She kicked and screamed, and her foot connected with his groin.
Doubled over, he tightened his grip around her midsection as he took a few deep breaths to stave off blinding pain and nausea.
He’d almost felt sorry for her when she was stumbling over her words, trying to distract him so she could bolt. But experience had taught him innocent people didn’t try to run.
* * *
“BE STILL,” Dylan bit out curtly. His thick arms were like vise grips around her hips, and it was impossible not to notice the solid wall that was Dylan flush against her bottom. She couldn’t blame him for his words coming out harshly after she’d kicked him in the groin.
If she could loosen his grip, she might be able to break free and run. No matter how much she wanted to confide in Dylan, she couldn’t. The Mason Ridge Abductor had returned, attacked her in the parking lot of her office, and then her father had disappeared after confirming as much and telling her not to try to find him. He’d told her to hide and stay hidden until he could sort this mess out that had begun fifteen years ago. And even though Dylan didn’t know it, she was saving him, too. He didn’t need to get involved and she’d said too much already.
The door was so close. She stretched her fingers toward it. Too far.
Drawing from all her strength, she tensed her body and then jabbed her elbow into Dylan’s midsection. If he could find her, so could Kramer, and her father had said the Mason Ridge Abductor would use her to force him out of hiding.
On some level, she knew Kramer was a pile of ashes, but someone could be using his name to hide behind.
Dylan coughed, ground out a few choice words and then spun her around to face him. His fingers gripped the flesh on her shoulders tightly.
She couldn’t budge. He’d made sure of it.
“Make another move and I’ll ensure you regret it.” He’d bent down to her level. Penetrating clear green eyes glared at her.
This close, his face was all sharp angles and hard planes, with a severe jawline on a squared jaw, intelligent eyes. Good-looking didn’t begin to describe his features. He wasn’t a pretty boy. No, this poster child for strength and general level red-hotness had the rugged looks that came with knowing how to take care of himself. His tightly clipped sandy-brown hair reminded her he was ex-military. No way could she get away from him going toe to toe, even if she was close to his height at six foot. Growing up with three older brothers had taught her a thing or two about her own limitations.
“You’re hurting me,” she angled, hoping he’d slacken his grip enough for her to escape.
“I’m sorry about that. I loosen my hold and you’ll run for it. I need you right here. It’s me, Samantha. I’ve said this before but it’s worth repeating. You can talk to me.”
“Fine. Let me go and I promise not to do anything stupid.” Even if he was determined to get himself involved, she couldn’t allow it.
“And I’m supposed to believe you based on what? Your word?”
“Yes. You are.” Looking into those green eyes, seeing she wasn’t getting anywhere, Samantha decided to take another tack. If he was going to believe her, she’d have to tell him something concrete. And yet he wouldn’t believe her if she did. She could hardly believe it. “Look, I know how crazy this sounds, but Kramer is either reaching out from the grave or someone is pretending to be him.”
He shot her a look that had her wondering if he thought she was crazy. She hadn’t thought about how all this might look to an outsider until then. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, too.
“You have my word that I won’t try to run away from you, Dylan. Now let me go.” She jerked her shoulders, surprised when he loosened his grip.
“Tell me something, Samantha. Because right now you look guilty of something bad, something that has you on the run, and if I didn’t know you better, I’d be calling the cops.” As if for emphasis, he picked up his phone.
“No cops. Promise me.” She rubbed her shoulders to bring blood back to them, trying to figure out what she could say that wouldn’t implicate her father. She wanted to trust Dylan, but she couldn’t risk it. If he knew, he wouldn’t walk away. He wasn’t the type.
“Sorry if I hurt you.” He motioned toward the couch. “Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
Sharp green eyes stared at her. He’d been wild when they were young, and there was more than a hint of that same feral tendency in his features now. “We can do this one of two ways. You sit willingly. Or I tie you up until you tell me the truth. Your choice.”
She moved to the couch and plopped down. Anger boiled inside her. Everyone thought that the Mason Ridge Abductor was gone, but he wasn’t. And he was coming after her. He’d surprised her, then called and threatened her if she didn’t meet him after she got away.
Dylan glanced out the front window and then focused those intense greens on her. Eye contact wasn’t the best idea, because when he looked at her, her stomach flipped. Dylan was easy to look at. She wouldn’t deny an attraction sizzled under the surface, one that had been simmering since before high school. Even with his bad-boy reputation, she’d always known there was something good about him deep inside.
“I was careful not to leave a trail.” The blood was finally returning to her shoulders. Bruising would be the least of her problems.
“Your lack of a path helped narrow the search. You were somewhere within driving distance because you used your car. I also knew you’d want an internet connection. Austin’s your favorite city, so I took a chance. From there, all I had to do was figure out which house you’d rented.”
She’d been that transparent? So much for thinking she could hide. Frustration burned through her. Too bad she didn’t have the criminal tendencies of her mother’s side of the family.
“I’m truly sorry about earlier. You know I would never hurt you on purpose,” he said.
She did know. Dylan was a good guy.
“I’m going to ask you again. What’s going on?” His brow arched and he was examining her face as if her head was about to start spinning.
Could she risk telling Dylan anything else? He already looked ready to strap her into the first straitjacket he could find. And what if she told Dylan what she feared? That her father was somehow involved or at least covering for someone else that night Rebecca and Shane had gone missing fifteen years ago? Or that if she shared what she feared, Dylan would be in this as deeply as she was?
The crackle of a branch breaking sent both of them to the front window.
“Don’t let anyone see you.” Dylan pulled her down, his strong hands firmly on her hips.
In the street, the screech of tires sent her adrenaline into overdrive. “We can’t stay here.”
Dylan opened the curtain in the front window and cursed. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You haven’t given me anything to work with yet.”
“I don’t know who I can trust anymore. All I know is this whole thing is bigger than we originally thought.” Kramer was believed to have acted alone. What if he hadn’t? What if others had been involved in the crime or the cover-up?
“What ‘thing,’ Samantha? What are you talking about?” He stared at her for a long moment.
Could she tell him? She wanted to talk to someone. The past four days had been terrifying alone. She shook her head.
“This is a college town. There are people everywhere, so the noise outside might be nothing.” Dylan’s voice came out in a whisper as he surveyed the area through the windows.
She