every second counted.
Shaw had already lost his wife, and by God he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to his baby.
Sabrina forced herself to stay calm.
It was nearly impossible to do that because there was a gun jammed against her head, and one of the ski-mask-wearing kidnappers shoved her into the backseat of an SUV. The other got behind the wheel and sped out of the parking lot.
There were plenty of officers nearby, all with guns aimed, but none of them fired a shot. Probably because they hadn’t wanted to risk wounding her and the baby. Sabrina was thankful for that, but she wondered if she’d just gone from the frying pan into the fire.
Her heart was racing, and it was so loud in her ears that it was hard for her to hear, but she thought she might have heard one of the officers shout. Maybe that meant someone would follow them because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get herself out of this without help.
She glanced behind her at the hospital. The building was engulfed in milky gray smoke, but she could still see even more cops. Some armed with rifles were on top of the surrounding buildings.
Shaw was out there, too.
Sabrina had seen him from the window. He’d been standing among all the officers assembled to respond to the hostage situation. And even though Shaw had been so far away when she stepped into view, she had been able to make out his expression when he realized she was a hostage. That wasn’t fear on his face. More like anger.
Or even disgust.
He was probably thinking she’d screwed up again. And in a way, she had.
The gunman-driver made a sharp left turn and sent her sliding toward the door. Her captor hauled her right back so he could keep her in a close, firm grip against his side. She wanted to punch him for what he was doing.
For what he’d done back at the hospital.
Sabrina had seen him shoot an unarmed lab tech who was hardly more than a kid. He’d used a gun rigged with a silencer for that deadly assault, and the shot had hardly made a sound. It made her wonder how many others had been killed in a silent hush.
And why?
Why would be the biggest question of all.
Was it connected to the call from the nurse, Michael Frost, that she’d gotten earlier? The call that sent her to the hospital in the first place?
Maybe.
But for now, her focus had to be on survival. The cops were no doubt following them, and she had to believe they would launch a rescue. She also had to believe they would succeed. Sabrina couldn’t even consider an alterative, not with her baby’s safety at stake.
She looked up at the street signs, trying to memorize them just in case she got the opportunity to tell someone where she was, but the gunman must have noticed what she was doing because he shoved her down onto the seat.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he snarled. He stank of sweat, onion chips from the hospital vending machine and the peppermint breath mints that he’d sucked on throughout the standoff.
Sabrina would remember that sickening scent. That raspy voice. Those dull brown eyes that were flat, like a man on the job rather than one on a personal mission.
He was almost certainly a hired killer.
And when this was over, she would make sure he and his partner were punished for this havoc they had caused. All those women and babies had been put through a nightmare, and it wasn’t over. Not for her, not for them. They would have to deal with the terrifying memories forever.
Something that Sabrina already knew too much about.
“We lost the cops,” the driver announced.
That didn’t help with the fear or the dread. But he could be wrong. He had to be wrong.
The driver slowed to a crawl, and several seconds later, the car came to a stop. In a dark alley.
Oh, God.
Sabrina tried not to think of what could happen here. She didn’t think these men had rape or assault on their minds, but they wouldn’t hesitate to use her as a human shield when the cops arrived.
“Move fast,” the gunman ordered, and he threw open the door and pushed her out into the alley.
“Right,” she grumbled. Fast wasn’t possible for her these days.
She didn’t see any other cars or people. Definitely no cops. And her heartbeat grew significantly harder and faster. God. Had the driver been right about SAPD not being able to follow her? Had the gunmen made a clean getaway?
The gunman latched on to her arm and dragged her into the adjacent building. It was dark, musky and hot. No AC. Not even a trickle of fresh air. No furniture, either. From what Sabrina could see in the shadows, it was an abandoned office building, and judging from the distance they’d driven, they were somewhere in the downtown area of San Antonio. Not a good part, either.
“Lock the door,” the gunman told his partner. “I’ll tie her up. But don’t make the call until you’re out of her earshot. No sense broadcasting what’s going on.”
The man didn’t take her to a room near the door but to one about midway down the long tiled corridor. He shoved his gun into the back waist of his pants so he could use both hands to snag her wrists.
Sabrina knew what was coming.
She’d already seen him tie up members of the hospital staff and some of the patients. He took two thin plastic handcuffs from his pocket and looped one around her wrists. The other, he hooked through the first so that it chained her to the doorknob. The plastic cuffs might be cheap, but they were extremely effective. They would hold her in place until … but Sabrina didn’t want to think beyond that.
She would get out of this before they managed to take her out of the city and to God knows where. She needed a miracle.
The man reached down and pulled off her sandals. “In case you figure out how to get out of those cuffs, there’s broken glass on the floor. It’ll slice your feet to shreds,” he snarled and went down the hall with her shoes dangling in his hand.
Being shoeless wouldn’t stop her, either. Sabrina looked around the dark room, praying there was something she could use to cut the tough plastic. Maybe a piece of the glass he’d mentioned. It was there, all right. Beer bottles had been shattered, but none of the pieces was close enough for her to reach.
There were only threads of light coming from the single window on the center wall. The glass panes were coated with grime and taped yellowing newspapers that practically blocked off illumination from the nearby streetlights. But it allowed her to see just enough to realize there was nothing she could use as a cutter. With the exception of the broken glass and some trash on the floor, the room was empty.
Inside her, the baby began
