James didn’t even turn around, picking up the second can and methodically covering the side wall, walking around the building until he was out of sight.
Carl stumbled, sliding in the mud a bit, turning slightly in his effort to recover and found himself staring eye-to- eye with the man lying half in and half out of the water. Gator’s face was streaked with mud and he blended into the shadows of the deck and roots, but Carl was nearly on top of him. As Raines pulled his gun, Gator shot him twice. The first bullet went between the eyes; the second went through his crotch. All around the hunting cabin, birds rose into the air, flapping wings and shrieking loudly.
Gator came up out of the water, his rifle to his shoulder as he emerged. James couldn’t have failed to hear the shots or the alarm of the birds and neither would Vicq, if he were still alive. Gator kept his mind firmly from dwelling on that possibility. His job was to clear the outside of any threat. Flame would do her job, which was to protect Joy. He ran up the slope to circle the cabin.
The smell of the gasoline combined with the whoosh of the fire as it ignited was overpowering.
Gator leapt through the ring of fire to Flame’s side. She’d already rolled Joy in a wet sheet and awkwardly hefted the woman onto her back in a fireman’s carry-difficult to do with one arm, even enhanced. The other woman appeared to be too weak, or too drugged, to stand on her own. She sobbed uncontrollably but clung tightly to Flame, even when Gator tried to remove her.
“Joy! You know me. Let me take you so we can get out of here.” His eyes met Flame’s as he hoisted Joy to his own shoulders. She looked frightened, but calm. Both looked at the doorway. The flames were hot and greedy, pieces of wood falling off. “You ready?”
She nodded.
“You stay right behind me.” Without hesitation, Gator rushed the ring of fire, leaping over the flames on the floor and through to the outside. The wind generated by his body made the flames flare as he leapt over them.
Flame followed him through. She jumped, drawing her knees up to her chest, uncaring of the landing so much as not getting burned. She landed in a crouch and somersaulted down the slope nearly into the water, landing facedown in the mud. She lay there, listening to the crackle of the fire, the lapping of the water, and her own heartbeat. Mostly, she felt the pain crashing through her broken arm, sending shock waves through her body.
Gator’s hands were gentle as he helped her up. He wiped mud from her face. “You’re always such a mess.”
“I don’t like you very much.” She pushed his hand away and sat on the slope waiting for her strength to return.
“You’re crazy about me.”
She scrubbed her hand over her face. “I’m just crazy.”
“I know, but that’s what I find so attractive.” He leaned in close and brushed his mouth gently against hers. “Joy’s in bad shape. Wyatt’s bringing the airboat, but she’s in shock. She won’t talk or look at me and she can’t stop shaking. I know you’re hurt.” He touched her arm gently and brushed his fingers against hers.
“It’s not that bad. I’ll stay with her while you all do whatever it is you do to secure the place.” She allowed Raoul to help her up, mostly because she was suddenly so exhausted she wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep for hours. She even leaned on him as he walked her to a small clearing away from the burning cabin. She recognized it from the photographs that Joy had taken.
She sat down beside the woman and put a steadying hand on her shoulder, mouthing to Gator to go away. “They can’t hurt you anymore, Joy,” she said. “Every one’s been looking for you. No one gave up hope.”
There was a small silence while the wind fanned the flames. Overhead the gray clouds began to drizzle rain on them again. “I did,” Joy said. “I gave up hope.”
“Wyatt Fontenot sent for his brother to come find you. Raoul took a personal leave from the military and has spent weeks tracking you down.”
“What am I going to do?” Joy shuddered visibly. “How can I ever rebuild my life? I’ll never be the same.”
“No, but you’ll be stronger. You’re a survivor. You think you gave up, but you were right there, trying to fight Vicq Comeaux right along with me.” Deliberately she used his name. “I saw you try to grab his ankle when he came at me. That’s a fighter, Joy. They had to keep you drugged because they couldn’t break you. Whatever you did in that room with those men, you did to survive. That’s all. You came out of it alive.”
“I heard Carl say to be more careful with me than they were with Francine. I think she’s dead. She disappeared a couple of years ago. There were four of them.” Joy began to sob again, covering her face. “The worst one wasn’t here. He’ll find me and he’ll kill me. He’ll beat me to death.” The words tumbled out of her, an expression of fear and loathing.
“We know all about Saunders,” Flame assured her. ‘He had a very good friend of mine killed. I’ll be very surprised if he makes it to trial.”
“Trial? Oh God. Everyone will know. They’ll show the movies they made. My family will be humiliated.”
“Joy,” Flame stroked back her hair. “Look at this place. It’s burning to the ground. Carl, James, and Vicq are dead. There won’t be anything left to show anyone. Tell me about Saunders. Are you sure he was the boss?”
Joy nodded several times. “Everyone seemed a little afraid of him. He and Carl are related somehow. They hired Vicq to guard me and…” She sobbed again, this rime more hysterically. It took her a few minutes to re gain control. “Soften me up. Train me. That’s what Saunders said. He would strangle me until I couldn’t breathe while he raped me. I think that’s how Francine died. Carl and Saunders reminded him several times not to kill me.” Flame rubbed her back, wanting to keep physical con tact. She noticed Joy seemed to need the reassurance of her touch. “Nonny, Raoul and Wyatt’s grandmother, was the one who pointed us to this area. You took pictures of this clearing.”
“James brought me here on a picnic. Now I know he must have planned to kidnap me then and turn me over to Vicq.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Some trappers came by I knew. They’re friends with my brothers and they stopped to talk to me.”
“Of course,” Flame said. “James would be afraid they could identify him as the last man seen with you way out here and alone. He wouldn’t want that. Those pictures were a big help, Joy.”
Joy turned and looked at her for the first time. “What am I going to do?”
“Live. One day at a time. Heal. One day at a time. You have a wonderful family and amazing friends. You’re smart enough to know not all men are like Vicq and the others. It won’t be easy and you’ll need help, but you’ll find a way to live a happy life. I know you will.”
Joy shuddered. “I just want to see my mother’s face again. I prayed I’d see her face again.”
“You will. Wyatt’s here now. We’ve got to get you down to the airboat so we can take you to the hospital. Someone has to carry you. Raoul or Wyatt?”
“Wyatt Fontenot is here?” Her voice rose to a small wail. She bit it off, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “He knows what went on here? How can I face him? I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“Wyatt hasn’t stopped looking for you, not for one moment. Yes, he does know what happened here, but it only makes him want to keep you safe, the same as Raoul. The Fontenot brothers are very protective.” Flame glanced up to see Wyatt striding toward them, his face set and hard. “I don’t think you’re going to get much of a choice unless you say so now. Here comes Wyatt.”
Joy dragged the wet sheet around her, seemingly aware that it was semitransparent. As he approached, Wyatt peeled off his shirt. “Joy.
His voice was so tender, a knot rose in Flame’s throat. She watched him bend down and hold the shirt out. “I have my eyes closed, honey. Get rid of that wet sheet and put on my shirt. I brought an old pair of sweats as well.”
