Page 73 of Freeing Lark

But because if they couldn’t leave, she might have more time.

She shivered. Thunder cracked overhead. Then something caught her attention. Movement. Across the water. Lark narrowed her eyes and tried to act as if she was actually looking at anything specific, just in case. She wasn’t expecting a rescue, but people knew where she’d gone. Marilyn knew. She’d be worried by now. There was a possibility she’d called Cormac to check on her. She could only hope.

Through the sheets of rain, she thought she saw something. A shape, dark against the gray water. She leaned forward, pretending to look defeated. What was that? Her heart began pounding. Then she heard something. A low mechanical sound. Almost drowned beneath the thunder. Was that a motor?

Her head snapped toward the river. There. For a second. Then nothing. Had she imagined it? She listened harder. Her brother’s stupid nickname suddenly seemed very useful. Super hearing.

There. Again. A motor. Closer this time. Lark’s heart slammed against her ribs. Someone was coming. This weather was far too harsh for someone to simply be cruising the creek for pleasure.

The men didn’t seem to notice. She turned her head toward the sound.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Gun Guy looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t dare say more.

The rain had become so heavy that Lark could barely see beyond the clearing.

She sat in the mud with her hands bound behind her, watching the men scramble to finish whatever they were loading. Gun Guy paced back and forth, barking orders over the roar of the storm.

“Move it. Get that side up. We don’t have all day.”

Lark’s attention drifted toward the river. Something had changed. At first, she thought it was another trick of the rain. Then she saw him. Cormac. He was in the water. Not in a boat. Swimming. Her heart lurched. He’d come alone. Of course he had.

He moved along the edge of the island, keeping low, using the trees and brush for cover. The rain worked in his favor, masking his movements and making it nearly impossible to distinguish him from the shadows.

Lark’s heart hammered. He’s here. Relief surged through her so strongly it almost made her cry.

But she couldn’t call out. Not yet. Cormac was almost to her. Gun Guy was facing away, still yelling at the others.

“Stop standing around and help him!”

Lark looked at Cormac. He was maybe twenty feet away. Fifteen. Ten. He moved like a shadow. Lark’s eyes met his. His finger rose to his lips. Stay quiet. She nodded.

He was almost there. Five feet. Three.

Then one of the men dropped something. The crash made everyone turn. Cormac froze. Black’s eyes narrowed. “What the⁠—”

He turned. Their gazes collided. For one heartbeat, nobody moved. Then Black shouted. “Hey!”

Gun Guy spun.

“Cormac!”

The gun came up. Cormac lunged. The first shot cracked through the storm. He ducked and drove into the gunman’s chest before he could fire again. They went down hard in the mud.

“Get him!” The other men surged forward. Lark’s heart leaped into her throat. Cormac rolled, taking a punch to the jaw. He answered with one of his own. Hard. The man stumbled backward.

Another came from the side. Cormac caught his arm and twisted, sending him crashing into the mud.

But there were too many. Lark couldn’t just sit there. Her wrists burned as she twisted and pulled, desperately trying to loosen the ties binding her hands.

Think. Think, Lark. She couldn’t fight five men. But maybe she didn’t have to. Her eyes landed on the tools they’d left scattered near the crates. A metal pry bar. Too far. A length of rope. Too far. Then she spotted a heavy flashlight lying in the mud a few feet away.

Lark rolled. Her hands were useless behind her, but her feet weren’t. She kicked toward the flashlight. Once. Missed. Again. Her heel connected. The flashlight rolled closer. She kicked again. It slid beneath the legs of the man wrestling with Cormac. He stumbled, and Cormac took advantage.

He drove his shoulder into the man’s chest and sent him sprawling.