Charlie woke, half in a daze. What the hell was that beeping sound? She’d finally had the night she’d first tried to have nearly a week before—just her, Netflix, and a tub of ice cream. More than one, actually, followed by an Irish-cream chaser. She still had a full twenty-four hours before she had to be back on shift, and so what the hell. It had been the first night she’d had entirely on her own since all this crap had started up. Shane’s company had been nice—more than nice—but she’d been badly in need of some alone time, just to catch her breath and let her mind relax and reset. Not that she could complain much. Waking up to Shane’s hard body pressed against hers in the morning was a special kind of wonderful. Charlie’s lips curved upward, and her eyes fluttered closed at the memory. Maybe she could get back to sleep and have a very sweet dream or two before morning.

Beep beep!

Damn it. More awake this time, she recognized the sound of her phone. Who the hell was texting her at 2 a.m.? She reached over and swiped the screen, wincing at the brightness. Her eyes widened as she took in the message.

Shane injured in fire, still on scene. Address is 51 Meadow.

Suddenly wide awake, Charlie threw off her blanket and grabbed around in the dark for her jeans, cursing when she stubbed her toe against the nightstand. The number on her phone was unknown, but that wasn’t surprising. She didn’t know the guys from B shift that well. They must have gotten her number from someone they knew from her shift, or maybe even someone from another house she’d worked at who had transferred in. She didn’t care. It would have been nice to be able to call back and see how Shane was, but getting there was more important. It took her two more minutes to get dressed and unearth her car keys, and then she was on the road.

* * *

Charlie slowed as her maps app told her she was approaching the destination. The route had taken her down a few side roads and into the more rural part of town. They’d attended fires down here in the past, barns or someone’s grazing land sparking, but the road ahead was dark.

She pulled over to the side of the road, leaning forward and peering out over the dash. According to the app, she only had a few hundred yards to go before she reached the address, so why wasn’t she seeing any lights from the trucks yet? Pocketing her phone and grabbing a flashlight, she climbed out of the car.

She swept the large flashlight across the field in front of her. It was a heavy fucker, long metal handle and all, but it lit up the scene in front of her like a searchlight. Nothing was there except a few cows, blinking slowly at her in the sudden illumination. A few more steps revealed the road was more mud track than actual road, a local track leading to farms nearby and not much else. Wooded area to the right and to the left, a small hill blocked her view of much else. Maybe whoever it was had given the nearest marked address he could find and they were over the rise.

Charlie started up the hill. Her feet slipped a little at the start, and she put one hand down to brace herself. Climbing a small mountain in the dark hadn’t exactly been in her plans when she’d slipped on tennis shoes in the middle of the night, but after a text like that, she wasn’t leaving until she was sure the scene was clear. The top of the hill should give her enough height that she could see far enough to figure out whether or not the squad was out here. If she couldn’t spot anyone from up there, then she’d get on her phone and find out what the hell was going on. If this was someone in B shift’s idea of a joke, then she’d kill them. If Shane didn’t get to them first.

Shane.

If there’s one thing this whole situation was making damn clear, it was that she cared for him far more than she had let herself admit. Charlie dug her heels into the hill and managed to get purchase, pushing upward again. Tomorrow morning, when whatever the hell this was would be all over, she was going to tell him she’d decided to stop being an ass. Shane would be all for giving things a go between them, that much she was pretty sure of after the last week, and she was done resisting. If just the mention of him being hurt on a call was enough to have her climbing a mountain in the dark, then even she had to admit she was done for. Now she just had to let Shane know.

Her feet slipped on the earth again, and Charlie bent forward, gripping at the sparse grass along the hill to keep her grip. Her foot slipped again and a quiet gasp escaped her as she dug her toes in. Was she stuck on a bramble or something? She tugged her foot forward, and then her blood froze. A hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged. Hard.

Charlie lost her footing entirely and fell forward, yelping when her forehead came into contact with something hard—much harder than just the ground. There must have been a rock lying right where she fell. The impact brought tears to her eyes, and she kicked backward, desperately trying to dislodge the hand still gripping her. Confusion swam in her mind. Was there a victim from the fire, desperately looking for help and who had found her nearby? A snort escaped her as she dismissed the idea, muffling itself when her brain caught up with the reality of the situation. Someone had a hold on her, and they were pulling her so hard she fell.

She kicked outward again. Now hands grabbed at her waist, pulling her entirely off balance. Her face met the earth again as the entire world tipped over, arms and legs tumbling as she and whoever had tried to take her down tumbled back down to the road. She landed on her back, and before she regained her breath enough to yell for help, a heavy weight settled over her ribcage, blocking any attempt at a deep breath. The air all but knocked from her lungs, all she could manage was a whimper.

Hands came at her from out of the darkness, and Charlie brought her hands up to her head, elbows bent, trying to absorb the worst of the blows. Her head was still ringing from whatever the hell she’d hit on her way down, and her eyes refused to focus in the dim light. She squinted, but all she could see was another fist coming at her, and she rolled her head to the side. Her assailant’s hand grazed past her ear and her vision wobbled again—from the movement or the new impact, she couldn’t tell, but if she didn’t get her feet under her and get the hell up soon, she wouldn’t be telling Shane anything. Her breath burst in and out of her and she sucked in a ragged gasp, pushing out at the heavy weight sitting astride her as she tried to wriggle free, to get any leverage. Something!

Strong hands gripped at her shoulders, holding her still. Her mind rammed at her to fight back, to push, move, anything—but Charlie couldn’t move. Her limbs shook with exhaustion, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the sight that was finally visible through a small dash of moonlight. Most of the face of the man on top of her was in shadow, and her heart sank when the dim light revealed the rest to be covered by a ski mask. But those eyes . . . the eyes visible through a gap in the mask felt like they were burning directly down to her soul. They shone with malice as the man shifted his weight, leaning forward and wrapping one hand around her neck.

Charlie forced herself to not panic. There was no way she was getting the man off her. He was just too damn heavy. If she didn’t think of something, then the hand around her neck would tighten until her air cut off entirely. In desperation, she pushed out again at the ground. This time, her feet moved! The shift in the weight holding her down had enabled her to bend her legs. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Just enough that she could wedge her heels into the dirt and shove. The movement jerked her back, only a few inches, but enough to surprise her attacker. Fear was replaced with grim satisfaction, and she did it again, this time dislodging the weight enough that she could move her arm. The grip on her throat tightened, but the man couldn’t hold on to her throat and also stop both her arms from moving. Her hand flew out, madly scrabbling along the ground, looking for a rock, a branch, anything she could use. When her hand closed around cold, patterned metal, she could have wept.

Wrapping her hand tightly around the metal handle, Charlie gripped as hard as she could and then swung the flashlight up. Her arm swung widely in a large arc, but this time the darkness was on her side. The first thing her attacker knew of her find was when it impacted the side of his head with an extremely satisfying thunk.

The hand loosened around her neck as he made a grab for the flashlight, and Charlie wasted no time. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she flattened her feet out, locked her ankles, and then shoved again, swinging with the flashlight again. This time, with the movement, the heavy metal met a large bulk of flesh. An enraged growl came from above her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Again she hit out with the metal handle, and again, until instead of her protecting her head, the tables were turned, and her attacker’s hands flew to his face as he rolled away from her to stop the blows.

Charlie scrambled to her feet, almost slipping with her refusal to let go of the light and use her hands to push upward. As she hesitated, fingers grazed her wrist. She flung the flashlight back, hard, letting go of the handle as she felt it make contact and then she ran like the dogs of hell were at her heels. She made it back to her car, slamming the door shut and locking it. That wouldn’t stop anyone, though, especially if the fucker managed to find her flashlight and turn it against her. Why the hell had she let it go?

Because you need your hands, Dumbass. Now move!

Her hand shook as she fished in her jacket pockets for her keys, realizing at the last minute that they might not be in there anymore. She nearly sobbed with relief when her fingers brushed the ridged metal. She yanked them out and fumbled for the large flat end of her car key, all the while keeping her eyes looking dead ahead for any sign of her attacker launching out through the darkness.

She found the key in what was probably seconds, but felt like years, and this time, real tears coursed down her face as she turned the engine over and listened to its beautiful hum . . . for about three seconds, before she slammed the car into reverse and swung it around. She only barely paid attention to her surroundings, her vision still fuzzy. Everything felt a little left of center, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from changing into gear and stomping on the accelerator, jerking the car forward.

The world swam double in front of her eyes, but she could see clearly enough to avoid hitting any trees that lined the side of the road. They didn’t move. If her attacker moved in front of the car suddenly, well, she wasn’t sure she cared very much right now if she hit him.

It wasn’t until she reached the first main road and saw the street lights and other cars that her heart stopped pounding and her breath stopped sawing in and out in short gasps. Her skin was clammy and the dizziness returned. The adrenaline rush faded out as quickly as it had begun, and Charlie’s stomach lurched. She pushed at the door, barely opening it in time before she vomited on the side of the road.

Finally, the jerking of her stomach and her lungs stopped long enough for her to catch her breath. Even still half panicking, she could recognize the symptoms of shock, plus she was sure she should be concerned about the pounding in her head and the trail of blood running down her left cheek. Somehow, though, all she could do was think about being somewhere warm, and wrapped up in Shane’s arms. She dug around inside the car, found her phone, and clumsily pressed at the screen. Calling 911 would have been the sensible choice, but right now she wanted a direct line to someone she knew was safe. Someone who could protect her from her attacker without questions and would find out where Shane really was, immediately. She pressed the button from her speed dial menu and put the phone to her ear.

“Detective Scott Wilder.”

“Scott? It’s Charlie. I need your help.”