She could barely breathe. She struggled wildly, but he yanked her arms behind her and quickly tied her
hands together.
Fingers snaked into her hair, balled into a fist and jerked her upward. The flat of his other palm slapped
across her mouth, stifling the scream she tried to launch. It was then she saw him from the corner of her
eye. Rand. Oh my God.
Her eyes went wide, and he yanked her against him as he dragged her from the room. When she kicked at
his legs, silver flashed in his hand, and the sharp blade of a hunting knife pressed to her neck.
“You’ll die right here, right now,” he hissed. “Stop fighting me.”
“Why?” she croaked out when his hand relaxed against her mouth.
He tightened his grip once again, ignored her question and hurtled down the stairs, her flopping like a rag
doll the entire way down.
“Rand, stop, please,” she gasped when he shoved her out the front door.
“Shut up! Just shut up.”
He pushed her toward his work truck, opened the door and threw her across the seat. Her back landed
against the passenger door. He climbed in next to her and flashed the knife once again.
“Why are you doing this? Are you insane?”
She was too stunned to do more than stare at him. Then she realized the stupidity of her inaction and
fumbled clumsily for the door handle with her bound hands.
There was supposed to be evil in his eyes, wasn’t there? Something to tell her he was some desperate
wackjob. But all she could see was ruthless determination.
He gunned the engine just as she managed to crack the door. He reached over and grabbed her around the
neck even as he wrestled with the steering wheel.
“Shut it!” he shouted. “Shut it, or I swear to God I’ll make you suffer. You won’t escape, Emily. Not this
time.”
He swerved wildly on his way up the long drive and the door slammed, knocking her forward on the seat.
He anchored her against him. When she turned, trying to bite him, he doubled his fist and punched her in
the jaw.
She went sprawling. Her head cracked against the dash and her behind slid off the seat, wedging her
between the glove compartment and the passenger seat.
“That’s a good place for you,” he grunted.
She lay there, helpless, her hands tied behind her, stuck on the floorboard.
“Why?” she rasped out. “What the hell are you doing, Rand? Taggert and Greer will kill you for this. You
have to know that.”
He ignored her, staring out the windshield with that same grim…determination. What was he so
determined about? This was all some joke. A really twisted, sick, dumb-as-shit joke, but a joke
nonetheless.
Rand was quiet, respectful, and he’d always had a smile for her. What the living hell had gotten up his
ass?
She cleared her throat and tried a different tactic. “Rand, what’s going on?” She purposely softened her
voice and tried to make herself sound…accommodating. God, she was actually trying to sweet-talk this
bastard. “Why are you so angry with me?”
Could she sound any more pathetic? She was so through being pitiful. Enough was enough, damn it!
“Just shut the hell up so I can drive. I have to get away before they come back. They’ll fix that fence soon
enough.”
He was almost talking to himself, not even acknowledging her awkward-as-hell position on the
floorboard.
“Did you sabotage the fence?”
He shrugged. “Seemed the easiest way to get them out of your bed and out of the house.”
Her cheeks went warm, and rage shot through her veins.
Then he turned to stare at her. “Yeah, I know all about you, whore. You couldn’t leave well enough alone.
You already destroyed Sean. You should have stayed away from Taggert and Greer.”
“Dear God, is that what this is all about? You disapprove of my relationship with Greer and Taggert so
you’re taking me away?”
She could hardly control the incredulity in her voice. He was off his goddamn rocker.
“Rand, stop the truck. Let me out. Now.”
He slammed on his brakes, and for a moment she thought he was actually going to listen to her.
Then he turned, his eyes sparking with fury.
“You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get to make demands. You twist a man’s balls, have them dangling
from your fingertips. It should have been you who died. Not Sean. I won’t make another mistake.”
Nausea rose in her throat. Tears of anger swam in her eyes. No way. He couldn’t mean what she thought
he did. She tried to open her mouth but all that came out was an inarticulate sound of rage.
She licked her lips, frustrated that she couldn’t get her tongue to work.
“Nothing to say?” he mocked. “You didn’t have much to say that night either. You deserve to die if for no