Run to Me (6 page)

Rustling steps grew closer and closer. Her heart would soon burst from her chest. She couldn’t see anything in front of her. What was it? Who was coming toward her? Was it the demons? Were they attacking?

“Okay. I found us a …” A hand touched her face. “Shea? What’s wrong?”

It was the demon. He had come for her. Tied up, knowing she was going to die, she did the only thing she could. She opened her mouth and released an unearthly scream.

Ethan slapped a hand across her mouth. Anyone within half a mile would’ve heard her screech. Muffled under his hand, her screams continued. Pressing his forehead against hers, he growled, “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to knock you out again. Understand?”

His hand stayed firmly on her mouth until he felt her nod. Pulling away, he whispered furiously, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Someone is after me.”

“No shit, Sherlock. With that banshee scream, you pretty much ensured they’ll find you.”

She clawed frantically at the rope at her waist. “We have to leave … I have to go.”

“Finally, you said something sensible.” Untying her, he put his hands under her arms to pull her to her feet. Her slender frame shuddered and shook. “What’s wrong?”

“Need … to go … now.”

“Okay, fine.” He untied her feet but kept her hands bound. “This way.” His grasp tight, he found the path he’d made a few minutes earlier and pulled her along. He kept looking back to watch her. Not that there was much light left, but he had good night vision. Something was wrong with her. Hell, what was he thinking? Of course, something was wrong with her. But now there was more. She was acting even odder than before. If he could get her to talk, maybe he’d get some answers.

“I found a small cave. It’s not the Hilton, but it’ll do for tonight.”

Silence.

“You hungry?”

No answer. What had he expected?

He brushed aside the limbs he’d used to cover the small entrance to the cave. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I n-need to-to go-go to … to … bathroom.”

He untied her hands, then pointed to a tall bush a few feet away. “Over there. You got two minutes. If you run, you’ll regret it. Understand?”

Her shadow moved behind the bush and squatted. She was headed his way in less than a minute. Would miracles never cease? She’d actually done as he’d asked.

“Get in. I spread a couple of blankets out. It won’t be comfortable, but it beats being out in the open.”

Without comment, she stumbled into the cave and plopped onto the blanket. After covering the entrance again, he placed his flashlight between them and dropped down in front of her. Taking two protein bars from his bag, he handed her one. “Tastes like crap, but it’ll fill you up.”

A slender, trembling hand grabbed the bar. Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the woman across from him. He’d missed several things in his need to get her inside, out of the path of anyone who might have heard her scream. Sweat poured down her face. The night was warm, but not hot enough to cause that kind of perspiration. Her shaking had turned to violent shudders. Before, when she’d spoken, she’d stuttered. He’d attributed it to an urgent need to empty her bladder, but now he wasn’t so sure.

And why had she asked why he called her Shea?

An odd, sick thought hit him. “Shea,” he said quietly, “look at me.”

Her wobbling head lifted. Ethan’s heart plummeted to the deepest, darkest depths of his soul. Shea’s eyes were wild, dilated, and watery. “Good God.”

Never in the years he’d known her had she even drunk alcohol. Her mother and stepfather had been alcoholics and drug addicts. Shea couldn’t even stand the smell of alcohol. The few times he’d ordered a beer when they went out, she’d gotten all quiet and watchful. So how did someone who had such deep convictions about putting mind-altering chemicals into her body become a drug addict?

“Who did this to you?”

He wouldn’t get an answer. She was fast losing her battle with whatever was trying to control her mind. Hell, he didn’t even know what she was addicted to … not that it would help. He had a little medical training, but nothing in the way of how to handle drug withdrawal.

He watched as she lowered her head and tried, without success, to open the wrapper of the bar. Her hands were trembling so hard, she dropped it twice.

Ripping open his own bar, he handed it to her. He was probably crazy for feeding her, because she’d most likely throw it up. But they’d been on their feet for over fourteen hours with no nourishment. She needed something inside her, even if most of it came back up.

His appetite now nonexistent, he took her bar, tore it open, and ate the cardboard-flavored food in three bites. He ignored the taste—nourishment was their primary function, not enjoyment. Besides, the next few days were going to be rough as hell on both of them. They would need all the strength they could get.

Relieved to see that she had managed to eat the entire bar without gagging, he took the wrapper and handed her the canteen of water. “Drink as much as you need.”

Her teeth chattered so hard, they clanked against the canteen opening. Finally, she swallowed several mouthfuls and handed the container back to him.

“Drink more.”

Without questioning, she took several more sips, then looked up at him as if waiting for more instructions.

His heart heavy, he took the canteen and stood. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

Stark desperation gleamed in her eyes, revealing how close she was to losing control. He untied the laces of her boots and slid them off. Pushing her gently down onto the blanket, he covered her with another thin blanket and watched as she curled up into a fetal position. The blanket shook violently as shudders rippled over her entire body.

Ethan sat across from her in the small, dimly lit cave and felt a helplessness he hadn’t experienced in years. Forced at an early age to withstand more hardships than many people faced in a lifetime, he’d become a hardened, unemotional man. But this … this was something that ripped at him unlike anything else. A woman he had once loved, admired, and desired with a fierceness that sometimes stunned him was going through hell right before his eyes and he had no idea what to do for her.

How had this happened?

Weary beyond words, Ethan untied and removed his boots, then his socks. Placing them beside him, he set his gun beside the shoes. If Rosemount’s men were still following, they’d most likely camp for the night and resume their search at dawn. He’d covered their trail and doubted they’d find any trace of them. However, he didn’t know how long they were going to be in this cave. From what he knew about withdrawals, Shea wouldn’t wake up in the morning perfectly fine and ready to go. By morning, he figured, she wouldn’t even be lucid.

He unbuttoned his shirt to check his wound. With a slight wince, he stripped the tape away, revealing an angry-looking gash about six inches wide, but only about a half inch deep. Probably could’ve used some stitches, but sewing himself up while people were looking to shoot more holes in him was kind of hard. Besides, he’d had worse. What did one more scar matter?

After cleaning the wound with an antiseptic wipe, he applied ointment and slapped on another bandage.

“Does it hurt?”

Startled at the soft voice, he looked up to find Shea’s eyes open and watching. Though her body still shook, she seemed lucid and aware.

He shrugged into his shirt. “Not really … aches a little.”

She closed her eyes; he thought she might have fallen asleep. He was about to get up and stretch out beside her when she opened her eyes. “Who are you?”

“Ethan Bishop.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

The question made him furious, but the anger wasn’t directed at her. Shea had been Rosemount’s victim just as much as the women she’d kidnapped. “I came to rescue you … take you home.”

Would she even believe him? She closed her eyes, and he waited to see if she would speak again. After a few minutes of silence, he lay down beside her and switched off the flashlight. Her body continued to shiver … the hard ground transmitted each shudder to him.

He closed his eyes, hoping for a short nap before the real trouble began. Within seconds, the shivering increased to shaking so violent, he thought she was convulsing. Her teeth clattered as the involuntary movements of her body increased. With a vile curse at the bastard who’d done this to her, Ethan did the only thing he knew to do. Scooting closer, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

“Shea, you’re fine. You’re going to be okay.” Ethan repeated the words over and over, with the hope that somewhere in her ravaged mind she understood and was comforted. The blanket covering her was soaked in perspiration, hers and his. Her ice-cold skin was coated in moisture.

He held her until her breathing slowed from harsh, heavy pants to lighter, easier breaths. He blew out a long sigh, relieved that she’d finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Holding her like this brought back good memories. This was the way they used to sleep together, with her back to his front. She’d once whispered she loved to sleep this way because she felt surrounded by him. Hopefully, she felt some reassurance now. He inhaled her sweet, familiar scent and felt his body loosen from the tension that had gripped him all day.

Ethan jerked awake; his arms were empty. He reached for Shea and was rewarded with a fist to his jaw as she thrashed and rolled beside him.

“Shea, stop it.”

Agonizing sobs tore through her, and Ethan realized that as her arms flailed around her, she struck at creatures only she could see.

“No! Stay away! No! Don’t let them get me… . Please, God … help me!”

Ethan tried to wrap his arms around her again, but her legs began powerful bicycle kicks. Cursing, but knowing he had no choice, Ethan turned on the flashlight and pulled out the ties he’d used earlier. Holding her down, he tied her arms together and then her legs. Heart-wrenching sobs tore through her, and he was surprised to realize that tears poured down his own face. Whoever had done this to her would pay.

The night was long and excruciating. Since she couldn’t move freely, she ended up jerking most of the night, sobs and screams coming intermittently. She cried about demons coming to kill her, monsters that would shred her to pieces and devour her.

Every time she cried out, he soothed her with promises. When her body jerked with spasms, his was there to comfort her. He lost count of the times he wiped her body down. She was losing so much fluid, he worried about dehydration, so in her saner moments, he held water to her mouth for hydration. Most of the time, her eyes were closed. The few times she opened them, the hopelessness in them made him want to howl.

In the early afternoon she fell into a deep sleep, and Ethan was relieved to be able to untie her. Slumped back against the wall of the cave, his body ached as if he’d battled the very demons she’d had chasing her. Shea’s face was still unnaturally pale, but her breathing was only slightly elevated and her heart rate almost normal. He didn’t fool himself that the worst was over. Her body had shut down from exhaustion, but when she woke, she could be just as bad or worse.

He took advantage of her sleep to go out and check their surroundings. So far, there’d been no sign of Rosemount’s men, but he doubted they’d given up so easily.

The heat and humidity of the day had peaked. Within a few minutes, thunder would rumble and the almost daily deluge of rain would explode from the sky. Feeling as though he needed a thorough cleansing, he stood in the open and waited for the storm. A light, distant patter against the leaves grew quicker and harder, and then with a forceful rush, torrents of water gushed from above.

As rapidly as it had come, the rain ended, and hot steam rose with the afternoon heat. Wringing the water from his hair, Ethan shook himself like a giant wet dog and turned toward the cave. He skidded to a stop. Shea stood at the entrance. Her pale face drained even whiter as her eyes glittered with confusion and what looked like panic.

“Ethan?” Her voice was hoarse from the screams and sobs earlier, but he understood her.

“Shea?”

He took a step toward her. She took a step toward him. Then her eyes flared in a wild panic as her legs collapsed and she fell to the ground in front of him.

When he reached her, she was unconscious. He scooped her into his arms, carried her back into the cave, and settled her onto the blanket. Fiery strands of hair covered her face. When Ethan brushed them away, he was relieved to see her lids flickering.

“Can you hear me?”

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to focus. “Ethan?”

“In the flesh.”
Thank you, God. She remembers me.
He hadn’t dared hope it’d be that easy. Profound relief, gratitude, and a mass of other emotions filled him.

“What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

Her brow furrowed. “You rescued me?”

“Yes.”

“Have I been sick?”

Ethan went still. How much did she remember of the last few months? He treaded carefully, not wanting to scare or damage her further. “You were sick for a couple of days, but you’re going to be fine. We’ll get home and get you some help.”

Her gaze roamed over their surroundings. “Why are we in a cave?”

“Just came in here to take a rest.”

“Was I injured?”

“No. You were given a drug that made you forget for a while.”

She lifted up a few inches, then collapsed back against the blanket with a groan. “Who did this?”

“Donald Rosemount.”

A strange glimmer in her eyes made him ask, “You remember him?”

“Name seems familiar.” She closed her eyes and mumbled, “Need to sleep.”

The telltale flicker of avoidance in her eyes, combined with a subtle twitch of her mouth. He recognized both. Shea was lying. Why?

She’d always been the worst liar … one of her biggest drawbacks as an LCR operative. When you worked for an organization that relied on subterfuge for most of its missions, the inability to lie could be a fatal flaw. Shea had numerous skills, but lying had never been one of them. At least that hadn’t changed.