her ragged thoughts. The sound of skin on skin. A brain-jarring slap. Or jaw-breaking punch. Every sound was amplified in the impossibly still home. Emma heard the muted thud of a collapsing body.
Then no more screaming. No more demanding growls. Just silence.
Outside, the rumble of an engine drew hope to Emma’s heart. The psychopath was leaving. Whatever condition Sara was in, at least she hadn’t been shot, and the police were on the way. Sara would be okay, and she would tell them everything so the son of a gun who did this to her would pay.
Emma crept from her hiding spot and raced to her bedroom window, confirming the empty driveway before racing back down the hallway, heart in her throat and preparing to provide triage while they awaited the first responders.
On a deep intake of air, she shored her nerve at the end of the hallway, tucked Henry tight to her chest and dared a peek into her living room.
But all that remained of her sister was a thick smear of blood on the polished wooden floor.
Sawyer Lance, former Army Ranger and cofounder of Fortress Security, reached reluctantly for the ringing phone. It was late and he was tired. Protecting civilians was harder than he’d predicted when opening the private sector security firm. Far more challenging than similar work overseas where he could at least shoot the bad guys. He tossed another pair of aspirin into his mouth before blindly raising the phone from his desk.
What would it be this time? Another punk ex-husband or boyfriend bullying the woman he claimed to love? An unhinged stranger stalking a woman who didn’t know he existed beyond the fact he harassed her anonymously with creepy unwanted gifts and the occasional break-in? “Fortress,” he answered, his voice little better than a bark. “This is Sawyer Lance.”
The long pause that followed was nearly cause for him to hang up. Instead, he rubbed his forehead, knowing sometimes frightened folks needed time to gather their thoughts.
“Fortress,” he repeated, becoming alert at the sound of soft breaths through the line. His muscles tensed. “If this is an emergency, you need to call 911 and get yourself to safety. Call me after. Police first.”
He waited.
The quiet breathing continued.
“I can contact your local authorities if you’re unable.” Sawyer pulled the phone away from his ear and checked the caller ID. “Can you tell me your...” Two little words graced the screen and nearly ripped a hole through his chest. Emma. Hart. Sawyer’s heart seized, and his lungs seemed to stop midexhale. “Emma?”
Emma Hart had been the only woman Sawyer ever imagined a future with, and a set of monsters overseas had stolen that from him. He’d been forced to say goodbye to her for the sake of a simple eight-week mission. That mission should have brought him right up to his last day in the service. Instead, it had gotten him captured and tortured. His team had gotten worse.
“You’re alive,” she said, a snare of accusation in her voice.
“Yeah.” If she wanted to call it that. He’d fought six long months to get away from his captors and back to the secluded US military base. Another two months before he was debriefed and returned stateside. More weeks before the long-overdue discharge.
“Yet, you never called,” she said.
Emma’s message had been the last one left on his cell phone before the service was disconnected. The cell contract had ended while he was overseas, trapped for months past the contract’s renewal date. He’d planned to get a new phone after the mission, after he’d returned stateside and been discharged. He’d even told himself Emma’s number would be the first one he’d call. It was one of many plans his captivity had ruined.
“No,” he answered finally, sadly.
He hadn’t returned her call for multiple reasons. Part of him knew he wasn’t ready to do normal things again, like date, or pretend he didn’t wake up in cold sweats most nights. The rest of him doubted Emma was in the market for a 180-pound sack of misplaced anger, jangled nerves and general distrust. He couldn’t make her happy anymore. She’d sounded so darn happy on that voice mail. Unlike now, he realized.
Instinct stiffened Sawyer’s spine. “What’s wrong?” Something in her voice set him on edge. She might’ve been mad at him, but there was something else there too.
“Sara’s gone,” she said, her voice breaking on the second word.
“Gone?” he repeated. His mind scrambled to make sense of the word. “How? When?”
“Tonight,” she said. “He just came in here and took her.”
Sawyer was already on his feet, gathering his things, shoving a fresh magazine into his sidearm. “Who?”
“I don’t know. She told me to hide.”
He slowed, pressing a folding knife and wallet into his pocket. “So, Sara’s alive? Just missing?”
“I don’t know if she’s alive,” Emma snapped, “but she’s not just missing. She was choked, overpowered, hit and dragged away. There’s nothing just about it.”
“Of course.” Sawyer shook his head hard, moving faster toward the exit. “I meant no disrespect. I’m only gathering facts.” He stooped to grab his go-bag and a duffel of supplies from the closet floor. “What did the police say?”
“They’re looking into it.”
Sawyer blew out a humorless half laugh. So, the police were chasing their tails and waiting for Sara to appear on their laps. “I’m glad you called. I can keep you safe.” He swung his laptop bag over one shoulder on his way out the door.
“You always talked about your plans to open Fortress Security with Wyatt,” Emma said. “I figured he’d answer the call. I hoped he’d remember me and be willing to help. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing,” he assured her.
“I know the last thing you probably want to do is see me—” her voice was strangled and tight “—but I’m scared, and I need help.”
“I’m already on the way,” Sawyer said, tossing his bags into his pickup, then climbing behind the wheel. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
He gunned the engine to life and jammed the shifter into Drive. “I’m heading your way from the office. I won’t be an hour.”
“Okay.”
He listened keenly to a few more rattling breaths.
“Sawyer?”
The quaver in her voice was a punch through his gut. “Yeah.”
“You should have called.”
