CHAPTER 39

Micah wavered in and out of consciousness. His head felt like someone had popped it like a grape. But he forced himself to remain as focused as possible. Angelina was out there. Hurt, scared and alone.

“It’s been hours,” Micah said hoarsely. “Why the hell haven’t we found her? Why can’t I get her on the phone?”

Connor gripped the steering wheel as he turned onto another dirt road that led to nowhere.

“Keep trying, man. Signal sucks ass out here. If we’re moving and she’s moving, sooner or later you’ll get her.”

“If she’s still moving. She’s been shot. God knows what else.”

Micah ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers glanced over the knot behind his ear.

Where was she?

Damon had three of his company helicopters in the air, a medic and search personnel on each. They had narrowed the search radius thanks to the trace on Angelina’s one call, but there was still a wide area to canvas.

Micah punched the send button again even as he scanned the road ahead. It took a second for him to realize that the call hadn’t gone immediately to voice mail. He yanked the phone to his ear, his pulse accelerating when he heard it ringing.

Come on. Come on. Answer. Come on, baby.

It stopped ringing, and he heard distortion.

“Angelina!” he shouted. “Can you hear me? Are you there?”

“Micah.”

Her voice, whispery soft, thin and strained, came over the line. He nearly wept in relief.

“Baby, talk to me. Have you gotten any bead on your location yet? How are you doing?”

He forced himself to curtail the questions before he overwhelmed her. Connor glanced sideways at Micah, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“I’m tired.”

“I know, Angel girl. I know. As soon as we find you, I promise you can sleep for a week. Now talk to me about what’s around you.”

“It’s not so heavy now,” she said. “I’m next to an open field, but there’s no houses. No cars. Am I going in circles?”

Micah closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Ask her about helicopters,” Connor said.

“Angel, have you heard any helicopters? Close by?”

There was a hesitation.

“I thought I heard one a while ago, but it didn’t seem close.”

“I want you to stay on the phone with me, okay? Just keep talking and keep walking.”

“Micah, I see a sign up ahead!”

His heart started hammering double time.

“Take your time. Don’t rush. When you get close enough to see, tell me what it says.”

Connor picked up his phone, ready to call the information in to Damon so he could relay it to the helicopters and the others on the ground.

All Micah could hear was her harsh breathing blowing through the phone. He was afraid to ask her about the bleeding, and as much as he wanted to, he didn’t dare bring up the baby. He’d lived with a knot the size of a football in his gut ever since she’d dropped the bomb about Chad forcing her to take a pregnancy test.

“Moss Hill. It says Moss Hill.”

Micah turned to Connor, a question in his eyes. “She said Moss Hill. Where the hell is that?”

Connor held up a finger as he quickly related over the phone the information Angelina had given them.

“Micah, there’s a car coming,” Angelina said. “They’ll see me. They have to see me.”

“No! Angel, stay off the road.”

He heard her voice, faint as if she’d pulled the phone away from her ear. The sound of a vehicle, distant at first and then louder, spilled through the phone.

He curled his hand around the cell phone and cursed long and hard.

There was muffled conversation. A man’s voice and then Angelina’s, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

Finally Angelina came back on the line.

“Micah?”

“I’m here, baby. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“This man said he’d help me.”

“Put him on,” Micah demanded.

“Uh, hello?”

The man sounded older and worried.

“My name is Micah Hudson. I’m looking for Angelina, the woman you stopped to help. I need you to tell me your exact location.”

“She’s hurt pretty bad, mister. I think I should take her on to the hospital. There’s a lot of blood.”

Micah blew out his breath to try to assuage the sickness swelling in his stomach.

“No,” he said calmly. “Tell me where you are. We have helicopters close. We can get her to the hospital much faster and every second counts. Get her inside your vehicle and keep her warm until we get there.”


Angelina lay across the seat in the extended cab of the truck, shivering as the heater piped in warm air. It wasn’t actually cold. Far from it—the man who’d stopped for her was standing outside the truck to escape the heat, although he popped his head in regularly.

She thought it likely he was worried she was going to die on him.

At times she was worried too.

She drifted in and out, but she wasn’t sure if it was an actual loss of consciousness or if she just fell asleep and woke at varying intervals.

The pain had numbed, and all she felt was a bone-deep chill. That loss of pain worried her. Her body should be screaming, but it seemed she became less aware of her injuries and her surroundings with each passing minute.

Micah was coming for her. She’d be okay.

She blinked against the sudden tears and then closed her eyes as the tears slipped down her cheeks, warming her chilled skin. Micah had lost so much because of her. Because of one man’s obsession. Looking back, there didn’t seem to be much difference between Chad’s preoccupation with her and her own fixation on Micah.

No doubt in Chad’s fractured mind he wasn’t capable of doing her harm either, and all he did he did out of love.

Nausea boiled like acid in her stomach.

“Miss? Are you still awake?”

The stranger’s worried voice seeped into the cab.

“There’s a helicopter landing. I think they’ve come for you. Thing’s landing in the road. Damndest thing I ever saw. Someone’s coming up the other way too. Guess the rescue is finally here.”

She closed her eyes in relief and shivered despite the stifling heat inside the truck. Again she drifted. What seemed only a few seconds later, she heard the door wrench open. A breeze ruffled her hair and then a hand touched her cheek, smoothing tenderly over the skin.

She roused, her eyes fluttering open. Micah’s face was close to hers, concern burning brightly in his eyes.

“Hi,” he said softly.

She tried to smile, but it just took too much effort. Instead, she let go and stopped fighting the darkness that threatened. Micah was here now. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Micah watched her eyes close and a surge of panic nearly crippled him. He jammed his fingers to her neck, seeking a pulse. When he felt the faint pitter-patter, he nearly melted in relief.

He leaned out of the truck and waved frantically at the medic getting out of the helicopter. As he stared back at Angelina, he took in for the first time just how bad it seemed.

Her shirt was bathed in blood, though most looked to be dried. That was a good thing, right? Her mouth was swollen, and he ran a thumb over the raw-looking cut. Bastard had hit her. Hard.

He tried to pull her shirt away from her shoulder so he could see her wound, but it stuck to her skin via the dried blood, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause it to start bleeding again.

“What have we got?” the medic shouted behind him.

Micah moved back out of his way, though he hovered just a footstep away.

“She told me he shot her in the shoulder. Looks like he roughed her up pretty good.”

“We need to get her out of the truck and over to the chopper,” the medic said. “I’m light on equipment. This isn’t my usual ride, but Mr. Roche needed me fast so I grabbed my jump bag and hopped aboard.”

“I appreciate you coming so quickly,” Micah said. “I’ll help you get her to the chopper.”

“I’ll hook under her shoulders and pull. You get her feet when you can and make sure you don’t jostle her. Since I’m not sure what we’re dealing with, I don’t want to chance aggravating any injuries we don’t know about.”

Micah nodded and then he swallowed. “Look, you need to know ... She’s pregnant.”

The medic grimaced. “How far along, do you know?”

Micah mentally calculated the possibilities. It had to have been that first time. The night at The House when he’d all but raped her. He wanted to puke. “Can’t be more than a few weeks at most.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to put it in my report so the hospital knows. Let’s get her out of here.”

The medic reached under her shoulders and gently pulled her out. Micah moved forward and hooked his arms under her knees, and the two maneuvered her out of the truck.

Connor was standing by the old man who’d stopped for Angelina, and the two were deep in conversation.

“Is there room for me to ride along?” Micah hollered as they neared the waiting helicopter.

“It’ll be tight but you should fit.”

“Let me tell my buddy I’m going. Don’t leave without me. I’ll be right back.”

The medic nodded as he and Micah placed Angelina flat on her back on the floor of the helicopter. The medic hopped in beside her and reached for his bag as Micah turned back toward Connor.

He jogged over to where Connor stood talking to the man, both silhouetted in the beam of Connor’s headlights.

“I’m riding along with her,” he told Connor. Then he turned to the old man. “I can’t thank you enough, sir.”

The man nodded and ducked a little self-consciously. “I couldn’t very well drive on with that little girl needing help so badly. I hope she turns out okay.”

Micah extended his hand to shake the man’s, then he nodded at Connor and started to leave.

“What hospital?” Connor asked.

“I’m not even sure. Holler at Damon. He’ll know.”

“Okay, meet you there.”

Micah nodded and ran back over to the helicopter. The pilot motioned for him to get up front. Reluctantly, Micah left Angelina in the care of the medic and climbed aboard.


Angelina woke to instant disorientation. White. Everything was white and harsh. It hurt her eyes and she quickly snapped them shut again.

The second thing she registered was the smell. And then pain. Dull, not completely overwhelming, but nagging, distant.

Relief. If she hurt, she couldn’t very well be dead. Now that she was certain she was alive, the pain could go away, thank you very much.

She opened her mouth to ask that the pain go away, but her voice didn’t cooperate. She coughed. Big mistake. A groan escaped. A pitiful-sounding groan, but at least she hadn’t lost all her vocal capabilities.

“Angel? Baby, you awake?”

She chanced another peek, cracking one eye open, and saw Micah standing over her bed, his eyes so worried she wanted to reassure him.

“Light,” she croaked. “Hurts.”

“Sorry,” he said contritely.

She closed her eyes again until he returned, touching her cheek tentatively with his hand.

“You can open now.”

She opened her eyes and found the dark much more comforting. His outline became discernible when he flicked on the bathroom light. She blinked at the sudden burst, but then he closed the door so that only a faint glimmer shone through.

“Where am I?” she asked hoarsely when he returned to the bed.

He sat down in a chair by her head and cupped her cheek with a gentle hand.

“You’re in the hospital. Do you remember any of it? They had you in the ER for quite a while. The bullet wound wasn’t serious so they moved you to the floor. You cracked some ribs, though, and they want to watch you for a few days.”

She licked her dry lips. “The baby?”

She couldn’t look at him when she asked the question. The pregnancy had been a huge shock to her. She could only imagine what the news had done to him.

He nudged her chin, still stroking her cheekbone with one finger.

“The baby is fine for now. They did lab work to confirm the pregnancy, and they said your HCG levels were normal.”

Fear sliced through her chest. “For now?”

“Shh, sorry. Bad choice of words. You’re pregnant. I just meant that we have to play it by ear. You went through a hell of a lot.”

You could still miscarry.

She heard the words as surely as if he’d said them.

She sagged into her pillow, pain pounding a little more fiercely through her shoulder. She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Fire swelled through her rib cage. Tears slid down her cheeks as she panted.

Micah swore and pulled his hand away from her face. “Let me get the nurse. She can give you something for pain.”

He punched the call button, and when he didn’t get an immediate response, he abruptly got up and strode out the door. A few minutes later, he returned with a nurse in tow.

Angelina gratefully extended her good arm with the IV line in her hand for the nurse to give her the injection. When she was done, the nurse patted her softly on the arm.

“Try to get some rest, hon. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“I have so many questions,” Angelina murmured when the nurse had gone. “So much to say.”

Micah bent and kissed her forehead. His breath stuttered unevenly over her skin as if he held to his control by a thin thread.

“We’ll talk later, Angel girl. We have all the time in the world. Right now you need to rest and get better.”

“Stay with me,” she said.

The drug worked through her veins, leaving in its wake sweet relief and marked lethargy.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hold me?”

“I wish I could, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Won’t hurt. There’s room. I can move over a little.”

“No! No,” he said in a softer voice. “Stay where you are. I’ll manage.”

She held her breath as he gingerly settled himself next to her, but she shouldn’t have worried. He took such care that she barely felt him when he edged close.

Awkwardly, he put his arm over her waist, lower than her injured ribs.

“This okay?” he asked.

She nodded against his chest and nuzzled her cheek against his shirt. It didn’t hurt to dream a little longer. Dreams were a safe harbor against hurt and grief. For just a little while she could escape, because when she woke up, she had to let Micah go.

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