Part 37 (1/2)

She bit back her cry, determined not to wake Angela.

If she could just grasp a piece of metal debris, one of the many nails lying just out of reach on the floor . . .

It came to her as she sat struggling. She'd seen it done on a crime show. She grimaced. Dislocating her thumb was the only way to break free.

Positioning her right thumb atop her left thumb's ball-and-socket joint, she placed her right fingers into her palm and pressed as hard as she could with her right thumb. The socket popped and slid out of place, and her hand was free. She bit back the cry of pain threatening to rip loose. Fighting the dizziness swirling over her, she reached for one of the nails lying in the debris pile to her left, now able to reach them without the left cuff pinning her to the chain.

Grasping with her fingers-her thumb utterly useless and throbbing-she clasped hold of one and shuffled back to a sitting position. As she worked to free her other hand, she quickly realized it would be nearly impossible without a working thumb. So using the same method in reverse, she set it back in place, again swallowing the holler of pain. Her thumb was swollen and in excruciating pain, but at least now she had a modic.u.m of function with it.

Working as quietly as possible, she popped the other cuff open.

Angela rolled over with a groggy mumble, and Kayden waited stock-still until she heard Angela's rhythmic snoring resume. Then she rolled onto all fours and, careful not to put pressure on her thumb, crawled in the opposite direction of Angela, until she reached the pitch-dark doorway she'd seen her go through time and again.

The only light source was the lantern next to Angela's head, and trying to retrieve it wasn't worth the risk of waking her. So now she was headed blind into an unknown maze.

Using the doorframe for support, Kayden pulled herself to her feet, moved her hands ahead of her for guidance, and began feeling her way down the pa.s.sage.

She had no idea which way was out, only the direction Angela came and went. Kayden prayed it would lead her outside, but then what? If she didn't put some serious distance between her and Angela before Angela woke, she'd never outrun her with a broken leg.

She stumbled blindly down the corridor, praying for G.o.d's protection, for His guidance.

Father, I know the darkness is as light to you. Please guide me through this. I can't do this on my own.

Feeling with her hands, her fingers brushed some cold metal. She scrambled to grasp a handle or k.n.o.b, but found nothing other than solid wall. She hit one dead end after another.

She continued moving along the cold surface, feeling for a door, praying for a door. She b.u.mped into something hard, and pain ricocheted up her legs, but she managed to remain standing. Too much leftover debris littered the building. If she moved too fast, the next collision might incapacitate her. But what choice did she have?

She prayed she wasn't making too much noise, that Angela was far enough away that she couldn't hear her clattering about.

The wall indented, and hope sprung in her chest as she quickly followed it down and found a handle. She lifted, but it remained stuck.

”Come on.” She tried again, using only her right hand, her left thumb swollen and throbbing.

She needed more leverage.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she clasped her left hand on the handle as well, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out as she hefted it up. A horrible squeak sounded, echoing through the room.

She stilled, listening for any sound of movement on Angela's part.

Hearing nothing, she proceeded forward, nearly tripping over the raised doorframe. Water sloshed around her feet, a horrific musty smell a.s.sailing her nostrils.

Please lead me out.

If water was dripping in, it made sense it was coming from somewhere outside. If she could find the entrance point, maybe she could find her way out. She followed the sound of dripping, slos.h.i.+ng unceremoniously through the murky water.

She fought the tears stinging her eyes. She would get out of this. This wasn't going to be her end. Not before she had the chance to tell those she loved how she really felt-her family and, G.o.d help her, Jake too.

He deserved to know she loved him, deserved to know what an amazing man she believed him to be.

She'd always thought protecting her feelings and guarding her heart was best, but now the thought of dying without ever saying the words, without truly expressing her deep and abiding love for them all, left her feeling helpless.

Her casted foot caught on something and sent her flailing forward. She landed on the ground, her hands breaking her fall, her thumb breaking in the process. A cry of pain escaped her lips, but the water covering her head swallowed it.

She pushed to her knees, spitting out the disgusting sedentary liquid and gulped in air. She needed to find another light source, or she could end up walking in circles and harming herself more in the process. Getting to her feet, she sloshed forward, s.h.i.+vering. Thankfulness soared through her as she found a second door. She lifted the handle, prying it open, and a light flashed on.

Angela? With a bat?

The wood flew at her face, and she heard a crack-

42.

Marshall said there were only two army bunkers on Imnek-the others being a combination of navy and coast guard. Jake was roughly twenty miles away from the first one, and the second was on the other side of the island, across a mountain from Gage and Darcy's search area. It was Angela's way of making sure the search party was split.

Please, Father, let her be at the closer one. Let me find her now.

He couldn't let a Mark.u.m rip another woman he loved away from him. Couldn't let anything happen to Kayden. Though knowing Angela's vindictive nature, he feared she may already have started inflicting pain.

She and Joel sure made a pair. Evidence had proved he liked to torture women. Jake only prayed his wife wasn't following suit.

His throat constricted at the thought of Kayden being at the woman's mercy, fearing Angela possessed none.

But this was Kayden. She was the strongest woman he'd ever met. If anyone could stand up to Angela, it'd be her . . . and that's what worried him. Angela would want complete domination, and Kayden wouldn't comply.

Climbing back in his truck, he punched the closer army bunker's coordinates into his GPS and flew back down the rutted road.

Please, Father, let her be here. Let her be okay.

Fifty miles an hour wasn't fast enough, but he couldn't go any faster on the dirt roads leading toward the bunker. Truth be told, he should be going a lot slower, but he couldn't. He had to reach Kayden before it was too late.

Kayden came to with a throbbing headache. Had the woman seriously hit her with a bat?

She looked up in dismay to find herself cuffed once again. This time her shackled hands were mounted on a hook on the wall over her head, and not far from her an empty pair of shackles hung on a second hook. Jake. She swallowed. How sick was this woman?

”I should have known you'd be trouble.” Angela sat in a chair with a gun leveled at Kayden's head. ”You're nothing like the last one.”

Kayden frowned. ”The last one?”

”Jake's wife, Rebecca.”

Kayden blinked to clear her vision. ”What about her?”

”She was very different from you. Docile, submissive. Just stood there frozen as I hit her.”

Shock roiled through Kayden. ”You hit Becca?”