Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3)

My legs aren’t useless any longer. I start crawling away from their melee and then get to my feet, but my arms still being locked behind me throws off my balance. I stumble over fallen logs and massive tree roots protruding from the soft soil. With no hands to catch myself, I’m nearly impaled. The black night is interrupted only by the moon, which is hidden behind the dense trees, and I can hardly see. I’m fleeing and fighting for my very life in this desperate nightmare, as my shins, knees and feet are ripped by the terrain.

I twist my head, trying to make a split-second decision. That man was taking me somewhere, and I need to assume it was nowhere good! The guy who tackled us could be here to help me or he could just be another one of my captors. I have no idea who’s winning the fight back at the house. I won’t run back towards the mansion, and I won’t run in the direction my assailant was taking me. I’ll go east.

I’m only a few feet away when a terrible grunting and gurgling sound hits my ears. I’m compelled to look.

And immediately wish I hadn’t.

The man who took me is on one knee, holding the hilt of a knife that presses through the tackler’s heart. The sound is the man drowning in his own blood and fluids.

Not me, please not me! I push through on my knees over broken branches and puddles of dank, stagnant water. I pitch forward and my face smacks against the earth.

He’s on top of me in a heartbeat. “Don’t fucking run from me.” He seethes the warning into my left ear, quiet and deadly.

In the sharp glow of the moon, a trickle of blood drips from the large serrated blade he grips in his massive fist.

It’s instinct to scream. Self-preservation.

He mutters something, but I can’t hear anything except for my icy trill breaking through the night’s humid heat.

In the back of my mind, I realize the tape adhesive over my mouth must have been loosened by the water I face-planted in earlier.

A cloth is quickly stuffed into my mouth. I choke and nearly vomit as my belly goes back against his shoulder. I’m jostled as he continues on his original course.

I kick as hard as I can, but he holds my legs easily in his vicelike grip.

Moments later, he runs down a dock and throws me into the bottom of a boat.

The pain in my spine is sharp, but it dulls quickly enough. Rolling over, I see him grab the oar.

Jesus! He’s pushing us into the swamp!

Horror rushes through me. Oh my God! He’s going to dump my body in the swamp where they can’t find me!

All of that time keeping me “safe” and their talk of selling me undamaged comes to a screeching halt when they realize their plot was discovered.

I’m not dying this way!

His back is turned to me. It may be my only chance. I come at him with all my weight and drive him over the side of the boat. I take him off guard. He curses as he hits the shallow waters.

Lumbering to the front of the boat, I scan the dashboard, praying to see how to turn it on!

The silver moonlight glints off something metal on the floor. Wedged halfway underneath the carpet are a set of keys. I must have dislodged them from their hiding place when I ran over them. I land hard on my knees and scoop the keys up and then, with fumbling fingers, try the first key I get a good grip on.

The lights on the boat flash.

I feel a surge of excitement as I turn the key and listen to the rev of the engine.

Spinning around to face the wheel, I decide I can drive with my chin. Just as I lean down to engage the gas pedal, a bullet whistles over my head.

My body is roughly pulled to the floor by a pair of calloused hands.

“Are you fucking crazy!?” my attacker storms in my face. “Now they all know where we are!”

Bullets spray into the side of the boat as my attacker orders, “Hold your breath!”

Almost before I can suck in a quick gasp of air, he plugs my nose closed with his fingers, hugs me hard against him and throws us into water on the opposite side of the boat.





A painful rush of fluid coats my lungs in white hot fire. As I’m spitting it up and out of my mouth, I’m flipped harshly onto my side. Coughing and gasping for oxygen sends excruciating vibrations through my chest.

After a second, I understand I’m on land again.

The man who pulled me out here wrenches me up from the ground, but instead of throwing me over his shoulder, he holds me with my front slung against his, one arm latched around my upper legs and the other around the center of my back.

There’s been a lapse of time. What the hell happened?

I’m still choking on the water coming up from my lungs.

Did I almost drown? Did I fully drown?

Why am I alive now, then?

Did he . . .? Why?

Why would he revive me?

It makes no sense! I want to scream!

But then I see a black shadow closing in on us. An involuntary sound escapes my agony filled chest. Am I warning the guy carrying me or crying out for help from the one chasing us down? I don’t even know.

My eyes gaze upward just in time to see my assailant turn his head to see the guy chasing us. With the element of surprise no longer in his favor, the other guy stops, points his gun and takes several steps forward to close the distance between us.

My heart is hammering in terror and confusion.