The cuffs. She couldn’t chance him waking up. Couldn’t chance him following her. She wouldn’t be able to hold him off again.
Silver glinted in the candlelight and she saw the cuffs across the room, thrown carelessly aside when he’d freed her before.
She crawled over and grabbed them, her hands shaking violently.
Simply cuffing him wouldn’t do. She had to incapacitate him. She quickly cuffed one wrist and then rolled him so that he lay on his belly. She yanked both arms around and then secured the other wrist.
Rope. She’d seen rope when they walked in. But where? She searched the living room frantically and then remembered it was out on the front porch. Hoping it was sturdy and not rotted and frayed, she stumbled out to get it, ignoring the blood that dripped from her bullet wound.
Calling on strength she didn’t know she had, she looped the rope around his ankles and then pulled until his legs were bent back, and his body was bowed, belly out. She tied the rope as tightly to the cuffs as she could, winding and winding again until he was bent at an impossible angle, his arms and legs tied together behind him.
Keys. Where had he put the keys? First things first. She had to stop the bleeding. She ran to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers until she found some old rags. As best she could with one hand, she fashioned a tight bandage, but blood was soaking through them already.
She tucked the gun into the waist of her jeans and went in search of the keys. Frustration ate at her when she came up with nothing. She searched his pockets, the living room, even the bathroom. He hadn’t left them in the car. She knew that much.
A groan rose from across the room, and she panicked. She pulled the gun and eased over, pointing the barrel down at him as he moaned again and tried to move.
Rage. Such red-hot fury descended. Her hand shook and her finger curled around the trigger. She could shoot him. Right here, right now. No one would blame her. No one would ever know it hadn’t been done in the heat of the fight. She could shoot him and then untie him and leave him to die. He deserved to die like a gut-shot animal. Slow and painful.
Do it. Just do it.
The voice whispered over her ears. She was tempted, so tempted. He’d taken everything from her. From Micah. He’d tried to kill her baby. He didn’t deserve to live.
Tears filled her eyes and she wiped at them, leaving sticky blood.
She lowered the gun and turned away. No. David had taught her to value life. He’d never want her to kill another human being for him.
She left the house, stumbling down the steps, the gun once more tucked into her jeans. Cell phone. Chad’s cell phone. He’d left it on the seat of the car.
She wrenched the door open and looked again for the keys, though she’d seen him bring them inside. She grabbed the phone and slammed the door shut.
From inside the house, she heard Chad curse and then yell at her. He called her a litany of names and vowed to kill her if he ever got his hands on her again.
She needed no urging; she turned and ran down the road they’d driven in on.
CHAPTER 38
Micah paced the interior of the meeting room at HPD. He was about to go out of his mind. Nathan, Gray, Connor and even Damon had gathered along with several detectives. They had crawled over Chad’s entire life, tracked his movements by credit card receipts, knew where he’d stayed in Houston and when he’d taken leave from Miami PD.
Micah blamed himself. The taste of guilt was sour and overwhelming. How could he not have seen what a nutcase his friend was? Hell, they’d worked together for years. Nothing had ever made him suspect Chad was off his rocker.
He’d made it entirely too easy for Chad to get to Angelina. He’d failed to protect her then just as he’d failed her now.
His cell phone rang and he flipped it open in his hand. He froze as he stared at the incoming number.
“It’s him,” he barked.
Silence fell, and one of the detectives motioned him over to the table.
“Put it on speaker,” he mouthed to Micah.
Micah pushed the button and snarled into the phone. “Where is she, you son of a bitch?”
There was a moment’s hesitation and then Angelina’s voice quivered across the room. “Micah?”
Fear exploded over him. He snatched up the phone even though it was still on speaker. He needed to be closer to her voice.
“Angel? Angel, baby. I’m here. Where are you? Are you all right?”
Her breath came out in a low sob, and she sounded winded and scared out of her mind.
“I don’t know where I am. I need help, but I don’t know where I am.”
The desperation in her voice scared him shitless.
“Okay, baby, calm down a minute. Where is Chad? Is he there?”
“I left him in the house,” she said faintly. “I handcuffed him and tied his legs and arms so he couldn’t come after me.”
Stunned expressions met her statement. The detective’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”
Micah ignored him, his only focus on Angelina. “Good girl. You got away from him. Now tell me where you are so I can come get you.”
Another sob poured through the phone. “I don’t know. I’ve been walking forever, but I don’t see any signs and it’ll be dark soon. He ... he shot me.”
All the blood drained from his face. He collapsed into a chair still holding the phone to his ear. Oh God.
“How bad?” he asked, trying to stay calm when his heart was ready to pound out his chest.
“My arm. Or my shoulder. I’m not sure. Hurts. I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Her voice sounded weaker.
“Angel, Angel, baby, listen to me. I want you to find a place to sit down. I need you to save your strength so you can help us find you.”
There was wind noise and a light whimper and then silence.
“Angel. Angel! Stay with me. I need you to stay with me,” he pleaded.
“Who is the cell provider?” the lead detective whispered loudly. “We can try to lock onto her location. I need that cell number.”
Micah held up one finger. His first priority was making sure Angelina was still on the line.
“Angel, talk to me.”
“I’m here,” she said faintly.
“I’m going to need just a second. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
He held the phone away and related the number to the detective.
“Keep her talking,” he said to Micah. “Have her tell us as much about her location as possible.”
“Angel, do you know what direction he took you?”
“North,” she said after a brief hesitation. “Last highway I took note of was 146. After that he took back roads. Dirt farm roads, only they weren’t marked. He took me to an abandoned house at the end of one of the roads. The woods are thick here.”
“Okay, Angel, don’t worry. We’re working on it,” he said soothingly. “Have you stopped the bleeding? How bad is it?”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted. “He made me take a pregnancy test.” Tears were thick in her voice. “He was so furious. I knew I had to protect my baby.”
Micah laid the phone on the table and covered his face with his hands. Someone put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t look up.
“Angelina, can you hear me?” the detective said in a loud voice.
“I hear you,” she said in barely a whisper.
“My name is Detective Sanchez. I’m here with Micah. We’re going to find you. I need you to believe that. You and your baby are going to be okay.”
“I can get a helicopter in the air,” Damon said. “Two, three, whatever we need. We can use the last known highway as a jumping-off point.”