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The lights finally vanished, the voices back inside the building, and Fraser hammered Ned’s shoulder, the “move out” signal.
Ned sprinted for the corridor out to the street.
Free—with the computer, but shoot, he hadn’t gotten the cell—
“Stop!”
The voice lifted from the opening of the tunnel, and a man stepped out, outlined by the light of the sidewalk. He lifted his hand. A weapon? Ned couldn’t tell.
“Stop running.”
Not on his life. He didn’t spare Fraser a look as he lowered his shoulder and headed toward the man.
* * *
Oh,Shae and her big ideas were going to get herself—and maybe the man she loved—killed.
Stick around in Switzerland, go hiking, make friends—yep, great ideas, Shae. Brilliant.
Shae sat on the big king-sized bed, her knees drawn up, her arms around them, staring at the dawn as it swept through the thick forest surrounding her prison, listening to the last fight she’d had with Ned.
“You’re just so…”
“Naïve? Stupid?”
“Independent!”
All of it, probably, and that was the problem.
And now she had no one to rescue her but herself. Because there was no way Ned would track her down in Nowheresville, Russia—she thought maybe it might be northern Russia. They’d driven her over the border from what she thought was Finland, given the close proximity to Russia. And she’d only figured that out from the speech of the border guards who’d apparently thought nothing of a couple thugs toting a clearly distressed foreign girl in the back seat.
Welcome to the Motherland.
Never in her wildest dreams…Oh, Ned, I’m sorry!It was her only thought as they drove another two hours along bumpy roads until they reached the remote estate.
She’d gotten a good look at the place when they removed her hood right before they pulled her from the car. Not like she had a clue how to find civilization from here. But maybe the hood was just to keep her brain churning over the memory of some Russian thug—she’d named him Vlad—running his knife across the throat of her, well, former friend turned kidnapper, Dana Munson.
Yeah, that had turned her cold—and that was saying something, because her bones had sort of frozen over, and she’d really stopped feeling anything when said friend had come up behind her in Lausanne, Switzerland, and forced her into a car.
And when she’d yelled—fought, really—he’d held her down while a female—Shae remembered her as Janna, a girl she’d met while hiking—had jabbed her with some sort of knockout drug.
She’d woken locked in a bedroom—four stories up and in another country, given the big blue ocean she’d spotted through the buildings. Over the past two weeks, Dana had turned downright unfriendly, especially after she’d kicked him while he delivered oatmeal early on. And once, she’d attempted a run for the door, but he’d grabbed her and not-so-nicely threatened her with damage should she try it again.
She’d tried it again.
Her jaw still hurt. So she hadn’t been that sad when, one day, the scuffle outside the room made her break free of her room just in time to see Dana hit the floor.
Not fast enough to get away from Vlad, though.
Yet. Because shewasgoing to escape. She just hadn’t quite worked out how.
The place reminded her of old stories of the Czar and his family, the house old and ornate, with a parquet floor inlaid with different types of wood, and soaring ceilings with ornaments from which hung grand, dusty chandeliers.
Her room came with a creamy pink-and-brown Turkish carpet, a king-sized bed in a tall frame, thick brocade curtains, and a television on the wall, turned perpetually to a Russian music channel. She’d finally figured out how to mute it with a button on the bottom.
Attached to the room, a bathroom tiled in pink with a deep soaking tub suggested the room had been designed for a daughter, or maybe a wife, although she found it creepy that the window had been nailed shut—and not recently, given the paint covering the bent nails.
Said window looked out onto the back of the house—nothing but snow between herself and the bramble of spooky forest. In fact, bushy evergreen and tall birch cordoned the entire perimeter, blocking off any escape path away from the estate.
