Ro sent up a quick prayer—for both herself and Brody. Glancing down again, she gauged an estimated landing spot, and…
She let go.
Momentarily weightless, her stomach flew into her throat as gravity pulled her down to the shingled roof below. She landed with a thud, her knees buckling beneath her on impact.
Ro grunted, the jolt sending her down onto her hands and knees and the phone flying from her lips. She reached out to try to catch it, but only managed to barely touch the phone’s slick edge before it fell off the patio roof to the concrete below.
No!
Ignoring the scrapes she could feel from the shingles’ rough surface, she wasted no time scrambling to the southwest corner of the roof. It was a calculated risk, but she figured her chances of avoiding further injury were best if she could shimmy herself down the roof’s support post.
Feeling much better about the distance between her and the ground, she made quick work of lowering herself over the roof’s edge and wrapping herself around the wooden post. One leg at a time, followed by more of the same with her arms.
Ro could feel the blood oozing out from the clear adhesive wrap Christian had placed over the bandage earlier, but she paid it—nor the pain—no mind and continued her escape. Hair blew into her mouth from the chilly fall breeze, but she simply spit it out and kept moving.
Seconds later, she was on the ground and running toward the phone. She picked it up, her heart sinking when she saw the shattered screen. A few tries later, it was clear the thing was dead.
Ro tossed it into the grass and started to run, following the cute pathway Brody had fashioned that led around to the front of the house. She was halfway to the privacy gate when she stopped.
Her gaze flew to the house. Brody was in there right now. He was in there, alone with whoever had come to do them harm, and she was just…leaving him to fend for himself?
She started to go back with the thought of sneaking into the house from the back door and seeing if there was something she could do to help. But then Christian’s earlier words rang through her head, giving her pause…
Brody would tell you the same fucking thing I am. Now don’t argue, just go!
Meg’s fiancé was right. Like Brody said, this is what he does. The last thing he needed was for her to go barging back inside to help, only to distract him. Or worse, get him killed.
Ro turned around once more and ran. She made it to the gate and flung the safety latch free. Relieved that she was actually going to get away, she’d just started to pull the gate open when a gloved hand appeared from behind, covering her mouth and preventing her screams from being heard.
No!
Her throat burned, her neck muscles straining with her muffled cries for help. She kicked and hit and clawed at the man pulling her away from the gate.
Pulling her away from safety.
The heels of her feet scraped against the unforgiving pathway as she desperately tried to keep her attacker from covering more ground. But the man was big—bigger than Brody—and unflinchingly strong.
The eyes. Go for the eyes!
Reaching behind her, Ro blindly clawed at the man’s face, her fingers meeting what felt like some type of mesh-like face mask. She didn’t let that stop her.
The man jerked his head back, out of her reach as he continued to pull her roughly toward the back of the house. Ro knew she probably looked like a wild woman, but right then, she genuinely prayed someone got there in time to see her.
Sirens blared in the distance, the sound Ro’s first sign of hope since she’d reached that damn gate. But the sound was also a warning. An announcement to the intruder that authorities were on their way.
Almost instantly, the beefy man shifted gears. Swinging her around, he forced a still-fighting Ro closer to the side of the house. With no door or even a window in that part, her frantic mind raced to decipher the asshole’s plan.
The gloved hand slid away from her mouth. Ro sucked in a breath with the intention of screaming but cried out when the man fisted the hair on the back of her head. Her hands flew back to the source of the burning pain, her fingers working hysterically to pull the large male’s fingers away.
She was still struggling to get free when her attacker slammed her forehead into the side of Brody’s house. Once. Twice. Explosions of pain erupted, stealing Ro’s ability to keep fighting.
And by the third and final strike, the terror she’d been feeling vanished. As did the world around her.
15
“Aurora!”Brody’s eyes flew open, his wild gaze searching frantically as he shot up from where he’d been laying.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rocky’s blurred image came into view. “Take it easy, brother. You’re hurt.”