Page 79 of Mountain Defender

Her brain swirled that information around and around for far too long. Her mind was muddied, and that scared her. She only had her wits to fall back on.

She didn’t have any enemies, but in her job, she could easily make some. Most of the guys in her office told stories of ticking off people connected to those they investigated. It was part of the reason why Eric had been so thorough about setting up her meeting with Bryson Tripp.

Dangerous people played dangerous games. Now she was learning that firsthand.

Her head lolled on her neck, the throb in her cheek pounding to the rhythm of her pulse.

She drew a breath in through her nose. The place smelled like woodsmoke and fresh-cut pine, probably from the new planks covering the floor. She also detected something slightly sour, like cheap beer.

Her stare lifted over the man’s legs to the black hoodie he wore. She peered closer at the chest, hoping to see a logo that would give her any indication of who this man was or where he’d taken her.

Obviously, he’d been hiding in the Humvee, but how? That thing had a solid alarm system and it was parked in front of a busy store. Somehow, he’d managed to breach the door and hide inside, lying in wait for the moment that she got in.

She carefully lifted her eyes to his face. He wore a mask, she knew from the brief glimpse she’d already gotten of him, and his eyes were brown. Just brown. She couldn’t think of any other way to describe them.

Average height, brown eyes, wearing camo hunting pants, a face mask and a black hoodie. And he hit hard.

At that moment, she realized the pain in her cheek extended to the back of her head. He’d struck her there too, knocked her out. Then what? Made a getaway with her in her own vehicle?

Bryson. Oh god, was Bryson okay? What if her attacker came with friends and jumped him coming out of the store?

Her brain calmed. Bryson was a mean, tough, military-trained weapon of a man. He wasn’t going down without one hell of a fight.

That was if her imagination hadn’t run away with her and therehadbeen a fight. It was far more likely that this guy bashed her over the head and drove off with her tied up—she tested the bonds around her wrists—with zip ties.

More probable still that no one knew where she was.

Her phone. She needed to find it. Was it still in her coat pocket?

Heart hammering, she attempted to keep a calm, clear head, and that meant getting the right level of oxygen to her brain for maximum capacity. Too much and she’d hyperventilate and pass out. Too little and her brain function would be slowed and even more impaired than it felt with the pain throbbing through it.

Boots scuffed on the floor. They came into her line of vision, and she realized her head had dropped again. She was really not doing well, was she? Her first kidnapping and she was messing everything up.

The thought would make Bryson laugh. One of those warm, low chuckles that smeared desire across her senses and made her panties wet with desire.

Where was he? God, would he search for her?

Forcing her neck muscles to engage, she managed to drop her head back enough to peek through the crack in her blindfold.

Or…now that she thought about it, the thing around her eyes felt like tape.

There were few windows in the space, but a single bare bulb hung over a small square table that also looked to be handmade from fresh-cut pine, the source of the smell.

On top of the table was a stack of newspapers, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Easy to light a fire as a distraction and make her escape—if she could get out of these zip ties.

“What are you going to do with me?” Her demand came out in a strong voice.

Were her feet tied too? Yes. Not together—but each ankle was strapped to the chair leg.

Fury hit like a screech of metal on metal in her brain. Her emotions derailed, and she barely kept from screaming. As soon as she opened her mouth, he’d silence her with his fist, and she needed every wit she possessed to get out of this situation.

She needed to free her hands.

The task felt as likely as her scaling Everest. She didn’t even want to hike up the mountains she and Bryson had driven through. But if she wanted to get back to the man who was cracking open her heart, then she had to dosomething.

Her captor walked to a stack of wood and fed an old woodstove two sticks of wood. When he crouched in front of the flames, she hoped he lost his balance and fell into the flames.

“Why did you kidnap me?”

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