Taking Aim. Elle James
and slipping over the loose rocks.
From her vantage point at the top of the ridge, Jacie stood helpless as the horror unfolded.
Aramis reared, dumping Tracie off his back. She hit the ground and rolled, sliding down the slope back toward the base of the canyon.
Jacie yanked her rifle from its scabbard, slid out of her saddle and dropped to a kneeling position, aiming at the man at the base of the canyon.
The man was aiming at her.
Jacie held her breath, lined up the sights and pulled the trigger a second before he fired his gun.
His bullet hit the ground at her feet, kicking up dirt into her eyes.
For a second she couldn’t see, but when her vision cleared, she saw the man she’d aimed for lay on the ground beside his ATV, struggling to get up.
One down, three to go.
Ginger topped the rise, followed by Aramis, spooking D’Artagnan. He pulled against the reins Jacie held on to tightly. She didn’t let go, but she couldn’t get another round off while he jerked her around.
When he settled, she aimed at the closest rider to her. He was halfway up the hill, headed straight for her.
She popped off a round, nicked him in the shoulder, sending him flying off the vehicle. The ATV slipped over the edge of the trail and tumbled to the bottom.
The other two riders were on their way up the hill. One split off and headed back down the side, straight for where Tracie lay sprawled against the slope, low crawling for her Glock that had slipped loose of its holster. The other rider raced toward Jacie.
Jacie aimed at the man headed for Tracie.
D’Artagnan pulled against the reins, sending Jacie’s bullet flying wide of its target.
She didn’t have time to adjust her aim for the rider nearing the top of the hill. He was too close and coming too fast.
Jacie let go of D’Artagnan’s reins, flipped her rifle around and swung just as the rider topped the hill. She caught him in the chest with all the force of her swing and his upward movement. Jacie reeled backward landing hard on her butt, the wind knocked out of her.
The rider flew off the back of the vehicle and tumbled over the ridge.
Jacie scrambled to the edge and watched as the rider cartwheeled down the steep slope, over and over until he came to a crumpled stop, midway down.
The last rider standing had reached Tracie before she could get to her gun. He gathered her in his arms and stuck a pistol to her head. “Pare o dispararé a mujer!”
Even if she couldn’t understand his demand, Jacie got the message. If she didn’t stop, he’d shoot her sister.
Two more ATVs arrived on the canyon floor.
Jacie had no choice. She didn’t want to leave her sister in the hands of the thugs below, but she couldn’t fight them when they held the trump card—her sister.
She eased away from the edge of the ridge and scoped her options.
D’Artagnan and the other horses were long gone, headed back to the safety of the Big Elk Ranch barn.
The ATV she’d knocked the rider off stood near the edge of the ridge. If she hoped to escape, she had to make a run for it.
Jacie ducked low and ran for the ATV, jumped onto the seat, pulled the crank cord and held her breath.
The two new ATV riders were on their way up the hill. The man holding Tracie fired off a shot, but his pistol’s range wasn’t good enough to be accurate at that distance.
The ATV engine turned over and died.
Jacie pulled the cord again and the engine roared to life. She gave the vehicle gas and leaped forward, speeding toward the closest help she could find. The Raging Bull Ranch.
She had a good head start on the other two, but they didn’t have to know where they were going; they only had to follow.
Jacie ripped the throttle wide open, bouncing hard over obstacles she could barely see in the failing light.
The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, the gray of dusk slipping over the land like a shroud. Until all the stars twinkled to life, Jacie could only hope she was headed in the right direction.
After thirty minutes of full-out racing across cactus, dodging clumps of saw palmetto, lights appeared ahead. Her heartbeat fluttered and tears threatened to blind her as she skidded up to a gate. She flung herself off the bike and fell to the ground, her legs shaking too badly to hold her up.
Dragging herself to her feet, she unlatched the gate and ran toward the house. “Help! Help! Please, dear God, help!”
As she neared the huge house, a shadow detached itself from the porch and ran toward her.
On her last leg, her strength giving out, Jacie flung herself into the man’s arms. “Please help me.”
Chapter Two
Zach staggered back, the force with which the woman with the long brown ponytail hit him knocking him back several steps before he could get his balance. He wrapped his arm around her automatically, steadying her as her knees buckled and she slipped toward the floor.
“Please help me,” she sobbed.
“What’s wrong?” He scooped her into his arms and carried her through the open French doors into his bedroom and laid her on the bed.
Boots clattered on the wooden slats of the porch and more came running down the hallway. Two of Hank’s security guards burst into Zach’s room through the French doors at the same time Hank entered from the hallway.
The security guards stood with guns drawn, their black-clad bodies looking more like ninjas than billionaire bodyguards.
“It’s okay, I have everything under control,” Zach said. Though he doubted seriously he had anything under control. He had no idea who this woman was or what she’d meant by help me.
Hank burst through the bedroom door, his face drawn in tense lines. “What’s going on? I heard the sound of an engine outside and shouting coming from this side of the house.” He glanced at Zach’s bed and the woman stirring against the comforter. “What do we have here?”
She pushed to a sitting position and blinked up at Zach. “Where am I?”
“You’re on the Raging Bull Ranch.”
“Oh, dear God.” She pushed to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. “I have to get back. They have her. Oh, sweet Jesus, they have Tracie.”
Zach slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him to keep her from falling flat on her face again. “Where do you have to get back to? And who’s Tracie?”
“Tracie’s my twin. We were leading a hunting party on the Big Elk. They shot, she fell, now they have her.” The woman grabbed Zach’s shirt with both fists. “You have to help her.”
“You’re not making sense. Slow down, take a deep breath and start over.”
“We don’t have time!” The woman pushed away from Zach and raced for the French doors. “We have to get back before they kill her.” She stumbled over a throw rug and hit the hardwood floor on her knees. “I shouldn’t have left her.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Zach stared at the woman, a flash of memory anchoring his feet to the floor. He remembered his partner, Antoinette Gutierrez—Toni—in a similar position, her face battered, her hair matted with her own blood, begging for her life.
The room spun around him, the air growing thick, hard to breathe.
Not until Hank ran forward and helped the woman to her feet did Zach snap out of