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Of course he was enraged with me.
So, yeah, if the choice was him taking my life, or choosing to take my own, I would make the decision to take it in a heartbeat.
But I wasn’t giving up.
Not yet.
“Think you can try to kill me, huh?” Kyle snarled, twisting my wrist hard. There was a crunching sound and the pain shot up my arm, making a loud cry escape me.
“Lot more where that came from, bitch,” Kyle said as the pain both throbbed an burned at the same time. Broken? I hadn’t broken anything since I was a little girl, but I vaguely remembered the burning sensation and the deep ache.
Damnit.
That was one good arm down, giving him even more of an advantage over me.
The limpness in my hand and wrist seemed to make him lessen his hold, though, allowing me to yank it away as I turned and ran.
“Go on, run,” he hissed, right on my heels.
I reached out on my way, swiping something off the table, feeling the minuscule glass bottle with its cork stopper in my hand.
I took a second to slip it into my bra before I reached for the door.
That secured the poison—or, at least, I hoped it was poison—for a later use. But it also allowed him to gain on me.
I had one foot out the back door when I felt a foot slam into my back, sending me falling forward. With only one good arm to try to break my fall.
Not wanting to risk another wrist or hand break, making me completely helpless to defend myself, I didn’t put my hand out, instead letting my forearm bear the brunt of the fall.
It still managed to steal my breath, to disorient me for a precious second or two before I was shuffling up onto my knees.
Before I could get my feet back under me, though, his foot slammed into the side of my hip, sending me sprawling again, this time on my back, staring up at the dark, star-dotted sky above me.
It was too pretty a night to be kidnapped and killed.
Yeah, that was what was on my mind right then. Not trying to get to the closest bed of flowers, and grabbing some leaves, flowers, or berries to use against my attacker. Nope. Just an observation of the day.
The cooing of one of my chickens as she got ready to head to her coop for the night was what managed to snap me out of my strange train of thoughts, making me roll and scramble.
Unfortunately, though, I was closest to the vegetable garden, not one of the poison ones.
I was sure, if I tried really hard, I could kill Kyle with a carrot or one of those baseball-bat-sized zucchini. But it would likely take more force than I had available to me with my good wrist rendered useless.
I had to run.
It was the only choice left.
I was a sitting duck if I stayed. There was no protection in my home unless I could incapacitate him for long enough to get to my phone and call Crow for help.
I could see that so vividly.
His dark hair flowing behind him as he ran out of his clubhouse warehouse toward his bikes, face determined, eyes full of his demons.
And because of how the club dynamics worked, his brothers would be running out behind him.
All of them would climb on their bikes and speed in my direction.
I’d always prided myself on being a strong, self-sufficient woman. But I had to admit the thought of them coming to save the day, to slay the bad guy, yeah, it was appealing.
But that wasn’t likely going to be the case.
So I threw myself over and up onto my knees, then started to run.
I used to imagine I was in pretty good shape. I mean, running a homestead required a lot of physical labor, especially when you were doing it on your own, and had to haul water all the time.
Apparently, though, I’d been slacking on the cardio front, because my chest felt immediately tight, making it hard to pull in a proper breath as I looked off into the distance, seeing Shady Valley before me.
The bikers’ clubhouse was the closest occupied building, but even that seemed impossibly far for me with my burning lungs.
Unfortunately for me, Kyle didn’t seem to neglect this cardiovascular health as much as I did. I could practically feel him closing in on me.
He probably could have reached out for me at any point and grabbed me.
I didn’t understand why he didn’t until I saw it.
A car.
Parked.
With an open trunk.
Waiting for me.
As if reading my thoughts, like he’d been waiting for me to come to the conclusion myself after he let the fear assault my system for a while as he chased me, his hands reached out, grabbing me, and yanking me back.
