Page 72 of Freeing Lark

But underneath the fear was something else. Anger. Alot of it.

She was angry at herself for coming here. Angry at the men who had invaded her island. Angry that they’d broken into her store and destroyed so much precious artwork. Angry that they’d disturbed the place she’d chosen for her bell.

And, irrationally, she was angry at the weather. Because apparently the universe had decided she hadn’t suffered quite enough. The first crack of thunder rolled across the river. Then the sky opened. Rain came down in sheets.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” one of the men shouted.

The man behind Lark swore. “Keep working!” he barked.

The clearing suddenly became chaos. Lark stumbled as she was dragged forward, trying to keep her footing in the rapidly turning mud. She counted them again. Five. The man with the gun. Shorty, as she’d privately dubbed the shortest of them. A man dressed entirely in black. Another who was sweating so profusely that he’d looked uncomfortable even before the rain started. And a dark-skinned man who seemed to be doing most of the heavy lifting.

Five. She was doomed. There was no way she was slipping away from five men. Especially five men who were armed.

Within minutes, they were soaked through. Rain streamed down Lark’s face and into her eyes. Her hair plastered itself against her cheeks. Her clothes clung to her skin. She couldn’t tell if she was shivering from the cold or fear.

Probably both.

“Get something to tie her with.” The sweating one looked around and spotted a plastic case among the supplies. He kicked it open. “Zip ties.” He grabbed several and threw them toward the man in black. “You do it.”

Black caught them. “Hands behind her?”

“Obviously,” the one standing over her answered. He apparently was the boss among the five of them.

Lark’s stomach dropped.

“Wait—” The man grabbed her wrists. “Don’t.” She fought him. It did absolutely no good. He twisted her arms behind her back and cinched the plastic around her wrists. Hard. Pain shot through her hands. “Ow!”

“Hold still.”

“You’re a charming bunch.”

He yanked the ties tighter. Lark bit back another cry. Of course he’d tied her hands behind her. She’d seen videos about breaking zip ties. She’d even watched a couple of tutorials once, mostly because she had a terrible habit of falling down internet rabbit holes.

But knowing something theoretically and doing it while terrified, soaked, surrounded by five men, and sitting in the mud were two very different things.

Besides... what would she do if she got free? She’d still have five men to contend with.

Wonderful.

Black shoved her down. Lark landed hard in the mud. Cold water immediately seeped through her clothes. “Hey!” He ignored her. She glared at his retreating back. “Asshole.”

Gun Guy stood over her. “Shut up.”

“Charming and eloquent.” He raised the gun slightly. Lark wisely stopped talking. For the moment.

The men returned to their work. Whatever they were moving was heavy. They struggled with it as the rain intensified.

“Come on!”

“Lift.”

“Get it in there.”

They were rushing now. Lark understood why. The river was changing. She could see it from where she sat. Typically, Bell Creek flowed in a wide and unhurried manner, behaving more like a river than a creek, and rapids were an infrequent feature, found only in a small number of places.

Not now. The surface churned beneath the relentless rain. Water rushed past faster and faster, carrying branches and other debris with it. The men seemed oblivious. Or perhaps they were simply too focused on getting off the island. Lark wasn’t sure a boat could safely navigate that water anymore.

She hoped they tried. Not because she wanted them to drown. Well... maybe a little.