of her, and she caught the toe of her sandal. Her inhale whistled through her teeth as she lost her balance and staggered forward, hands automatically shooting forward in case she fell. She didn’t. Until her ankle dipped sideways, and she went down with the pain that seared up her leg like lightning.
On hands and knees, her pulse throbbing in her ears, she shuffled around, ignoring the bite of pine needles in her palms as she pushed herself back onto her bottom. She winced as she moved her legs in front of her.
Probing around her ankle with shaky fingers pulled a hiss through her teeth, the pain slicing under her touch.
“Oh, no, no, no.” She felt along her ankle again. “Ah.” Her shoulders fell. “Great.”
She pulled her purse forward to rummage for the arnica and rubbed the cream over her injury, suppressing the urge to wince again. Hopefully, it was just a mild sprain. She’d rolled her ankles before, not always watching her footing during runs or when she’d played volleyball in college. Usually, it only bothered her for a few days if she took it easy. But she couldn’t take it easy now. She was in the middle of the woods, and her only way out was on foot.
Chewing her lip, she looked in the direction she’d been heading. How far was she from town? No answer magically came to her, of course. And there was no way to tell how long she’d been walking to get a gauge on distance.
It was poor planning on her part that she hadn’t checked what time it was when she’d left. If she knew when she’d set out,she could figure out whether the town or the house was closer, assuming she’d stayed on track the whole way.
Maybe she could walk on the ankle. It might make her recovery time longer, but it would be worth it in the end. She could add ankle injury to her kidnapping excuse for missing her shifts at the library.
Using a nearby tree to leverage herself up, she was careful to keep her weight on her good foot and set her mind on pushing through the pain. She puffed out several deep breaths and started forward with a limp. But even trying to use that foot as little as possible, hot stabs of agony stabbed through her with each step, and eventually, she crumpled to the ground again, a steadily climbing rage bubbling through her.
It was times like these that she was tempted to break her rule and let a stream of curses loose. But she was nothing if not committed to her students, so she clamped her lips against the urge.
She scooted back to a tree and leaned against it, counting each forceful inhale and exhale until her frustration lowered to a simmer.
Okay, now she needed to make a plan. Maybe just resting for a while would do her good. Give it fifteen minutes and try again.
Opening the water bottle, she took a long pull of hydration, glad she’d thought to bring it. Not grabbing a snack was now looking like a terrible decision since her adventure would be taking longer than anticipated.
Should’ve known better, she thought. How often did she go through the day with her kindergartners and see that always having a snack on hand solved a multitude of ills? Sure, they were children and she was an adult, but the basic logic was there. Always have a snack for unforeseen delays.
The bark was against her head as she leaned it back and tried to focus on the way the leaves of the deciduous trees flutteredin a breeze far above her. She could easily pretend this was just an exercise in connecting with nature instead of an attempted—and thwarted—escape from a probably-good-guy-disguised-as-a-bad-guy-kidnapper-inn-keeper.
Except that her whole foot now throbbed. And she still smelled like dried sweat. And her hair was a ratty mess. And the pine needles were poking into her butt through her thin—and still ripped!—linen pants.
Sitting wasn’t doing her much good, considering the negative thought patterns, so after a few minutes, she tried again to get to her feet and walk.
“Suffer through the pain,” she told herself, the words coming through her teeth. “People walk with gunshot wounds. They swim after shark attacks.”
With all her focus on walking through the pain, she didn’t catch the noise at first. Then she heard a twig snap and halted, her muscles pulling taut. Putting a hand against a tree trunk to steady herself, she listened for another sound, hoping it was just her imagination. Or just a cute woodland creature. Not a mountain lion getting ready to attack.
Please be a squirrel.
Heart punching against her ribs, Sadie turned to look behind her, eyes searching the trees that suddenly felt like reaching skeletons instead of protective pillars.
A thrill of nerves cascaded over her, and the impulse to run came on so strongly that she took off, the pain in her ankle disappearing beneath a rush of adrenaline. It pumped in her veins like a drug, making her feel invincible. And drop the water bottle.
“Sadie!”
Chase’s voice sent an electric bolt through her, halting any mental capacity for half a second. She faltered, stumbled, then went down.
12
Piggyback
In hindsight, Chase realized he should’ve approached things differently.
He’d come across Sadie as she rested against a tree. She didn’t look scared, so she probably hadn’t been brought out against her will. But it didn’t mean she was alone. So he’d circled the area, checking the ground for footprints that didn’t belong to her, oblivious to what he came to realize when she tried to flee—that she’d injured herself.
When he shouted her name, the way she’d stumbled and fallen had pulled his eyes to her leg, which had folded under her. She cried out, the agony in her voice cutting straight through him.
He jerked forward as if he could catch her, then took off, hurdling over the roots that lurched up from the forest floor, then slowed just in case he would scare her again. But she was apparently not concerned because she stayed on her hands and knees, puffing air in and out through clenched teeth.
