When Lightning Strikes

Lainie swallowed hard. A teeny weeny spark of fear slipped into her righteous anger. She felt?crazily?as if this wasn't just a dream, and she hadn't just punched a figment of her imagination. She backed up, shaking her head. The gag kept her horribly silent.

He leapt at her, grabbed her wrist, and spun her around, dragging her toward the horses. She kicked, she screamed into the gag, she tried to wrench away. None of it seemed to affect him in the least. He tightened his grip and moved faster.

At the horses, he pinned her to his body and fished a length of rope from his saddlebags. Then he dragged her, still kicking and screaming soundlessly, to a spot beside the pine and shoved her down. Rocks and pebbles bit into her backside. She gave a tiny, muffled yelp of pain and tried to scurry away from him, but he was too fast.

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He rammed her wrists together, circling them in an unforgiving band, bruising, pinching. She wiggled and tried to scream. When none of that worked, she glared at him.

"It won't be long. I'm just gonna walk on down to that ranch and see if I can buy another couple of horses."

She screamed into the rag. It came out as a muffled, pathetic little squeak.

He paused, glanced at her. One eyebrow winged upward tauntingly. "Did you say something?"

She glared at him.

In a single, practiced motion, he brought her hands to her ankjes and quickly bound her hands and ankles. She squirmed and wiggled to get free, but her balance was tenuous. She tipped slightly and fell, landing sprawled on her side like a bound steer.

He bent over, his upside-down face peering at her. "Was that how you wanted to wait for me?"

Screw you.

He grinned. "Wait, let me guess what you said. Did it start with an F ... end with a M?" He waited a second for her answer, then laughed again, a rich, rumbling sound that made her want to rip his eyes out.

"Here you go." Gently he righted her. Then he straightened. "I'll be right back. No more than fifteen minutes. Just?" he smiled broadly?"keep quiet."

Lainie stared, watching him walk away from her. For a few precious heartbeats, she felt an almost violent anger. She thought about all the things she was going to do to him, how she was going to make him pay for treating her this way.

She'd kill him with hot wax in chapter one. She'd draw and quarter him ... slowly. She'd ...

She looked up and he was gone.

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She was alone.

The towering cinnamon gold walls seemed to close in on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. Heat hit her hard in the face, brought a sheen of sweat to her forehead and throat. Somewhere a hawk cried, its sound a keening, desperate wail in the emptiness.

Her anger collapsed, caved in on itself and left her with nothing. Fear took its place, surging through her body, moving like ice through her trussed arms and legs. A vile, bitter taste invaded her mouth. For a horrifying moment she thought she was going to be ill.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was a mistake. Memories came at her hard; disgusting, despicable images pulsed through her mind, spearing through her courage like tiny, poison-tipped arrows until she couldn't breathe. They came at her from all sides; the murmured drone of lowered voices, the shuffling thud of heavy footsteps, the jangling of keys. Hands reached for her, forced her onto a cold vinyl bed. Leather straps closed around her wrists, bit into her tender flesh; a key chinked into place.

She opened her eyes, tried to banish the pictures from her mind, but she didn't have the strength.

She bowed her head. Please, God, let me wake up now. I don't want this nightmare. Not . . . tied up. Please, God ...

But there was no answer from above, no easing of the burden, no shifting of the images. She closed her eyes again and curled into a small, shaking ball, trying not to care.

After a while, the darkness came for her. She slipped into a place inside herself, an almost catatonic quiet that welcomed her with comforting, familiar arms.

And the dream ceased to matter.

Chapter Four

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Killian approached the farmhouse warily, his hands at his gun belt. His every sense was focused on the silence around him.