Page 75 of Mountain Shadow

He thinks he loves me.

This all started with him listening to my voice.

She began speaking, then. “Please. I meant no disrespect, Elliot. I didn’t know you then. Tell me more about yourself, please. Help me understand.”

He watched her mouth hypnotically as she spoke. For a moment, she thought she just might be able to talk her way out of this. Then his look morphed into one of pure hatred. “You’re doing it again. You think me a fool!”

He threw his large bulk against her, pinning her against the bed. His hand lashed out, striking her in the mouth. Her teeth jarred, catching the edge of her tongue. Her mouth filled with a coppery, metallic taste, but the pain didn’t even register. Only the fear.

His large, meaty hand came between her legs. She kicked out against him, but his body was too close for her efforts to have any real impact. Sarah turned her head away from him, unable to bear his fetid breath.

“You,” he punctuated, pulling her knees apart inch by inch, “are going to learn what it is to feel weak and small.”

It took an instant for his words to enter her brain but, when they did, her fear took a backdrop to her anger. She might not be physically strong, but all her life she’d prided herself on being strong and independent. This man had turned her life upside down. He’d hurt people she cared about. But he was never going to take her strength away from her.

“You will never make me weak,” she snarled. “No matter what you do to me.”

The blow didn’t catch her by surprise this time, but she still cried out as his first struck her bruised cheek.

24

Jens

Jens’s leg muscles burned. His heart felt like it was going to explode. The worst pain, however, was in his head. He’d been running for over an hour, had ascended maybe five or six hundred meters and only had three pebbles left in his pocket, but still hadn’t come across any house or building that resembled Kat’s description.

What if Kat got the direction wrong?

He’d taken a bet by coming out here alone, instead of going down the mountain to get help, and his decision could cost Sarah her life.

Kat’s words resonated in his mind.

She’s in danger.

Ignoring the burning in his legs and lungs, Jens asked his muscles for more power. He couldn’t stop until he reached the top of the next peak, where he’d hopefully have a better view of the surrounding mountains and valley.

He caught sight of the small building just as he crested the peak. It was more than a wooden hut and less than a chalet—a rustic structure that had been built by a farmer, perhaps, as a winter refuge.

Jens went down on his haunches behind some boulders. His body shook from the abrupt stop. Everything was still in the early morning air.

If he’d been approaching from the road, he wouldn’t have seen it, but from where he sat he saw, parked against the side of the house, a dark sedan.

His breath hitched.

He recalled the grainy images from the video. The car was too similar for it to be a coincidence. And there were fresh tire tracks leading to the house.

Jens brought out his phone, hoping against hope that here, at the top of a peak, he might have a cell phone signal, but the empty bars mocked him.

Fuck.

He looked at his watch, taking stock of his situation. It had been an hour and fifteen minutes since he and Gael had split up. He had faith in his friend—he was certain Gael had managed to get Kat to safety, was probably even now rallying the team to get back to him. They’d come with cars and helicopters. But it would take them time to find this building, time that Sarah didn’t have.

He was alone and unarmed, but if there was even a small chance of getting Sarah back safely, then there was no choice to be made.

Jens breathed in and out slowly, no longer conflicted. It felt to him, suddenly, like it was always going to come down to this. He wasn’t worried about getting hurt, or even dying—that was a price he’d gladly pay to get Sarah back. The only thing that worried him was the thought that he might be too late.

In one swift move, he ran out from behind the boulder and crouch sprinted to the house, slamming his body against the wall to make himself as small a target as possible.

When nothing happened after half a minute, he tiptoed closer to the door. He kneeled by the door and took off his backpack, fishing inside for the Swiss Army knife he always carried, which had a small lock-picking tool.