Chapter 15: Battle of Wills

Kate pressed her body back against Sawyer. Why hadn't she seen this coming? Sawyer had warned her that the attacker could hear her. Why hadn't it occurred to her that he would come back and eliminate the threat?

She watched warily as he stepped out of the trees brandishing a large knife. His eyes glittered with evil intent, and he smiled when he got a look at their faces.

"I hoped you'd be fool enough to follow me," he said.

"Where is she?" Kate asked, looking around but seeing no sign of the woman he'd taken from the beach.

He grinned coldly. "She's safe. For now."

"My ass," Sawyer muttered under his breath.

"I want to know where she is," Kate said with as much force as she could muster.

"And I want to know where you put my property."

"You want the pictures," Sawyer said, "You give us the girl."

"It doesn't work that way. I call the shots. You ever want to see her again, you do what I say when I say it."

Kate held her breath, waiting to see what his demands were going to be. But the pictures were gone; what the hell were they supposed to do? She felt Sawyer's hand against her back, anchoring her. He was probably thinking the same thing she was.

"This is what's going to happen," the man said, looking directly at Kate. "You're going to take me to what I want and you're not going to cause me any trouble."

"She's not going anywhere with you," Sawyer said plainly.

"Oh, but she is," he said. "If either of you want to get that girl back alive, you're going to do exactly what I say. She's out there somewhere. Bleeding," he added for emphasis. "If you want to find her in time you're going to need my help."

"You son of a bitch," Kate murmured, fighting to keep the fear from her face. For once, she couldn't think of a way out, and that scared her more than being held at knifepoint. The attacker she could deal with. But there was an innocent woman out there somewhere, and Kate didn't think she could live with any more blood on her hands.

She frowned when she felt Sawyer press something hard against her back. Her gaze slid down briefly, then shot back up when she realized what it was. She kept wary eyes on the attacker, knowing that she couldn't say anything. She couldn't tell Sawyer not to use the knife he'd quietly let her know he had. He couldn't use the knife until they knew where the woman was. If they killed the attacker now, they might not find her in time.

Her heart stuttered. This was getting out of control, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Sawyer swallowed his fury, clenching his fist around the handle of the knife. He felt the tremors running up and down Kate's body. She was damn good at hiding it, but he could sense her fear. She was terrified, and not just for the missing woman.

"That's right. I'm one big son of a bitch. So what does that make you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kate asked.

"I saw them put you on the plane," he said, and Sawyer felt her tense. Her muscles tightened, and the air around them became charged.

"I saw them walk you onto the plane and handcuff you to your seat. Tell me, what did you do to rate that kind of attention?"

Sawyer waited, not showing his surprise at the man's comment. So he'd seen them put her on the plane. Had he sat near her during the flight? Had he watched her, fantasizing about making her one of his victims? The mere thought made Sawyer's blood boil.

"Go to hell," Kate spat.

The man chuckled, but there wasn't an ounce of humor in it. He stepped a little closer, but still remained out of reach. Sawyer wondered if he'd be able to reach the man and disarm him before he did any damage. He watched the man's every move, every twitch, waiting for the right moment. And he watched the man's eyes as they wavered between anger and pure madness.

"I'm feeling magnanimous, so I'm going to let that one slide," he said quietly. "But this is the only chance you get. Piss me off again and someone gets hurt. Now let's go."

Kate shifted away from him, just slightly, but Sawyer felt fear well up so quickly he thought he might be sick. There was no way in hell he was going to let her walk away with this asshole. If he got her alone, she was dead, and he wasn't going to let that happen.

Kate took one small step forward, and Sawyer's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and squeezing hard enough to make her wince. "Don't move, Freckles," he said. "You're not going anywhere with him."

"I can handle him," she murmured softly.

"She's going with me if you want the girl to live," the man said. "How long do you think she can stay out there before the animals start smelling her blood?"

Kate choked on her breath, whether from fear or fury Sawyer wasn't sure. But he felt and recognized anger steal through her, because the same thing was happening to him. The bastard's words put things in a whole new context. It planted the image in his head of that poor woman out there somewhere, bleeding and helpless as the animals approached. He made a sound low in his throat, no longer thinking about stopping the man with his knife. No, he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. He wanted to choke the life out of the sick son of a bitch.

The man stepped forward quickly and latched onto Kate's arm with his free hand, pulling her out of Sawyer's grasp. But before Sawyer could react, before the man could raise his knife to her throat, Kate jerked her leg back and slammed her shoe into his shin.

The man howled with rage, one hand rising up to clutch Kate's throat in a bruising grip, the other raising the knife high in the air. But before he could plunge it into her Sawyer moved, rushing forward and grabbing the man's wrist with both of his hands. He gripped it hard, crushing bone against bone, as Kate struggled to dislodge the man's grip on her neck. With a savage grunt the man dropped the knife to the ground and used a strength borne of desperation to shove Kate away from him. She slammed into a nearby tree and fell to the ground, dazed.

Sawyer's head swung around sharply, and the man used his distraction to his advantage, driving his elbow into Sawyer's gut. His breath left him in a gust and his stomach threatened to rebel. But he kept his feet until the man landed a vicious left hook, catching his cheekbone and sending him sprawling to the ground.

He shook his head and winced, feeling a trickle of blood on his cheek. He turned his head and saw the man stalk over to Kate, who had gotten to her knees and was struggling to get to her feet. He helped her by fisting his hand in her hair and pulling her up.

"You're going to pay for that, you little bitch," he growled, shoving her up against a tree.

Sawyer was on him before he could land the first blow. He jumped to his feet and rushed the man, catching him around the abdomen and pulling him to the ground. They landed with a thud and rolled several times, jockying for position. Sawyer blocked a punch and slapped the man's already-battered wrist to the ground. He howled in rage and pain, reaching out with his free hand and finding a rock. He swung his arm and smashed it into the side of Sawyer's head.

Sawyer fell to the side, his vision blurring, only then seeing Kate coming toward them, a large rock of her own clutched in her hand. "The knife, Freckles," he shouted. "Find the damn knife."

She turned frantically and started searching, but the only light she had was pale moonlight intermittently piercing the canopy of trees. She dropped to her knees and searched the ground by touch instead.

Both men struggled to their feet. Sawyer ducked the man's punch, slamming his elbow into the man's side as his momentum carried him forward. The man fell to his knees and Sawyer kicked him, sending him down the rest of the way. He curled up on himself and coughed.

He turned around to find Kate. She'd located her flashlight and was frantically scanning the ground for the knife. He would have helped her, but he couldn't remember where he'd been standing when he dropped it. She dropped to her knees and reached under a bush. A moment later she stood back up with a knife clutched in her hand. She looked toward him, then past him, and her eyes widened.

"Sawyer!" she shouted. "Behind you!"

He turned and caught a flash of something sailing at his head. He ducked back and it barely grazed his temple, but it still hurt like a bitch. He cursed, clutching at his head. Kate rushed up to his side, the knife clutched in her hand, but before she could pass him up he caught her arm and spun her back. They had to stop him now; there was no way around that. The man was too crazed to be reasoned with. He would never tell them where he'd hidden the woman. They had no choice except to put an end to his havoc. But he would be the one to do it. He wasn't going to let Kate live with the man's blood on her hands.

"Give me the knife—"

The man knocked him to the ground before he could finish the demand. His weight forced the breath from Sawyer's lungs, and he knew they had to end this here and now. He didn't have much strength left. This wasn't the movies. He couldn't take an infinite number of hits and keep going like nothing had happened. He was at the end of his rope.

Summoning the last reserves of his energy, he caught the man's punch and sent his own fist crashing into the man's jaw. The man's eyes squeezed shut, his face contorting with rage. He started to draw his fist back again, but suddenly a shout pierced the air and his eyes went wide. He froze, the rage draining out of his face as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He remained that way for several long moments, as if frozen in time, then he fell sideways, landing on the ground beside Sawyer, stiff and unmoving.

Sawyer dropped his head back, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs. When he felt his breath coming back, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. Kate stood at his feet, wavering, shock and grief a potent mixture on her face. She sank to her knees, dropping her head, unable to look at the dead man for another second. Sawyer wanted to howl at the moon, to rage that she shouldn't have been forced to do that. He knew what it was to live with unshakable grief and guilt. He hadn't wanted that for her.

He didn't understand the protective instincts she raised in him. He'd been with his share of women, but none of them had ever done this to him. He wished it would go away. Life was so much easier when all he felt for a woman was physical attraction. That had been there since the first moment he'd laid eyes on Kate. But the rest of it, the need to protect her and keep the grief and horror at bay, was something completely new. He'd thought that he was immune to it, and he didn't like learning he wasn't.

Kate sank to the ground, fighting to keep the tears at bay. She'd never wanted to be in this position again. Never wanted to hold someone's life in her hands. Not that she was grieving for the loss of that man. He'd deserved to die. But with one plunge of the knife, she'd quite possibly condemned an innocent woman to a horrible death.

Sawyer struggled to his knees and came toward her. She reached for him, telling herself it wasn't because she needed him, but simply because she wasn't sure she could hold herself up on her own. She ignored the nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her she did need him.

"He doesn't deserve your grief, Freckles," Sawyer said roughly.

She clutched his shoulder with one fist and pounded against his chest with the other. "I'm not grieving for him," she murmured around the lump in her throat. "But we'll never find her now. He was the only one who knew where she is."

"We'll find her," Sawyer insisted. "He stashed her somewhere and got back to us while we were still on this trail. She can't be far."

"Then why can't we hear her calling for help?"

"He probably knocked her out before he left her," Sawyer said, struggling to his feet and pulling her up after him. She held onto his shoulder for a moment, until she felt steady enough to stand on her own. She looked up at him, at the conflicting emotions swimming around in his eyes, and felt something shift inside her. Part of what she was anger, part grief, and part was something much harder to define.

She released her grip on him and slowly turned around until she found the spot where the man had first appeared. "He came from that way," she said, pointing. "Maybe there's a trail back there and he left her along it somewhere." She told herself it had to be true. They had to find her in time. It couldn't be too late. She had enough darkness in her life already. She didn't think she could live with any more.

They took off through the trees, holding onto each other to steady themselves. They said very little. Kate clutched a flashlight and swept it down the narrow path they found. Sawyer carried one of the knives; there was no way they were going to be caught unprepared again. The attacker may be dead, but there were other unnamed threats out there.

Kate guessed they had gone about a quarter of a mile when the trail widened and sloped downward. She slipped and slid down the slope, clutched at ground roots and brush as the still-wet ground played havoc with her footing. Sawyer was right behind her. They made it down the slope and continued along the path, periodically calling out the woman's name, though they never got a response. Dread pooled in Kate's stomach, but she ignored it and pressed on. She had to be alive. She wasn't going to let herself think of the alternative.

The path forked to the right, and when she made the turn she came to an abrupt halt. Sawyer plowed right into her, but she didn't even feel the impact. Instead, she stood still as stone, her heart caught in her throat, and stared.