Gard couldn’t see in the dark, but he felt down her arms then gently turned her in place so he could try to untie the knots even in the dark. His hands fumbled on the ties. Lia hadn’t come out of that house yet, and he had to get to her, but Sammy needed to get out of here. Fully out of here.
Surely Lia would come out with the other group of people. She wasn’t just going to stick around in a fire.
Unless.
Gard shoved thatunlessaway and focused on untying Sammy.
He heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Careful footsteps. Gard let out a low whistle, a signal to Royal or Zeke if it was them. He couldn’t see in the dark, but he knew it was them when they nearly silently entered the thicket of bushes.
“One of you get me a light, the other hide it as best you can. I have to get her untied.”
Some shuffling and then the light of one of their phones clicked on at a very low setting, but enough Gard could see the knots and fully untie them.
“Gard, Lia is still in there. With him,” Sammy said. Her voice was scratchy but she sounded more determined than scared. “She set the fire to get me out. But she wouldn’t come with me. She stayed there. Withhim.”
Gard looked at the house. People milled in the yard now. Some laughed. Some shouted. The fire had grown in intensity but was still relegated to the backside of the house. He searched thecrowd again. Even though it was shadowy, he thought he’d be able to recognize Lia.
She wasn’t among them, or she’d be separating herself. She’d be trying to find them. She’d be doingsomething.
“Still in there with who?” Gard asked.
“I don’t know. Mom knows. He’s the guy who hurt her. He hit Mom so hard and…” Sammy started to sob again.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve almost got it.” He fumbled a little more, but finally got the knots undone so Sammy’s hands fell to her sides. He pulled her into a hug, tight and close. Relief coursed through him, twined with the continued worry for Lia.
Lia. He had to get her out of there. But first… Sammy…
“Could you guys get in the back of the house?” Gard asked Royal and Zeke in low tones.
“No. Cut through the overgrowth on the door just fine, but the fire started right there by the door. Blocking any entrance or exit from the back. We could see in the kitchen window—the fire is basicallyonthe door.”
Gard swore inwardly, rubbing his hands up and down Sammy’s arms to try and keep her warm. He wished he had a coat for her, but he didn’t have anything. He’d need Royal and Zeke to take her to the truck, and Gard would go find Lia and—
“Gard, like I said, we could see through a window,” Royal said carefully. Too carefully. “A guy was…holding Lia in the kitchen. Right by the fire.”
Gard’s grip on Sammy tightened for a second before he forced himself to relax his hands. It was his only outward reaction. Inwardly, he didn’t let himself have a reaction either. He just relied on his training. He knew how to deal with danger, emergencies, threats.
He’d deal with this one.
He crouched a little so he could be eye level with Sammy. “I need you to go with Deputy Campbell, okay? He’s a police officerand a good friend of mine. You do what he says. You can trust him. I promise.” He moved her toward Royal. “Get her out of here. I’m going to go get Lia.”
“But…”
The protests came from SammyandRoyal, but Gard ignored them. “It’s all right. Everything is going to be okay.”
Trusting Royal to take care of Sammy, Gard stepped out of the bushes and headed for the house.
Because he was damn well going to make sure of it.
Lia struggled againstthe too-tight grip on her throat. Every once in a while, she managed to take in a breath when Bruiser’s grip loosened a little bit.
But mostly she wasn’t getting nearly enough oxygen, which made panic scatter through her. The panic was making her sloppy as Bruiser dragged her back toward the fire.
He’d ordered everyone else outside, so it was just him and her now. And the fire he was dragging her toward.
“You want to ruin my place?” he demanded. “You’ll get ruined in return.”
She tried to pull against his grip on her throat, dig her heels in so he couldn’t keep dragging her forward. There’d been a time when she’d known how to fight back—or if not fight back, mitigate the painful results. Seven years of safety had made her soft. Panic was dulling her instincts.
