He’d hurt her irreparably, thereby destroying any concern she’d felt toward him. She no longer wished to help him. She wanted to forget the last ten years and just go home.
Dropping the lantern, she centered all her energy on dragging her legs beneath her to stand. It required more strength than she had, but she did it. Eyes on the truck, she swayed, floundered, and slowly staggered forward.
The passenger-side door opened, and she realized he wasn’t alone.
A man stepped out.
No, he was shoved.
His hands waved around as he yelled, trying to right his balance.
What was he saying? Who was he? Why was he shirtless? She couldn’t see his face at this distance, but he sounded pissed off.
She quickened her tottering steps, picking over rocks and slanted earth. It was all she could do to remain upright.
“Tommy.” She tried to raise her voice. “Tommy!”
Goddammit, she needed help. It was too far to walk. She’d never make it.
The man shouted something and charged toward the truck.
A shot fired, and she faltered.
More shots followed, each pelleting the sand around the man’s feet. He reeled backward, dancing around the bullets and screaming.
Tommy shot at him twice more, deliberately missing. Then he yanked the door shut and spun the truck around, facing in the direction he’d come.
“No! Wait!” She shrieked at the top of her lungs, pushing her legs faster, trying to close the distance. “Don’t you fucking leave me! Please! I’m begging you!”
He drove off, taking his time around the ruts in the ground, knowing she’d never catch up.
Bursts of dizzying light blotted her vision, smeared with tears and the unshakable pain behind her eyes. Her knees gave out, hitting the ground with crushing agony. She collapsed, catching herself on elbows and fists.
He was gone.
And he’d left her with a stranger whose life meant as little to him as hers.
The man charged toward her, his hands balled at his sides and his unrecognizable face twisted in a snarl.
“How do you know that crazy motherfucker?” He stopped beside her, kicking up dust in her eyes.
“Do you have water?” She coughed, her throat so sore it felt as though it were bleeding. “Anything to drink?”
“Yeah, I’m carrying a jug in my back pocket.” He spat a wad of saliva next to his leather loafers. “No, I don’t fucking have water. He stripped me down and took everything, including my goddamn shirt.”
“No food? Nothing?”
He huffed and gripped the back of his neck, looking around.
They were both dead.
Her stomach clamped around a gnawing knot, and she rolled to her back, staring up at him through a blur of pain.
Blood trickled from the tight black curls that covered his head. More rivers of red ran from gashes around his eyes, mouth, and bare chest. Suit pants clung to his legs, smudged with dust and ripped at the knee.
“How do you know him?” She pushed herself to a sitting position, woozy and unsteady.
“I don’t.”
“Then why did he beat you up and leave you in the desert?”
His eyes crinkled, squinting as he studied her. “Something doesn’t add up.”
She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but Tommy didn’t throw punches without reason. This man must’ve threatened him, trespassed on his property, or endangered his friends. Whoever the man was, Tommy considered him an enemy, just like her.
He was average size and build, if not a little stocky and soft around the middle. A few years younger than her. Maybe late-thirties. His eyes sat a bit too far apart, but most women would probably find his looks adequate.
She found him completely unfamiliar. “You seem to know me, but I don’t know you.”
“Where are we?” He spun around, scanning the desert in all directions. “Which way is out?”
“You tell me. You just rode in from somewhere.”
“He tied my hands and blindfolded me. He removed that shit right before he kicked me out of the truck.” His tongue darted out, licking the blood on his lip. “How did you locate the tracker?”
“What?”
“The tracking device on your truck. Did you know it was there? Or did he find it?”
“Why is there a tracker on my truck?” Her heart rate hit a breakneck speed, thudding in her throat. “Who put it there?”
What had she gotten herself into? Tommy didn’t even know she existed a week ago. How would he have been able to find her and arrange to have her tracked?
He wouldn’t. But he’d know how to spot that sort of device if he was looking for it.
“You put it there.” Suddenly wary, she crab-walked backward and scrambled to her feet. “Why? Who the fuck are you?”
“You have no idea, do you?” He clicked his tongue. “Fucking clueless.”
“Start talking.” She shoved back her shoulders, and the world spun. She braced her legs, and they buckled out from under her, sending her back to the ground with her cheek in the sand. “Fuck!”