Page 51 of Captive Wilderness
Straightening away from the phone, I nodded to the woman and moved around to the other side of the counter. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” The woman’s eyes had lost theyou’re a nutjoblook and had gained ayour life is sadexpression. “Do you need help with anything else?”
“I’ll pick out some clothes. Thanks.” I walked through the racks, my movements robotic. There wasn’t any underwear here. I’d have to find a new bra somewhere else. Not giving the garments much consideration, I grabbed a pair of jeans in my size, then a few graphic Ts. I made sure the jeans fit, then kept them on, same with the gray shirt that readBeat Itacross the front.
Rolling my old clothes in a bundle, I went to the front counter, allowing the woman to cut off the tags from the things I wore so she could ring them through along with the two other graphic Ts. A few purses and wallets were arranged on a shelf in the corner. I picked the biggest purse, a fake leather, square-shaped one.
“I’ll use this for a bag,” I said tucking my jean skirt, Kane’s T-shirt, and the two new shirts inside. It bulged.
“Sure,” the woman said, scanning the tag for the bag, then cutting that off too. Her eyes went to my neck.
Reflexively, I touched my mating marks. The neckline of this T-shirt was much wider than the one I’d borrowed from Kane, exposing the set of semi-circle marks completely.
My cheeks heating, I paid for my purchases and received some coins and a few bills left in change—a blue five, a purple ten, a green twenty. I slid it all into the inside pocket of the purse.
“What’s this?” I asked when the woman passed me back the hundred-dollar bill.
“I have a long-distance plan. Your calls didn’t cost me anything.”
A small bit of light emerged through the gloom that hung over me. My throat tightened at the gesture. “That’s okay.” I slid the hundred back. “It was worth the money.” Then I tucked my new, bulging purse under my armpit and left.
I stopped on the sidewalk, and the knot in my throat wouldn’t leave. The tug in my chest told me to find Kane down the hill. He was taking a while at the motel. Maybe there was a problem and I could help. I let out a slow breath. He’d been making his way in life on his own for a long time. I didn’t need to interfere.
With purpose, I turned toward the pharmacy. Time to get some essentials.
A hand shot out from between the two buildings and clamped on my elbow. I let out a startled shriek and dropped the purse. A sweaty palm clamped over my mouth. I was yanked off the street, and my nostrils filled with the scent of shifter.
I tried to shout. The man clamped his fingers over my nose too. I couldn’t breathe. With every bit of strength I owned, I struggled against him, kicking and clawing.
Something cold touched my neck, encircling it. Panic made me writhe. I started to shift, to tear away from him.Click.The collar trapped me. A familiar pain spiked through my head and into my stomach.
I screamed, the sound muffled beneath his hand. My body shook, then stilled, my vision blurred with stars.
“That’s right,” the rough voice said against my ear. His hand moved off my nose but stayed over my mouth. The sweet fragrance of aftershave mixed with what I now understood to be cougar scent. “Be a good kitty and relax.”
He dragged me backward between the two buildings, my heels scraping in rough earth. The tug in my chest toward Kane intensified. When the separation was my choice, I could tolerate it. Now it was painful, like a limb torn.
The man’s arm squeezed my ribs beneath my breasts. Then, to someone else, he said, “Keep it on low so she stays submissive.”
A bone aching vibration quaked through my body, making my teeth clench and my shoulders curl forward. I couldn’t feel the tug in my chest anymore. It hurt everywhere. I couldn’t get away from it. They pulled me into an alley. Through the haze of pain, I saw the other guy. A shot of recognition went through me. He was the shifter from the airplane, the one with a trucker hat. The one who attacked Sabrina.
Rage burst through me, and I struggled with renewed force. I clamped my teeth on the hand in front of my mouth. He howled. I shouted for help as soon as his hand relaxed, but it covered my face harder than before in the next second. He squeezed me so tight I thought my ribs might crack. I couldn’t breathe.
A car door opened. I was lifted inside and rolled into the back hatch of an SUV. The door slammed shut again before I could fight my way out.
With each wave of pain, my vision blurred. There weren’t any handles on the inside of the door. I couldn’t get out. I crawled to the front of the cargo space on my hands and knees. It was caged with bars like the owner had dogs. I rattled them.
“Let me out.” I had to bite off each word. It hurt to speak, my teeth aching from the constant pain of the collar.
“Not going to happen,” said the driver I’d bitten.
Both guys were dressed like construction workers with hardhats and orange vests. They pulled them off and threw them into the back seat before the one guy started the SUV. Then he shifted into gear and we sped off.
I fell backward from the momentum, knocking my head against the hatch. More stars dotted my vision. Gravel spit from the tires.
“Did you see her mark?” He said it under his breath, but I heard him.
“Yeah.”
