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What were they planning? How would she get away if she couldn’t even determine their plan? If she couldn’t even move?
A body reached across her to grab something from the cup holder. The carabiner clip! It had to be. She’d heard that same “clink” sound when she dropped it in there. The only definitive proof she had that someone schemed to close the sanctuary. Gone. Soon her life would be gone, too, leaving the killer to get exactly what they wanted.
Seyla was shoved forward against the steering wheel. A burning pain sliced through her side where the stun gun had contacted her skin. Had they cut or burned her? Tears leaked from her eyes.
Lord, please protect the sanctuary and my cats.
A wet warmth soaked the waistband on the left side of her shorts. Another cold wave of fear blew over her. That warm wetness, mixed with the metallic scent of blood, gave her the answer. Yet the lack of deep pain below the surface of the skin told her the cut must be superficial. Even so, their willingness to cut a person’s skin meant they wouldn’t flinch away from further harming her.
Was this the way her life was going to end?
Seyla strained her muscles, attempting to shift her body, the last vestige of hope refusing to allow her to give up. The door slammed shut next to her, and her right hand flicked in response. She tucked it beside her, hoping they hadn’t seen.
A loud creak coming from somewhere in front of the vehicle signaled they’d lifted the SUV’s hood. It slammed shut minutes later, the shudder of the reverberation inducing only the slightest flinch in her body. They returned to hover beside her again, fiddling with her keys. The engine sprang to life, and the bag was yanked off, taking several strands of hair with it. She strained to lift her head in order to look around, but her neckmuscles wouldn’t move enough. They positioned her foot on the gas pedal and shoved her foot down.
Seyla suddenly understood once the SUV jerked forward and the door slammed. They wanted her death to resemble a suicide or an accident. However, there weren’t any cliffs nearby. Where were they—
A painful jolt shuddered through her body at the same instant she heard the crash of water against the SUV. The pond! They were pushing her into the pond! Her stomach bottomed out. She struggled to coax her leaden limbs to move as the whir of a quad kicking on and driving off carried over the air. Cold water rushed through the window, soaking her clothes, swamping her tennis shoes. Her right arm began to comply. Too late. The water was rising too fast. She wouldn’t escape in time.
Her family, friends, and coworkers would think she’d abandoned the sanctuary. Taken the easy way out instead of fighting for the animals’ future.
No!
Seyla focused on moving her right arm, managing to get the seat belt unfastened. Her left arm jerked back to life, and she lifted her head with it to see. Her heartbeat flat lined at the sight of the vehicle half-submerged in the pond, the water level swiftly rising against the windshield. Water gushed through the window, eager to drown her. She had no choice other than to focus on getting her legs to work while water filled the SUV. Seyla stuffed down panic as the water surrounded her, waiting for it to cut off her air supply, fearing the moment it did.
Could she make it?
Or would she be dragged to the bottom of the pond with the heavy chunk of metal?
Her body shook, the cold sapping the small bit of strength she’d regained.
Help me, Lord.
Seyla thought of her friends and family, their reaction to the idea that she’d killed herself, and the pain it would cause. Then Jax’s face swam before her once the water neared her chin. Would he believe she’d committed suicide? Would he blame himself after the news article? Fresh pain ripped through her. She didn’t want him to suffer that way. She wanted to go to him. To tell him…what? Not that she hadn’t killed herself. No. The raw truth stood bare-faced in front of her now that life would soon leave her body. She’d fallen for him all over again.
Too bad that knowledge came too late.
She no longer felt the cut on her side, a sign that the skin had cooled to the point of numbness.
When the water reached her mouth, she strained upward. Her legs became a bulky hindrance encased in lead. Soon the murky pond water would surround her, cutting off her oxygen. She slapped both hands on her thighs as hard as the weakened muscles would allow, fighting to wake them in order to swim to the surface. A miniscule twitch, but it wasn’t enough.
The water closed over her nose. Seyla pushed up off the seat with her arms, filled her lungs with oxygen until her ribs ached, and dropped back onto the seat. Icy fingers of water inched up the sides of her head until they merged in the middle to close over her, wrapping her in what promised to be a watery grave. The icy liquid pressed against her eyelids. She pried them open but couldn’t see anything. Fear threatened to drown her faster than the water itself. That fear spurred her muscles to move. Her legs shifted a few millimeters.
Seyla grabbed hold of the window frame, the feel of glass slicing her hands barely registering in her state of panic. She pulled hard. Moved an inch. The need for oxygen burned her lungs. She pulled again with what strength she had left. Her body drifted through the window, then floundered, dragging her downward toward the bottom of the pond.
/////
“I’m sorry, Jax.”
Jax let his mother’s words slide over him, testing how they made him feel. Empty. “I have nothing to say to you. Please stop calling me.” He punched the end call button on his phone.
He’d only answered the call because he’d hoped to hear from Seyla. She hadn’t stopped at his uncle’s house for lunch or been at her apartment. Sure, she had a right to her privacy. Yet he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling slithering through him. The one that signaled danger to a trained soldier.
Where was she?
He called the sanctuary. Ada leaped at the chance to complain to him that Seyla hadn’t returned yet. Not only that, but she’d missed an important meeting as well. The information raised another red flag in his mind. Jax jogged down her steps and slung his body into the truck.
Should he have spoken to his mother? Forgiven her? No. She’d used him and then discarded him. Over stuff. Moldy, unusable stuff. Jax slid his hands over the bottom of the steering wheel, tightening their grip until his knuckles whitened, wrestling without success against the feeling of guilt creeping over him. It mixed with the uneasiness of not being able to locate Seyla, leaving him feeling a bit desperate and agitated. While it wasn’t his place to keep tabs on her, he considered it his place to protect her from danger until they uncovered who kept targeting her. And right now, something seemed wrong. Flat-out wrong.
