Valerie Hansen

Face of Danger


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were moving in slow motion. Paige stiffened. Every fiber of her being was taut, every nerve singing with a silent scream of terror.

      She started to straighten and ease away, barely able to make her feet move, partly because she desperately wanted to rescue Max.

      A burly, bare arm thrust through the foliage. A hand clutched at her. Beefy fingers encircled her wrist and part of her forearm, holding tight. Hurting her.

      Paige gulped air. Filled her lungs. Began to scream and kept wordlessly screaming, over and over, until she was so lightheaded she was afraid she might pass out.

      Her assailant’s grip merely constricted more.

      All logical thoughts fled, leaving Paige feeling as if she were trapped in a horrifying nightmare. Only this was all too real.

      At her wits’ end, she began to twist and cry, “Help! Help me!”

      The man who had grabbed her stepped out of the bushes and in doing so apparently freed Max, because Paige saw a flash of fur passing on her left.

      At least her dear pet was safe, she thought, realizing that she was still in terrible danger.

      “No. Let me go! Help!” she kept shouting.

      Kicking and thrashing at the man who held her prisoner, she tried to land a blow that would be forceful enough to make him release her. All he did was laugh at those feeble efforts while Max circled, barking furiously.

      The man’s wicked-sounding laughter cut straight into her mind like the blade of a knife and made Paige so angry she lost normal rationality. The man who had kidnapped her sister had laughed like that. And she’d been too young, too weak, too frightened to stop him. Well, not this time.

      She came alive. No longer feeling like a victim, she became the aggressor. Flailing with her free hand and both feet she managed to land a hard kick to the man’s kneecap that made him grunt and stagger.

      Then, bringing the heel of her hand up under the fleshy part of his nose, she heard a sickening crack. Yes! She’d done real damage.

      He howled, cursed unintelligibly, and let go of her arm so he could cup his face with both hands.

      Paige fell backward, landing so hard it knocked the wind out of her. Scrambling to her feet, she saw her usually timid dog worrying one of the man’s pant legs. Because of the distraction, she realized she now had a chance to escape. Praise the Lord!

      She whirled and started to run, leaving her attacker apparently trying to staunch blood from his broken nose and shake off the growling dog at the same time.

      “Max!” Paige screeched as she neared the back door, hoping and praying he’d heed her command. “Max!”

      Her hand closed over the knob. She twisted and jerked open the door, afraid to look behind her.

      Was the man at her heels? Had Max come? She didn’t dare wait to see.

      A sob of relief caught in Paige’s throat when she saw a large, furry, black-and-white form whiz by her legs and barely beat her through the doorway.

      Slamming the door, she locked it, then leaned against it to catch her breath. They’d made it! They were safe, at least for the time being.

      Now what? How do I protect us if he recovers and tries to break in? she asked herself, knowing the answer immediately. If ever there was something important to report, this was it.

      She raced to her purse, found the card Cade Jarvis had given her, punched in his private cell number with shaky fingers, then plopped into the closest chair.

      By the time the phone had rung twice, Paige had managed to catch her breath enough that she was positive she’d be able to deliver a clear report.

      The instant she heard the Ranger sleepily say, “Jarvis here,” however, she felt tears welling and a lump in her throat that refused to go away no matter how hard she swallowed.

      “It’s me. Paige Bryant,” she managed to squeak out. “I need help. Somebody’s outside my house.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because I saw him!” The tears finally spilled down her cheeks. “I got away but…”

      “Where are you now?”

      “Inside.”

      “Are you armed?”

      “No.” She heard him muttering under his breath as soon as she answered.

      “Okay. Just stay put and lock your doors,” Cade ordered. “What’s your home address?”

      She told him, then hung up and went to make sure all the doors and windows were secure. Merely knowing that the Ranger was on his way was amazingly comforting.

      It belatedly occurred to her that most people would have called 911, instead. Not her. Anytime she could rely directly on the Texas Rangers for help, they’d be her first and only choice. Even the one she’d just phoned.

      In her mind, that statement was immediately altered to be, Especially the one she’d just phoned.

      FOUR

      Thankful that he was still fully dressed except for his normal armament, Cade slung his gun belt around his waist, grabbed his jacket, hat and keys and hit the motel parking lot at a dead run. It only took him a second to program the truck’s GPS for finding Paige’s house.

      Good thing he hadn’t changed vehicles, he thought, his jaw clenching and hands gripping the wheel. He needed every bit of his familiar equipment, including the navigational system.

      Lacking a siren or flashing lights, he nevertheless made excellent time. When he rounded the corner on to her street, he knew instantly which house had to be Paige’s.

      One dwelling, halfway down the block, was lit up like a Christmas tree. Not only were there floodlights in the yard, the entire house was illuminated. Every window shone brightly, as if calling to him the way a lighthouse guided mariners.

      The female GPS voice said, “Approaching destination. Slow down and prepare to turn right in one hundred yards.”

      “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cade grumbled.

      “Fifty yards. Right turn coming up.”

      “I’m way ahead of you, lady.” He knew it was silly to argue with the nav unit but it gave him an outlet for his anxiety. He fisted the wheel and whipped into Paige’s driveway.

      There was no sign of life in the house. No human silhouettes at any of the windows.

      “Good girl,” Cade muttered. “Keep your head down.”

      He slid to a stop behind her familiar blue pickup and left his truck as he’d entered it—at a run.

      Gun ready, eyes darting to any shadows that could conceal an adversary, he sprinted up the steps onto the porch and announced himself.

      “It’s me. Jarvis. Let me in.”

      His heart remained in his throat for the long seconds before Paige opened the door a crack and peeked through the narrow slit.

      “It’s okay. I’m here,” Cade assured her. He turned his back to the doorway to face out, his pistol raised, his senses sharp. “Have you had any more trouble?”

      “No. Not since I called you.”

      “Okay. Let’s go inside and you can fill me in.”

      He didn’t holster his gun until she’d closed and latched the door, and even then he was anything but relaxed. Noting the presence of the dog at Paige’s side, he arched a brow. “Is he going to be okay with me being in here?”

      Paige nodded and managed a slight smile, laying her hand atop the animal’s broad head without having to bend over. “Yes. He’s usually a wimp, although he did try to bite the guy who came after me out