She jerked upright, but her muscles collapsed halfway and her body refused to cooperate.
The sleeper compartment blurred around her, and sunlight flashed through the windows. The truck shifted into motion beneath her.
No.
Vander wouldn’t know where she was.
She tried reaching toward the front seat. Tried speaking again. Her arm barely lifted before darkness dragged hard at the edges of her vision.
The last thing she heard was the low growl of the engine carrying her away from the man she loved.
Chapter Fifteen
For one sickening second, the auction grounds vanished.
Pope saw white tablecloths and polished silver instead of livestock pens. Crystal glasses. Diplomats laughing over dinner.
Then the man at the center of the table suddenly clawed at his throat.
The chair crashed backward.
Guests started shouting.
Pope sprinted across the room, and security and embassy staff scrambled in every direction. The diplomat collapsed, choking for air, as Pope dropped beside him, trying to keep his airway open as terrified screams echoed through the room.
And no matter what he did, the man still died.
Summer had been out of his direct view for seconds, and look what happened. The same helplessness flooded in.
With icy fingers crawling up the back of his neck, he grabbed the first security guard he saw.
“I’m with Black Heart Security. We’ve got a situation. Take me to your security hub. I need to see the camera footage right now.”
The older man shook his head grimly. “‘Cameras don’t cover most of the outer lots. Too much ground out here.”‘
Pope’s pulse slammed harder.
“There’s a few pointed at the sale barn and payment office,” the guard continued. “But once you get out toward vendor parking and the livestock trailers, there’s dead zones everywhere.”
Jesus Christ.
The lemonade stand sat near the edge of the grounds, most likely nonexistent to the cameras.
And the person who took Summer would have planned it that way.
Bile collected in Pope’s throat. Summer was missing because he’d failed to see the danger before it struck.
He met the guard’s eyes and the man flinched at what he saw on Pope’s face.
“We’ll need to see it anyway. If you see anything odd—a woman being taken against her will—hold them. And call us and the police.”
He didn’t wait for the man to respond, just took off at a jog to the parking area, head swinging side to side in search of Summer. When he reached the edge of the lot, sweat rolled down his spine beneath his shirt, but none of it came from the hottest day of the season.
His mind kept replaying the last image he had of her—Summer standing under that yellow umbrella beside the lemonade stand, smiling softly as she watched him talk to the little girl who bought Flint.
She didn’t need to give him space at that moment. She could have teased him for getting sentimental over a horse or dragged him away before he got attached to that little girl already looking at Flint like she’d found her new best friend.
Instead she’d nudged him toward them and said she’d wait by the lemonade stand.
