“Heather!”

They hadn’t stopped searching for me. I felt like I’d been sitting here for hours, but it could’ve been thirty minutes. I had no idea; I’d been woozy when I hoisted myself up into this tree. I was higher than their line of sight now so they’d have to shine a good-sized flashlight right on me to see me. The tree had two large branches coming out of the trunk, and I’d maneuvered myself into that little notch where the tree separated and used my jacket to hold me in place. It wasn’t the best way to secure myself, but it was what I had because the trunk was big enough that I couldn’t wrap my arms around it. I laid myself against the branch so my own weight kept me anchored in place.

I pulled out my phone to call for help, but when I did, they saw the screen flash.

“Hey! There!” one shouted, and they came crashing through the woods toward me.

I clicked it off.

It was still on silent so it wouldn’t even buzz. I hated, hated, hated doing it, but I turned it over so if any light flashed it would be toward my leg, and I shoved it into my pocket. I was plunged back into darkness.

They stopped about ten feet from where I was, but I could hear them.

Too close. Way too close.

I must’ve dozed off because when they walked right underneath me, it woke me up.

I jerked in place, then thanked the gods that my anchor had stayed in place. Some bark scraped free, and it fell to the ground. It sounded deafening to me, but I couldn’t hear it when it landed. The ground was soft, no rocks down there.

I still held my breath, praying for a solid five minutes that they hadn’t heard.

When they didn’t backtrack, I felt tears of relief on my face.

How was I in this situation once again?

Channing.

This was why we should break up.

This was why we should go our separate ways.

I had a life. I had loved ones to worry about and keep safe. But a whole new slew of curse words flashed in my head, because no matter how many times I told myself to go, I knew I wouldn’t. I physically wouldn’t be able to walk away from him.

I had a magnetic attraction to him; it always led me back to him, and while I knew I should be fucking furious, I wasn’t.

Face it, Heather.

I was talking to myself. I’d resorted to that, but I sank even lower because I answered.

Yes, yes. I know. It’s not Channing. It’s me. I’m attracted to the crazy dysfunctional. That’s my family, my friends, and my other half. It’s me.

I was the problem.

And I didn’t think I could change. I didn’t think I even wanted to change.

I tried to imagine it.

Normal would’ve meant moving to a house away from Manny’s. I’d need more quiet. Living so close just meant I basically lived at Manny’s. The chaos from it, the adrenaline, the excitement was intoxicating. It always bled over to the house, so I’d have to move. Even at that thought, I winced.

I would need a plain home, in a plain neighborhood where people cared about the length of their grass. Where they cared if a fence was chain-link or painted brown versus white, if it was decorative or for privacy, if it was six feet high or four feet high. The neighbors would want to meet me. They’d care about the HOA fees. There’d be an enforced quiet rule in the neighborhood. No revving motorcycle engines after midnight, or even ten. Certainly no gunshots—what losers.

I shuddered. Was it from the cold or the head wound? Who knew? Me. It was the thought of living a normal, plain life.

I couldn’t do it.

There’d been no guy I wanted as much as I wanted Channing. I thirsted for him. I didn’t want to wake up next to anyone else every morning. No guy could live up to Channing.

I was in. I was all in.

I mean, I already knew I was. I’d had the realization earlier, but being in a gunfight and then being kidnapped called for some second thoughts. So I’d just run back over it all, while tied up in a tree and bleeding from the head.

That was it. I was in an altered state. I didn’t know what I was thinking because I should not be okay with this.

“Heather?”

I almost growled. That was Richter. They’d called in reinforcements. He wasn’t far off, maybe thirty yards or so. I heard a dog barking too.

For the love of God. They’d gotten dogs.

“Heather! Listen to me. I know you’re still here.”

No, he doesn’t. He has no idea where I am.

“Listen.” Crunch. He was walking toward me. “My men didn’t hurt you. They tried to restrain you, but they didn’t hurt you. I know that because that was my order. You weren’t to be harmed, and I still want to follow that. I don’t want you hurt, but Heather…” His voice rose. “If you stay out here, I can’t guarantee that won’t happen. It’s a long way from here to town.”

He was almost to my tree. It looked like the early morning light was starting to stretch over the horizon. There were a few breaks from the trees, enough to let some light in eventually, but it was still dark.

How much time had passed?

My head spun.

I wasn’t sure.

I could make him out, the shape of his head.

He was almost beneath me.

He cupped a hand by his mouth and yelled, “My men showed me the bloody rock. You hit your head, Heather. There was a lot of blood. Wherever you are, I know you’re hurting.”

Goddamn, shut up, you fucking Peter.

I was talking to him in my head, and I knew I was probably forming the words with my mouth. I should’ve stopped myself, in case I accidentally let the words slip out, but I couldn’t. I was barely holding on.

I eyed the tree underneath me and added, Literally.

He was right beneath me now. He paused at the base of the trunk and scanned the area.

They thought I was still on the ground.

Fuck.

The head wound. That’s why.

They didn’t think I was stupid enough to climb a tree.

I almost snorted. Little did they know.

I started laughing, silently, jostling myself.

Shit. Maybe they were right.

I began sliding to the right, but the tied jacket kept me in place. I didn’t dare move, not an inch. Bark would fall down and land on his head.

Why does the bad guy always have to be right on top of the heroine? Why? Or in this case, right below?

Ooooh! OH! Oh fuck.

I started to slip farther to the right.

If I fell, I was done—cracked neck and everything.

Richter needed to move, and on a seismic level.

Move, dumbass!

I began inching again. More. More. Another inch.

Holy shit.

I was too close to the edge. If I kept going, I’d fall.

I was nearing a precipice, pardon the pun. Either fall and die or move and risk being found?

I had to move.

If I waited any longer, I wouldn’t be able to make a choice.

I did it. I jerked back to the left, made sure my body was resting heavily on the branch, and held my breath.

Bark fell, scraping down, and I froze. I could see a little bit better, and as I watched, the bark moved right toward his head. This is the time in the movies where the bad guy moves and the bark falls within inches of his head.

This wasn’t the movies.

The bark landed smack on his head, and he looked up, a hand raised to brush whatever had fallen off him. As he did, his eyes moved up…and up…and up—until they landed right on me.

They almost bulged out of his head.

“Get down from there!” he yelled, the veins on his neck sticking out. “Holy shit.”

I was pretty sure the blood drained from his face, but I wasn’t completely certain. He jerked back a few steps to get a better view.

“How did you get up there? You have a death wish?!”

When he put it like that…

The game was up. I could officially move again, so I grabbed my phone from my pocket.

“SHE’S OVER HERE!”

He was yelling as I checked for a cell signal, and bam! I had one. I clicked through to my GPS and hit Find My Location.

The guys were yelling, scrambling toward us. A dog barked wildly. As they got to the base of my tree, I saw it was an Italian greyhound.

“Way to bring out the bloodhounds, huh?” I kept talking as I screen-shot my location and sent it to Channing. I waited a second, rethought, and sent it to Rebecca too. Who knew when having a personal stalker would come in handy?

The dog pulled at his leash, going every way except my tree. The guy kept cursing and yanking him back, until Richter waved his hand and the guy stepped away. I swore I heard a “Thank God” come from him.

“Heather.”

Richter was back at it. I wanted to say something snappy, but I wasn’t feeling it. I was saving my strength. I needed to muster enough sass for my last line, and just thinking about it made me smile. Here came some of that strength again, like a small trickle.

“Come down from there.”

“Wait.” One of his guys jerked forward. “What if she falls?”

Richter paused, then shrugged. “We catch her?”

Another guy asked, “What if we don’t catch her?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Richter barked, glaring.

The two lowered their heads, and the others fell in line.

“Heather! Get down from there before you slip and fall. If you die, well, that will suck for everyone at hand. Just…” He softened. “Come down. Please.”

Oooh. Please. He was really trying to turn it on.

I tried to speak, but only a rasping sound came out. Coughing, I cleared my throat enough to hoarsely call back, “Only if you get on your knees, Richter.”

“Heather.” A warning growl.

My phone beeped, and I saw the texts coming through, one after another.

Channing: We’re coming.

Channing: Hold on.

Channing: Woman, I love you. Don’t do anything stupid.

Too late.

Rebecca: The cavalry is assembled. We’re riding your way.

I groaned.

Channing: Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?

Whoa. He really was worried. An ambulance usually meant cops, and we didn’t do cops here.

Me: No. Just come.

I pushed send, then rethought it and sent another one.

Me: Maybe a lift? I’m in a tree.

I was about to be rescued, and that thought had my ovaries on hyperdrive.

Richter was still trying to get me down. I must’ve tuned him out, but I could hear him rambling on about something, sounding more and more mad.

“Heather!”

I heard that from him a few more times before I figured it was time to say my piece.

“Richter,” I called down.

He quieted and stepped closer to the tree, his head at a ninety-degree angle with his body. “What?”

I smiled. “I just called in backup.”

His eyes went flat. “What?” His nostrils flared. “You don’t have a phone.”

One of the guys swore. “She dropped it. I swear.”

I shook my head, laughing like a maniac. “That wasn’t my phone. I was returning it to someone when they snatched me. I’ve had my phone this whole time.” I paused, savoring this. “The cavalry is coming. They’re on their way now.”

“I don’t believe you. There’s no cell signal out here.”

I took my phone out and waved it, just a tiny bit. “You’re right, unless you’re up here.” I pointed toward an opening in the tree line. “And you know there’s a tower not far.”

He stared at me.

I stared back, felt myself leaning backward, and jerked forward again.

He smiled. “I don’t believe you. I’m calling your bluff.”

At that moment, two guys rushed in with large bags over their shoulders. He waved at them. “Do you know what that is?” The guys unzipped the bags and pulled out climbing ropes.

My heart sank.

“That’s the end of this stupidity. They’re coming up to get you.”

“It’s too late,” I yelled. “I really do have a signal.” To prove it, I clicked on the sound and dialed. It took a second. I held the phone in the air. Richter smirked at me, and those two guys were really moving fast. They had grips and everything.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They’d get to me before Channing.

And then, my phone started ringing.

That smirk moved from his face to mine. “Better go, because I told them to bring an ambulance.”

He paused, then came to a decision. “Move faster, guys!”

My heart was officially in my feet now.

Channing wouldn’t get here in time.

I had to move, and looking up, I decided I’d have to go higher.

“Heather, don’t you dare. Don’t!”

My decision was made. He wasn’t the only moron here.

“Suck my dick,” I growled as I prepared to move.

I was going to die.