The dog pulled at his leash, going every way except my tree. The guy kept cursing and yanking him back, until Richter waved his hand and the guy stepped away. I swore I heard a “Thank God” come from him.
“Heather.”
Richter was back at it. I wanted to say something snappy, but I wasn’t feeling it. I was saving my strength. I needed to muster enough sass for my last line, and just thinking about it made me smile. Here came some of that strength again, like a small trickle.
“Come down from there.”
“Wait.” One of his guys jerked forward. “What if she falls?”
Richter paused, then shrugged. “We catch her?”
Another guy asked, “What if we don’t catch her?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Richter barked, glaring.
The two lowered their heads, and the others fell in line.
“Heather! Get down from there before you slip and fall. If you die, well, that will suck for everyone at hand. Just…” He softened. “Come down. Please.”
Oooh. Please. He was really trying to turn it on.
I tried to speak, but only a rasping sound came out. Coughing, I cleared my throat enough to hoarsely call back, “Only if you get on your knees, Richter.”
“Heather.” A warning growl.
My phone beeped, and I saw the texts coming through, one after another.
Channing: We’re coming.
Channing: Hold on.
Channing: Woman, I love you. Don’t do anything stupid.
Too late.
Rebecca: The cavalry is assembled. We’re riding your way.
I groaned.
Channing: Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?
Whoa. He really was worried. An ambulance usually meant cops, and we didn’t do cops here.
Me: No. Just come.
I pushed send, then rethought it and sent another one.
Me: Maybe a lift? I’m in a tree.
I was about to be rescued, and that thought had my ovaries on hyperdrive.
Richter was still trying to get me down. I must’ve tuned him out, but I could hear him rambling on about something, sounding more and more mad.
“Heather!”
I heard that from him a few more times before I figured it was time to say my piece.
“Richter,” I called down.
He quieted and stepped closer to the tree, his head at a ninety-degree angle with his body. “What?”
I smiled. “I just called in backup.”
His eyes went flat. “What?” His nostrils flared. “You don’t have a phone.”
One of the guys swore. “She dropped it. I swear.”
I shook my head, laughing like a maniac. “That wasn’t my phone. I was returning it to someone when they snatched me. I’ve had my phone this whole time.” I paused, savoring this. “The cavalry is coming. They’re on their way now.”
“I don’t believe you. There’s no cell signal out here.”
I took my phone out and waved it, just a tiny bit. “You’re right, unless you’re up here.” I pointed toward an opening in the tree line. “And you know there’s a tower not far.”
He stared at me.
I stared back, felt myself leaning backward, and jerked forward again.
He smiled. “I don’t believe you. I’m calling your bluff.”
At that moment, two guys rushed in with large bags over their shoulders. He waved at them. “Do you know what that is?” The guys unzipped the bags and pulled out climbing ropes.
My heart sank.
“That’s the end of this stupidity. They’re coming up to get you.”
“It’s too late,” I yelled. “I really do have a signal.” To prove it, I clicked on the sound and dialed. It took a second. I held the phone in the air. Richter smirked at me, and those two guys were really moving fast. They had grips and everything.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
They’d get to me before Channing.
And then, my phone started ringing.
That smirk moved from his face to mine. “Better go, because I told them to bring an ambulance.”
He paused, then came to a decision. “Move faster, guys!”
My heart was officially in my feet now.
Channing wouldn’t get here in time.
I had to move, and looking up, I decided I’d have to go higher.
“Heather, don’t you dare. Don’t!”
My decision was made. He wasn’t the only moron here.
“Suck my dick,” I growled as I prepared to move.
I was going to die.
43
Channing
Heather walking down the side of the gravel road, covered in blood from head to toe, was not a sight I expected to see. I almost hit the brakes, thinking she was an apparition, then hit the gas pedal.
Richter was going to die.
I didn’t care the consequences. He was going to hurt, over and over again, before he fell six feet under.
“Holy shit!” Brandon exclaimed before a hush came over the vehicle.
We were one of eight trucks, all full, all ready to battle. And yes, I’d brought her brother to a crew fight.
As we got closer, Heather came into focus. She was covered in so much—I saw fresh blood, dried blood. Dirt. Mud. She looked like something coming out of the swamp.
I slammed to a stop a few yards away from her. I didn’t want more dirt to spew at her, and I didn’t trust myself to go slowly, so I parked and was out the door the next instant.
I felt Brandon hot on my heels, and I was ready to tear him up if he grabbed her too roughly.
She limped toward us, her clothes torn and her jean jacket hanging from her hand, dragging on the ground behind her.
As we got to her, we both reined ourselves in, but she kept limping forward. One hop, a half drag, a second hop, the other foot behind her, the jacket last. There was a glaze in her eyes, but I saw fire underneath, and I could’ve pissed myself in relief.
She was fine.
I knew it.
She was furious. She was hurting, but she had the same fire she’d had before. If anything, it was rooted even deeper, and as she met my gaze, her top lip curved up.
She stopped, her eyes boring into mine, and she said, “I am going to take a hammer to Richter’s knees. Both of them. One at a time. I’m going to knock them out. Then I’m going to take the hammer to his dick. After that, I’ll start knocking out pieces of his limbs. His elbows. His throat. His fingers. His toes. I’ll rip off his balls last and make him eat them. He’ll throw them up, and I’ll make him swallow them all over again.”
Her fire wasn’t stamped down. It was a full blaze, and it was simmering over.
She dropped her jean jacket to the ground. “I am going to kill him. Slowly. With as much torture as possible, and I’m going to enjoy every goddamn second I hear his screams.”
Brandon moved back a step. He coughed out. “Well, then…”
Oh yeah. Heather was just fine.
I began nodding, slowly, and edged closer to her. “Other than that, are you okay?”
She didn’t answer, just stared at me.
She was an animal right now. Feral. Dangerous.
I wasn’t the only one sensing it. Brandon grew quiet, letting me take over. The others got out of their vehicles. The doors slammed shut, but as they got to us, an eerie hush came over them. They stopped short, and soon, we could hear a bird calling from a mile away.
No one said a word. We were waiting for Heather.
“Heather?” Concern crept up in me. I wanted to touch her, but not if it was going to hurt her. Still, I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and touched her elbow, just gently.