Gasping, Shiloh nearly lost consciousness, her head crashing into the hard earth. Eyes widening, she saw Anton Leath grinning savagely at her. He was in military camos, a knife in his gloved right hand. A strangled sound lurched out of her. Shiloh rolled, trying to get away from his hand snaking out to grab her.
“Bitch,” Anton growled, gripping her by the shoulder, easily hauling her slight frame up into a standing position. He saw the terror in Shiloh’s huge, shocked eyes. His lips twisted as he sank his fingers deep into her shoulder, watching pain flicker in her face. Thrusting the knife to her throat, the tip drawing blood just beneath her jawline, he snarled, “Fight me and I’ll gut you right here. Now be a good girl and come with me.”
Panic seized Shiloh. The wind roared around them, pummeling her. Rain suddenly unleashed from the dark, heavy skies. Pain serrated through her shoulder. “No!” she cried, trying to fight.
Leath snarled a curse, released her, and took the butt of the knife, striking her in the temple. He heard her shriek and collapse unconscious to the ground. Rain splattered him and he wiped his face, quickly looking around. The storm was perfect cover for him. Sliding the knife into a sheath on his right leg, he leaned down, picked up Shiloh, and lobbed her into a fireman’s carry across his thick, broad shoulders. The rain was quickening, striking at his body like bullets being fired. He had half a mile to make it under the cover of this bastard of a thunderstorm. Even better, as he started off at a slow, unwieldy trot, his footprints would be washed out by the massive storm and no one would ever know he’d been here. Grinning, he hunkered and crouched, Shiloh’s weight making him keep a slow, steady pace. He’d hit her hard enough, stunned her in the temple, that she wouldn’t regain consciousness, he hoped, until he reached the hill where his hide was.
*
Roan was sitting at Kassie’s Café having a cup of coffee when a terrible sensation rolled through him. Instantly, he recognized that familiar warning signal. Shiloh. Picking up his iPhone, he hit her number, and put the phone to his ear. The phone rang and rang and rang. Scowling, he ended the call. The storm was almost gone from the town of Wind River. Outside the main square, it was awash with flooding water rushing down the two main streets. Already, slats of sunlight were peeking through the ragged edges of the massive storm. There was even a rainbow forming in the wake of the storm. He remembered Shiloh was going to go out back and watch the storm’s approach. If she was outside, she might not hear her phone ring, the wind, rain, and thunder erasing the sound of it.
Rubbing his neck, he didn’t have a good feeling. Throwing some money on the counter, he eased off the stool and headed out the door, hurrying for his truck. The plaza was a mess. Water was running a foot deep, the storm drains unable to keep up with the flood. His truck would handle it. Chest tightening, Roan walked to the parking lot behind the café and climbed in. He knew there were two wrecks leading out of town. And he’d have to get the deputies who were stopping traffic to let him pass. Would they?
Something was wrong. He could taste it. And he’d had these warnings before as an operator in Afghanistan. It was a sign of the enemy nearby, an ambush. And he would get killed if he didn’t listen to his powerful intuition. Was he overreacting? Worried that Shiloh was out back in that coming storm? She could have been struck by lightning. Or . . . and his mind didn’t want to go there. Or, Anton Leath had either killed her or kidnapped her. His stomach churned with nausea. His mouth tightened and thinned, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he drove slowly through the sloshing water covering the highway, heading for the hill still blotted out by falling rain from the end of the storm.
*
Shiloh felt nauseous. Felt being carried. Felt Anton’s hands gripping her one ankle and her other wrist, holding her tight against his shoulders and neck. The rain was slashing down on her, her clothes soaked. Nausea and dizziness struck her again. She closed her eyes. He had captured her. And he was going to kill her. Just like he’d killed her mother. Oh . . . God . . .
Mind shorting out, barely able to think, Shiloh pretended to be unconscious, flopping around like a wet rag across Leath’s massive shoulders. He was a powerful man. She’d always been afraid of him. His huge hands hurt her. Tightly shutting her eyes, her teeth jarring as he jogged heavily through the howling wind and rain, she tried to think. Where was he taking her? Opening her eyes, she recognized where she was through the pall of rain.