Lori L. Harris

Taken


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out here at this time of night? In a remote area. All alone and—

      Alone?

      Jillian stared down at the woman again, her gaze locking on the woman’s wrists. The bruises circling them were dark and uniform. As was the discoloration around the ankles.

      The dread and fear that had been pooling low in Jillian’s body suddenly poured through her, reaching her lungs, forcing her breathing to go quick and shallow.

      Jillian suddenly recalled how the woman had looked over her shoulder at the last moment. Was it possible that she hadn’t been looking for a way to avoid being hit? That she’d been expecting to see something coming after her?

      Or someone?

      Jillian grabbed Megan by the upper arm. She tried to pull her sister to her feet. “Come on. We need to get out of here. Now!”

      Megan jerked free, but almost fell across the woman in the process, catching herself at the last minute. She looked up at Jillian. “Are you crazy? We can’t leave her here like this!”

      “I wasn’t going to.” Keeping an eye on the woods, Jillian grasped the woman’s ankles.

      “What are you doing?” Megan tried to break Jillian’s hold. “You can’t—”

      “Get her arms.” If she was still alive—and Jillian had her doubts—the woman’s best chance was for them to load her into the car and get the hell out of here.

      Assuming the convertible was still drivable. She’d been so focused on the woman that she hadn’t given any thought to the condition of the car.

      “But—”

      Jillian straightened, hefting the weight of the woman’s lower body. The blue skirt slid up, exposing more dried blood and bruising. Anger flashed through Jillian’s veins. She’d seen photographs of injuries like this before, knew their cause.

      “Get her damn arms, Megan!”

      “Moving her might—”

      “Look at those bruises… No car did that. She’s been raped.” Jillian glanced at the woods. “We need to get out of here now!”

      Megan’s fingers immediately closed around the woman’s wrists, but it was still several seconds more before she actually got to her feet. They stood facing each other, the woman’s dead weight slung between them. “We’ll make it,” Jillian said. Not because she believed it, but because she wanted Megan to. “Ready?”

      With each awkward shuffle forward, they were forced to refine their hold as the woman’s wrists and ankles turned slick with fresh blood. Dead bodies didn’t bleed. Was it possible that the pressure she and Megan were exerting was causing the illusion of bleeding? Or was the woman actually still alive?

      “We need…we need to pick up the pace here, Meg.”

      Megan nodded wordlessly. Her breathing was coming just as fast as Jillian’s now. They were still twenty yards from the car when they both heard something and looked in the direction of the vehicle.

      Backlit by headlights, the silhouette of a man came toward them. Not from the woods, but from where they’d left the car.

      The sound of his boot heels striking the pavement echoed in the silence. Silence? She looked toward her car. Jillian had left the engine running. It no longer was.

      Blood rushed in Jillian’s ears, her heart slamming against her ribs. She heard the panicked, in-drawn breath of her sister and knew Megan shared her fear.

      The man tossed Jillian’s car keys into the air, and caught them easily. Then he started whistling a tune. She couldn’t see the grin on his face, but she suspected it was there. Just as she suspected that his slow, easy swagger was born of his belief that instead of one possibly dead female, he now had two very live ones.

      He was tall—six-two or -three—and appeared to be built solidly. Not the kind of man that even two women could easily overpower. He didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon. But could she really bank on that?

      “Megan?”

      It wasn’t until Jillian said her sister’s name a second time that Megan finally pulled her gaze away from the man. But even as Jillian lowered the woman to the ground, Megan just watched.

      “We can’t do anything for her now, Meg.” Jillian inched toward her sister.

      “We can’t leave her.” Megan’s voice was low. Strained.

      “We have to.” Jillian forcibly peeled Megan’s fingers from around the woman’s wrist.

      Leaving the woman on the pavement, Jillian backed away, taking Megan with her. She would have expected the man to pick up his pace, but he didn’t.

      The pressure in her chest built. Jillian checked the road and then the trees on either side. Which way? Staying on the road wouldn’t buy them any advantage. They hadn’t passed any cars or seen any sign of civilization.

      She checked the side of the road. The girl had come out of the trees to the right.

      “The woods on the left,” Jillian murmured as her fingers tightened around Megan’s lower arm. “When I tell you, we’re going to make a run for them.”

      Megan glanced over her shoulder, effectively giving away their escape route. Jillian couldn’t worry about that just now. The whistling grew louder, the man closer. She felt her sister inch backward. Megan’s shoulders straightened imperceptibly.

      That she seemed to have pulled it together some encouraged Jillian. But would Megan be able to react fast enough when the time came? And what was Jillian going to do if her sister didn’t? How was she going to protect Megan?

      Remembering the cell phone in her pocket, needing the assurance that it was still there, Jillian slipped her hand inside.

      The whistling stopped. As she watched, the man reached back and grabbed a shotgun that must have been strapped to his back. He brought it down and into position in a single, fluid motion.

      “Get your hands where I can see them.”

      She’d already started to obey his command when the sudden blast of the sawed-off shotgun sent a dozen ricocheting pellets into Jillian’s left shin, the pain like that of matches being shoved into her flesh.

      “Make one more move, and the next one will cut you both in two.”

      He had reached the downed woman, but simply stepped over her as if she were some animal.

      Jillian hobbled in place. Even if they made it to the woods, there was no guarantee of escape. They couldn’t outrun a shotgun.

      But what other choice did they have?

      “Meg?” Jillian kept her voice low. She tightened her hold on her sister’s arm until she felt her wince. “Nothing has changed. Even with the gun. Our best chance is to make a run for it. You understand?”

      Megan offered a solemn nod.

      The man was close enough now that Jillian could see his face. His lips curved upward as he focused on Megan, as if he found her fear amusing.

      When the man’s gaze returned to her, Jillian shifted slightly in front of Megan. For some reason, with his next step, he lowered the weapon to his side.

      Jillian didn’t hesitate. “Now!”

      As Megan turned to run, Jillian rushed their attacker. As she closed the distance, her vision tunneled down until all she could see was the end of the shotgun barrel as it came up again.

      The twin barrels appeared overlarge, like two soulless eyes summoned to witness her death. She’d had a rough start in life, and it looked as if the ending wasn’t going to be much different. But all she could think about was the years that had stretched between. The sister who even now was escaping. She had always wondered how she could repay the Sorensens for everything they had given her.