Page 63 of The Unknown Colton
Eager to tell her that and confirm that she was really all right, Troy pushed open his driver’s door and nearly sprinted up to the porch.
But when he neared the door and found it partially open, his heart started beating even faster. He drew in a breath, inhaling something unusual, cloying and chemical at the same time. He coughed, cleared his throat, then yelled, “Lakin!”
His shout echoed off the wood walls and floor. There was no response. Outside not even a bird chirped or a leaf rustled. She was gone.
He wanted to believe that she’d walked to the office, but she wouldn’t have left without closing and locking the cabin door. And then there was that smell…
That chemical smell and a lingering odor of cigarette smoke.
When he stepped through the open door, he saw a big handkerchief lying on the floor. Was that where the smell was coming from?
He didn’t touch it. He didn’t dare because he had a feeling Lakin’s home had just become a crime scene. But what was the crime? Abduction? Or worse?
He couldn’t let himself think that. He couldn’t let himself believe that he wouldn’t see Lakin again, or he would become as paralyzed as when he fell from the oil rig. He wouldn’t be able to breathe, let alone move.
He had to find her.
* * *
The search and rescue team had just gotten a call. Another woman was missing. The last woman who’d gone missing from the Shelby area had turned up just a few days ago. Dead. Dawn Ellis.
This woman could not turn up the same way. This woman was family. Kansas drew in a deep breath, trying to pull herself together, for her family’s sake and mostly for Lakin’s. She had to find her cousin.
So she rallied the search and rescue team. This had to be a rescue, not a recovery. They had to find Lakin.
Alive.
CHAPTER 21
Lakin was stuck in an old nightmare. The one where she could hear voices shouting at each other. She’d had such a hard time for so long with raised voices. School had been so tough in the beginning until she’d learned to ignore her reaction and suppress the old memories.
But they were back now, pulling her into the nightmare. The shouts. The sharp slap of skin against skin. Someone was fighting.
And the crying…
Someone was hurt.
Tears burned the back of her throat, like they were running down behind her closed eyes. Behind her closed eyes, images wavered, faded and yellowed like that old photograph Jasper Whitlaw had given her.
He wasn’t her father.
But she heard her father’s voice now: Will’s deep rumble. He used to wake her up from the nightmares and hold her until she stopped crying and trembling.
She needed him now.
She needed Troy to rush to her rescue like he alwaysdid. She imagined she felt like he had after falling off the oil rig—she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even open her eyes. She couldn’t pull herself out of the nightmare.
She had to…
She couldn’t keep counting on other people to rescue her. Especially not Troy. He wasn’t sticking around. He would go back to those damn oil rigs, back to putting his life in danger. Maybe it was better being in danger doing a job than defending her. She didn’t want him getting shot at again. She didn’t want him or anyone else to risk their life for hers because she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of causing someone else harm.
She had to rally her strength. And she also had to clear her head enough that she would be able to figure out who the hell had grabbed her and what they wanted with her. Then she had to get the hell away from them.
She drew in a little shaky breath and managed to lift her heavy lids. Not much… Just enough to see that she was in some kind of cave. Walls of rock surrounded her. The dirt was cold and hard beneath her body. The ground wasn’t smooth, either; rocks and twigs poked into her back.
She tried to move her hands, but they were numb, the circulation cut off from duct tape binding her wrists tightly together.
There was duct tape around her ankles, too.
