Текст книги "Wicked for You"
Автор книги: Shayla Black
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Chapter Two
Six and a half years earlier
SO cold. Mystery huddled into her blinged-out crop jacket and curled into the corner of the run-down shack. Her shoulders ached. She felt as if a furry creature had taken up residence in her mouth.
The wind howled, and she was thankful for the rickety wooden structure around her. As gusty as the weather had become, she worried the little hut—her only shelter—would blow over.
Closing her eyes, she tried to still her throbbing head. As groggy as she was, as much as sleep lured her to blissful oblivion, every time Mystery closed her eyes, she kept remembering the moments she’d walked out of the bar that she’d bribed and blustered her way into. At nineteen, she shouldn’t have been there—and she wished now that she’d gone home, as she’d promised her father. But no. A few of her friends had had luck at this swanky, A-list bar with both booze and hot guys, so she’d decided to be daring and give it a try.
Being the Marshall Mullins’s daughter had gotten her in immediately, no questions asked. No one in Hollywood hadn’t heard of the Oscar-winning actor-director. He was as famous for his epic talent as he was for his romantic exploits over the last two decades.
But the scene in the bar hadn’t been her thing. Loud. Lots of drugs and random hookups and pretty, heartless people. At just before midnight, she’d pleaded a headache and let herself outside, fishing in her purse for her car keys and thinking of things she could tell her father about where she’d been.
Mystery absolutely hadn’t been expecting the burlap hood over her head or the rough hands pulling her into a vehicle, then speeding off into the night.
She hadn’t struggled for long before she’d felt a needle in her arm. When she’d awakened, the hood had been removed. It looked like midmorning. Her purse, car keys, and cell phone were gone. She’d been handcuffed but was blessedly alone. A glance out a grungy window revealed nothing but miles and miles of desert.
It still seemed surreal that she’d been kidnapped. Did someone mean to ransom her? Rape her? Kill her? Mystery had no idea, and the not knowing sent panic skittering through her system. It was one of the few things keeping her awake.
She wished she could open her eyes and find this had been a nightmare, that she’d made different choices, that she could just run to her father’s open arms and that he’d make everything all right again. But none of that was going to happen. She’d have to find her own way out of this mess.
The door to the shack opened, and a man wearing a ski mask and head-to-toe black entered, heading straight for her. She tried to shrink back, scanning the shack for another door. Nothing.
The masked man grabbed her by her arm and hauled her roughly to her feet. Mystery thought of kicking him and running but he was twice her size. Menace rolled off him like a thundercloud. He wore some sort of assault rifle strapped over his shoulder and a hideously large knife from a sheath, attached to his belt . . . right near his hand. She shrank back. Please, God, don’t let him use either on me.
He grabbed the edges of her light jacket and shoved it down her arms.
“Don’t,” she pleaded—and hated herself for doing it. But she’d never been in danger. Hell, she’d hardly ever been out of Beverly Hills. She didn’t want to die here now. She had so much life in front of her.
And after her mother’s high-profile death, if she died violently, it would kill her father.
He didn’t acknowledge her pleading, just whirled her around until she faced the wall. “Hold still.”
A moment later, he reached for her wrists and gripped one tightly.
Mystery stared at the dilapidated wood, her thoughts racing. What was he doing? Waiting for? Did he plan on stabbing her? Strangling her?
A second later, she felt a prick at her wrist, like a needle penetrating her skin, invasive in her vein.
“No!” She couldn’t handle more drugs. Already she felt weak and shaky, vaguely sick to her stomach. Another round of that . . . The thought made her dry heave.
“Shut up!” he commanded. “Hold the fuck still.”
“What are you doing?” She wanted to struggle but didn’t dare, especially with the needle still stuck in her skin. She just wanted to get out alive, see her father again, be a normal teenager. If she could, she’d be so good, never do anything wrong again. “Stop!”
“I told you to shut up. I’m not hurting you, but if you keep flapping your mouth, it will be my pleasure.”
Mystery pressed her lips together tightly. Long, terrible seconds passed as she waited for the drowsy lethargy to overpower her again. Instead, nothing broke the terrible silence except his rough breathing. God, she hoped that holding her captive wasn’t sexually exciting him.
Finally, he withdrew the needle from her vein. He slapped something over the spot, then she heard a clanking sound, a bit like small gears grinding.
Suddenly, her arms were free. Mystery stretched them at her sides, then crossed them in front of her as she whirled to face her attacker. He’d already stepped away and now hovered by the door.
“There’s a bathroom in the next room. I left food and water in the sack on the workbench.” He nodded in the direction of the rickety table shoved against the wall. Sure enough, a paper sack sat there, bulging with what she hoped would be edible. She was starving and no doubt dehydrated. At least it seemed he didn’t mean for her to die right this instant. Later . . . she had no idea.
“The sun will be setting in the next two hours. There are over ten thousand square miles of virtually uninhabited desert all around us. It’s over ninety degrees now. It will be in the thirties tonight. I don’t think you’ll get far in stilettos, a mini dress, and that flimsy jacket. But you’re welcome to try. You might be saving me something messy in the future.”
When he turned for the door, Mystery panicked. “Wait! What do you want? Why am I here?”
He scoffed. “Now you ask, you stupid bitch . . .” He fingered the knife at his belt, silently reminding her that he held the power. “I’m just following orders. Someone wanted you here. I don’t ask questions; I just do jobs. I don’t really give a shit what happens next.”
Then he was gone, slamming the wobbly door behind him. Mystery stared out the window, watching him go. He walked away with a purposeful stride, toward an ATV. He mounted it, sent her a mocking salute, then disappeared.
The moment he rolled out of sight, she released the breath she’d been holding. Adrenaline bled out. She shook all over. What was she going to do? Her pampered life hadn’t prepared her for this. She knew how to shop, how to play hostess for a party, how to pose when the paparazzi showed up. She didn’t have a single survival skill. Did she want to run through the desert with no footwear, huddled in a coat meant purely for decoration, and carrying limited water, hoping she’d encounter a Good Samaritan? It didn’t sound like a fantastic idea. Then again, hanging around here, waiting for that asshole to come back and end her didn’t sound smart, either.
The probably slow death or the almost-certain quick one?
The quandary filled Mystery with icy-sharp dread.
She paced over to the food and ate every bite of the ham sandwich and the accompanying apple, then she downed one of her two bottles of water. God knew how long she’d been without hydration.
The sustenance helped her to think, to realize that she’d be best off to set out shortly before sunrise and walk all day, even if she’d do it barefoot, and try to find civilization. She’d hang onto this second bottle of water. It might be all she had to see her through a hot day.
She found the little bathroom next. It was tiny and disgusting and she refused to actually sit on the toilet, but it flushed. The dilapidated shower worked, but on second thought, did she really want to get naked when her captor could come back at any moment?
Then it became a waiting game. A couple of hours slid by. The sun brushed the horizon, and Mystery realized there wasn’t a single light in this little shack. She’d pass the whole night in utter darkness, unable to see if dangerous critters—or the asshole who’d taken her—sneaked up on her. The thought added a whole different layer of fear.
Just before darkness fell, the door opened again, and Mr. Ski Mask appeared.
“What?” she demanded. Had he come to kill her now? Who’s orders was he following?
“Change of plans. Boss doesn’t want you going anywhere.” He grabbed her and jabbed another needle in her arm. “Nighty night.”
The last sound she heard was his chuckle as he shut the door and the world went black.
* * *
FOR the next two days, her routine fell into exactly the same pattern. By day three, Mystery knew she’d have to break it. Her captor didn’t touch her—thank goodness for small miracles—but he liked to scare her with knives. When he’d brought her yesterday’s meal, he’d hinted that he should soon know her fate. Every attempt to question him about why he’d drawn her blood and why he was holding her hostage he countered with threats or silence. She didn’t know who was paying him or if they’d even made a ransom demand to her father. Poor Daddy had to be going insane, wondering where she was and if she was alive. She almost hated her captor as much for worrying her parent as she did for scaring the hell out of her.
Mystery watched out the window for her nemesis. He’d soon be coming with her food and hydration for the day. She’d consumed the water he’d given her and saved the bottles, refilling them in the bathroom sink. Amongst the junk in this little shack, she’d found an old duffel bag. It was small enough that she could fashion it into a backpack of sorts. She still wasn’t sure what to do about shoes—a must in the desert—but she’d rather take her chances with the elements.
Finally, as the sun began heading for the horizon, Mystery saw the asshole who kept her prisoner climb off his ATV and stroll toward the shack. With a jaunty step, he opened the door and let himself in, plunking the paper bag with her usual sandwich, fruit, and water on the table.
“Well, the boss wants to see me when I’m done here. Maybe that means our ‘special’ time together is over.” He sidled closer, leering in her direction. “If he tells me to end you, I promise I’ll give you a wild fuck before I do.”
When he cupped her breast and pinned her to the wall, Mystery screamed and struggled, kicking him. He just laughed and adjusted the bulge in his crotch before heading out and slamming the door behind him. She watched out the little window, waiting for him to straddle his ATV and roll away so she could make her final preparations to start her trek through the desert.
Suddenly, the sound of gunshots exploded through the air. Her captor froze, then ran for the ATV, rolling to the ground and using the big metal frame to shield his body. He poked his head up and aimed over the vehicle, shooting toward a target Mystery couldn’t see. More bullets flew, some ricocheting off the metal of the four-wheeler, others kicking up sand.
Someone was shooting at her captor. Who would be out here in the middle of nowhere, trying to kill him? Had his enemies hunted him down? Or was she being rescued? Her head raced. She didn’t know what to think and didn’t want to reveal her presence in the event the guys shooting now were badder than the criminal who’d taken her. Still, she had to be prepared in case they killed her captor and she was forced to walk through the desert to find civilization.
She gathered the duffel with water bottles and a canvas she’d found on the old vinyl floor yesterday, hoping the scrap of sturdy cloth could serve as footwear or covering for her head as needed, since she didn’t have any sunscreen, either.
After looping her arms through the handles, she peeked out the window to see two men in camo running toward the ATV, guns blazing. One of them ducked behind the vehicle, then inched up to shoot at her assailant at the other end of the rolling tin can. That was all the time her captor needed. He shot one of the new arrivals, and the man jolted, jerking with the impact before crumpling to the ground, unmoving.
Mystery gasped, then slapped a hand to her mouth. She doubted anyone would hear her over the wind and the din of the shots being exchanged, but if they did . . . she wouldn’t come out of this alive.
The second of the two combatants she’d seen grabbed a big rifle from his fallen comrade’s back, shoved in a new magazine, then quietly sneaked toward the front of the ATV.
Her captor obviously didn’t trust the silence. He leaned around the front of the vehicle, and when he spotted the enemy, they exchanged another hail of gunfire.
To her right, the door to the shack burst open. The wood slammed against the wall, making the whole structure shake.
Then a big, dark shadow fell across the threshold, blocking most of the sun slanting behind his huge form. Mystery shrieked and scrambled back, looking for a way to escape whatever he’d come to do to her. But she already knew from her days of captivity here that no other path to freedom existed. The shack had only two small windows, which he obstructed, and no other doors.
The huge man stepped into the beams of light streaming through the window, gripping an assault rifle, ready to shoot. A small pack hung around his beefy shoulders. A tight khaki T-shirt stretched over a powerful chest. His hair was so short, she could barely discern the color, but it was something with a golden tint, glinting under the waning sun. His sharp blue gaze zeroed in on her immediately. She shrank back.
“Don’t be afraid. We’re here to rescue you. Your father hired us.”
Jubilant relief poured through Mystery. She trembled so hard, she couldn’t quite stand steady. She’d known that Marshall Mullins wouldn’t wait for the police to rescue her. Doing nothing had never been his style. On the other hand, this man was a total stranger. Why should she believe him?
“Wh-who are you?”
“Axel Dillon. I served two tours of duty in Afghanistan and now I’m private hire. Your father contacted my CO day before yesterday. We’ve been looking for you since. Are you hurt?”
Mystery wasn’t one hundred percent sure she believed him. And she could still hear gunshots pinging outside at a furious, fatal rate.
“For fuck’s sake,” Axel roared. “Stay here and hidden. I’m going to end this son of a bitch.”
He turned around and marched out of the shack. She watched the retreat of his wide shoulders and narrow hips. Everything about him shouted that he was a soldier, just as he’d claimed. But did that mean he was her father’s soldier-for-hire? Mystery didn’t know, and after being abducted, then threatened with murder and rape, her trust was admittedly thin. Exhaustion and hunger were wreaking havoc with her logic.
She ran to the window again, watching as he raised his rifle, peered through the scope, and fired. Her captor feinted just as he pulled the trigger, but the shot still managed to hit the asshole. He slapped a hand to his side and tried to climb the hood of the ATV and scramble into the driver’s seat.
Axel’s sidekick leapt onto the vehicle and fired his handgun. Her assailant must have seen or sensed trouble coming because he rolled out, back to the hard sand, then took off on foot, heading away from the shack. He fired off a shot every few steps over his shoulder at the other man in camo.
Where did her captor think he was going? He’d said himself there was nothing but desert for miles. Had that been a lie? Or was he simply hoping to escape into the expansive landscape as night fell, then limp his way to safety?
Axel darted toward the dueling pair, but the other soldier was closer, scrambling into the driver’s seat of the vehicle so he could head off in hot pursuit of her captor.
Mystery watched, her stomach twisting. The bastard who’d ripped apart her world . . . he wouldn’t get far. She wasn’t a mean or violent person, but sudden death was too good for that thug. She kind of wanted to watch someone beat the shit out of him or drive the ATV over him again and again until the life left his body.
As the other soldier started the mini four-wheeler, it leapt forward, kicking up sand behind it. Her captor looked over his shoulder, then tried to run faster. But he was no match at all.
As if he’d figured that out, he stopped dead in his tracks and faced the oncoming vehicle as it ate up ground, on a collision course to run him over in seconds. Instead of fleeing in another direction, he reached into his pocket and withdrew something, then aimed it at the vehicle, almost like a remote control.
The ATV and Axel’s fellow soldier burst into a big orange ball of flames, instantly consumed in a conflagration. She gasped in horror.
Her captor laughed beneath his ski mask as he palmed his gun again and pointed it at Axel, now running toward the killer who had already murdered his two brothers in arms. Both Axel and her captor aimed and pulled the trigger, but the bastard who had abducted her didn’t have a weapon made for long shots. The handgun was no match for the high-powered rifle at that distance.
The asshole who had taken and tormented her jackknifed back, then fell to the ground. He didn’t move again.
Now she was alone with Axel, a man who could save her life—or end it.
She swallowed, her heart racing, her veins running with pure adrenaline, as he jogged toward the first of his fallen peers. He checked the pulse at the man’s neck, then sighed heavily and rose to his feet. Bypassing the burning remains of the ATV, he aimed his rifle at the unmoving form of her captor, cautiously approaching as he checked for signs of life. Apparently, he found none because he began searching the asshole’s pockets.
Slinging his rifle onto his back, Axel turned and made his way toward her, his gaze sharp and focused.
Mystery trembled. God, she hoped he was one of the good guys, sent by her father, as he claimed. Because if it was a lie to win her trust, he could do whatever he wanted to her out in this godforsaken desert. Cut her, rape her, strangle her . . . Snapshots of all the hideous ways he could murder her flashed through her brain. He could leave her bones to bleach out in the potent sun and walk away without anyone the wiser. This gun battle certainly had no other survivors who might rescue her—if they’d ever intended to.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. On the one hand, she realized that she was probably being overly dramatic and the odds of three men hunting down someone else’s captive to brutally murder her made very little sense. Why would he try to trick her into trusting him just for that? On the other hand, some small part of her mind realized that after everything she’d been through in the last few days, she wasn’t exactly prepared to be rational. Thoughts raced. Terror clung. She just wanted to go home, feel her father’s arms around her, get back to normalcy, which seemed a million miles away right now.
Axel turned and headed her way. She screamed.
He took off at a dead run for her. Mystery panicked and sprinted out of the shack. The wind whipped through her hair, kicking dust onto her skin. The sand felt hot on the bare soles of her feet, and she knew right away that days of being undernourished and afraid to sleep would catch up with her quickly. Axel’s pounding footsteps behind her drew closer and closer, and she felt powerless to keep him from capturing her.
It seemed as if mere seconds had passed before his arm snaked around her waist and he hauled her against his big, solid body.
“Don’t run. I’ve got you. I know you’re scared, but I’m going to save you.”
He panted against her neck, and she felt his chest rising and falling with every breath. She couldn’t seem to suck in enough air, either. Her heart beat furiously. Fear spiked her veins.
“Let me go. I just want to go home.”
“I know,” he assured, his voice surprisingly soft for someone who looked—and felt—all soldier. “I’ll take care of you. But you can’t charge through the desert without shoes. It may look dead around here, but I assure you, the land is very much alive, and you’d be no match.”
In her head, Mystery knew that. At the age of nine, she’d been with her dad on their way to Palm Springs for some celebrity event when their car had broken down. Even being stranded on the roadside for a few hours had been hot and harrowing. She’d never been so aware of the harsh elements and her inability to survive them.
Until now.
The fight left her muscles, and she nodded miserably.
Gently, Axel set her back on her feet and turned her to face him. She was almost afraid to look at him, worried she’d see cruel glee on his face just before he ended her. Instead, she saw a well of patience. He knew she’d had it tough and he empathized. The human kindness Axel showed her was the first she’d seen in seemingly forever.
Mystery burst into tears again.
“Hey. Hey!” He cupped her face and thumbed tears from her cheeks. “Shh. I know you’re on emotional overload, but we can’t do this now. Breathe with me.” He fused her gaze to his and demonstrated by dragging in a long breath, then letting it out. He did it again, waiting patiently until she followed suit.
Calm slowly made its way through her panic. With each breath and every second she looked into his eyes, she relaxed a bit more. Her mind wasn’t a constant explosion of chaos and terror.
As soon as the adrenaline dissipated, she felt incredibly weak. Her muscles no longer seemed able to support her, and she sagged against his chest.
“That’s it,” he crooned. “Nothing to be afraid of. I need some quick information, all right? Tell me if the man holding you hostage had any help? Anyone else who assisted him in keeping you captive?”
She shook her head. “H-he talked about someone who hired him, but I . . . I never saw him.”
“So it was just the two of you?”
Mystery nodded.
“Good. That gives us some breathing room. Come with me. We’ll go back to the shack and map out a plan.”
Plan? “I don’t want to go back. He kept me there. He—”
“I know.” Axel took her hand and slowly led her back to the place of her captivity.
She tried to dig in her heels, but he was far stronger. In fact, her legs gave out from under her, and without breaking stride, he bent and carried her against his chest, taking huge, ground-eating steps until the shade of the little outbuilding sheltered them again.
Gingerly, he set her on her feet, then kicked the door shut. “There. Now, another deep breath. Let’s talk this out rationally, okay?”
His deep voice soothed her. Mystery felt herself sliding slowly off the pinnacle of panic. She nodded at him.
“Listen to me. I was an army medic, sent as part of this rescue crew in case you need medical attention. But you have to be honest with me. I can’t help you to the best of my ability if you’re not. Understand?”
Again, she nodded.
“I need you to be verbal with me. We don’t have room for misunderstanding here. Say ‘Yes, Axel.’”
She swallowed and stared at a spot of smudged dirt on his T-shirt. “Yes, Axel.”
“Good. Did your captor beat you? Tie you, restrain you, or otherwise put you in any position that might have caused injury?”
“I was cuffed with my hands behind my back when he first brought me here. My shoulders ached for a bit. I’m all right now. He never struck me or restrained me again.”
Axel nodded. “Did you hurt your feet running outside barefoot just now?”
Her soles smarted, but nothing more serious than when she’d played barefoot in the backyard as a kid. “No.”
“When did you last drink water? Eat? Did he feed you regularly?”
“He gave me one meal and two bottles of water a day. I haven’t eaten yet today.”
“So he provided enough to keep you alive but not well hydrated.” Axel cursed, then let out a deep breath. “We can work with that.”
“Well, I drank the bottles then refilled them in the little bathroom sink. It’s disgusting, but I knew that if I tried to escape alone through the desert that I’d need to stay hydrated.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Good thinking. You have to use your head to survive this climate.”
She nodded, every muscle in her body weak, even those in her neck. She felt like a bobble head. Then she remembered that he wanted a verbal response. “Yes, Axel.”
“Anything else?”
“He drugged me every night so I couldn’t escape.”
Axel tensed. “Any idea what he gave you?”
“No. He injected it. It made me sleep for half the day, sometimes more.”
“Any side effects?”
It wasn’t what he said or even how he said it, but something about the tight set of his mouth told her that everything her captor had done to her had really pissed him off. That made her feel better. If he was indignant on her behalf and concerned about her health, maybe he really was one of the good guys.
“No. I mean, I’d wake up groggy, but it would wear off eventually.”
“No drug cravings?”
That hadn’t occurred to Mystery, but she was damn glad the asshole hadn’t given her anything she might become addicted to. She shook her head. “No.”
“I don’t want to hurt or scare you, but I need to give you a quick medical exam.”
She frowned. “Why wouldn’t we just call the authorities now? Get away from here and let them take me to the hospital?”
“I wish it were that simple. Let me check you over, then I’ll explain.”
There wasn’t a hospital, some police, an explanation—and her father—in her immediate future? Based on what he’d said, she didn’t think so. That filled her with anxiety again. “What do you mean, not that simple?”
“Hey, no need to worry. Let’s tackle one issue at a time. The first thing I need to know is if you’re all right.”
“I’m conscious. I’m talking. I’m walking. And I want to go home.”
“I know, Mystery. I’d love to take you there. But with my two teammates dead, that presents some complications.”
Oh, wow. She hadn’t stopped to think of that. And what must Axel be feeling, losing two people he considered his . . . what? Coworkers? Friends? To help a woman he didn’t even know. “I’m sorry. W-were you close?”
His jaw tightened and he looked away. “It’s not important right this minute. I need to focus on you.”
Her father had once starred in and directed a military film about soldiers in Vietnam in a harrowing situation, against almost impossible odds. He’d actually interviewed a bunch of soldiers at her house, and she’d eavesdropped. She remembered them talking about the necessity of compartmentalizing until they dealt with the situation that needed immediate attention. Once everything was secure and they were alone, they would deal with whatever they’d shoved to the recesses of their mind . . . hopefully. Some never did; they simply locked their grief or stress away in a mental box tightly and threw away the key. It was why things like PTSD and suicides cropped up in the military community so often. Even those who dealt with it or got help sometimes still found it too overwhelming and couldn’t cope.
“If you were close to them and you’re upset, I . . . I know you don’t know me, but I’m willing to listen and help.”
Something in his face changed. A faint surprise registered. Apparently, he was used to being the hero. Didn’t anyone ever try to save him?
“That’s very kind, but the first thing I need to do is my job. You’re my primary responsibility. The other two soldiers were both my backup and provided essential elements to the rescue. Carr, the one in the exploding ATV, was our comm officer. When everything went up in flames, so did our ability to communicate with the outside world.”
Meaning that he didn’t have a way to just call the police to come out and whisk them back to Beverly Hills? He didn’t have a way to ask her father to come get her?
“You don’t have a cell phone?”
“Sure, I do. But there isn’t a nearby town or even a highway. In terms of mobile communication, this is all a dead zone.”
“So . . . I guess we’re walking to your jeep or chopper or whatever you came here in?”
His entire body tightened as he shook his head. Mystery got the distinct impression that he was doing his best to remain calm and not show any fear. That worried her more than anything.
“Alvarez, Carr, and I came in on a HALO jump. We didn’t leave behind a vehicle in case it could be detected.”
Sure, she’d heard the word, but she had no idea what it meant. “HALO?”
“High altitude, low opening.” When she frowned at him in confusion, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “We jumped out of a plane at thirty thousand feet. A plane at that altitude mimics a jetliner. By keeping the opening low, we don’t make waves on the radar. So just in case anyone is monitoring the airspace around here, it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary.”
She’d never thought of that. It had never occurred to her they wouldn’t just drive in with a small cache of weapons and do their thing. “Oh.”
“So the downside is, we have no vehicle. And since we lost our comm gear in the explosion, we’re going to have to hike our way to civilization.”
“The asshole holding me prisoner told me we’re surrounded by miles and miles of desert.”
“We’re smack in the middle of the Mojave. This is Death Valley.”
It was some of the most unforgiving land in all of North America. She remembered learning that in school after one of her classmates in high school had gone on a camping trip with some buddies and their rock climbing equipment had given out, leaving him stranded in a ravine. He’d dehydrated in the desert in less than twenty-four hours.
She tried to swallow back panic. “Do you know the fastest way to civilization?”
“Yeah. We’re looking at a fifteen– or twenty-mile trek southwest. But we have to be prepared for the conditions of the desert and to climb a few mountains. So the first thing I need to do is to examine you.” He took her hand. “Because I’ve got to be honest. Your skin is a little clammy.” He pressed two fingers to her carotid artery. “And your pulse is a little fast and weak. I need to make sure you’re just emotionally distraught rather than going into shock because of an injury. Will you let me check you out?”
Mystery understood clearly that if she wanted to see her father and home again, she was going to have to walk her way out. “Yes, Axel.”
