“Did you get rid of her?” The menace in Boss Man’s voice skated down her back like sharp fingernails.
The murderer shifted on his feet, and his partner glared at him before answering. “No. She got away.”
Boss Man shook his head in disappointment, and both men fidgeted in unease. “Find her. Whatever it takes. If you don’t, only the wolves will know where your carcasses lie.”
Davis pulled on Sunny’s arm, yanking her away from the bushes.
“Follow close,” he whispered in her ear. “Quietly.”
She swallowed the fear building in her throat, threatening to choke her, and crawled toward escape. When they’d gotten out of view, Davis tapped her shoulder and rushed to the left. She followed, grief and terror battling to pull her focus. She stumbled into Davis’s back when he stopped on the backside of a wall tent pitched in a small clearing.
“I’m going to grab some gear.” He shrugged off her pack and helped her put it on like a child. “Stay here. Be ready to run.”
She nodded, embarrassed that she couldn’t seem to function beyond that. Davis buckled the strap around her waist, and, when her fingers fumbled with the chest strap, he clicked that closed as well. She grabbed at his fingers, her entire body shaking.
“Hey.” He lifted her fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. “Trust me.”
Her eyebrows drew together.
“Please.” He closed his eyes for a second before piercing her with his determined, storm-gray gaze. “I’m not going to let them hurt you.”
She swallowed and nodded. He was here. She wasn’t in this alone.
“I’ll be right back. Thirty seconds or less.” Davis squeezed her fingers one last time and turned to the tent.
Her pulse increased as he undid the zipper in the middle of the tent’s back panel, to the point she wanted to yank him to her and tell him to stop. She scanned the brush, waiting for the men to jump out. She was an idiot to think she ever compared to her siblings. All of this had her well and truly freaked out.
“Get it together, Rebel,” Sunny whispered to herself, as Davis ducked into the tent.
She bit her bottom lip hard to gain control of her fear. When that didn’t work to focus, she counted. When she reached fifteen, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered what little calm she’d gained. Davis hadn’t had enough time.
Would he hear the man coming?
Should she warn him somehow?
The footsteps stopped, and a voice lifted from the other side of the tent. “What the—”
She reached her trembling fingers for the canvas just as Davis ducked out of the tent.
“Hey! We might have another problem.” The man on the other side hollered back toward the cabin, and Davis quietly pulled the tent zipper closed
She wanted to throw her arms around Davis, but he signaled her to move through the willows. Not hesitating, she rushed quietly through the trees with at least enough sense to avoid the mud. Shouts rang from behind, and she pushed herself harder, desperate to get as far away as possible.