Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (i wanna iguana read aloud .txt) 📕

of his pocket. He didn’t turn it on—the light would betray their location—but pressed the device into her hands. He didn’t say anything but didn’t need to. Chelsey was smart and would know without being told to use the phone as a way to get out of here if something happened to him.

Of course, she’d have to hike to a location where there was cell reception first.

Duncan straightened and widened his stance. He held the penknife in a loose grip, keeping the blade hidden at his side.

There was no doubt that he’d give his life to protect Chelsey’s. Whoever was out there would have to kill him in order to get to her.

A familiar calm came over him, reminding him of his days in Afghanistan. He couldn’t go into battle distracted, so he cleared his mind, focusing on the sounds and scents around him.

He heard the rustling sound again and he pinpointed it as coming from his left. He debated switching the blade to his left hand. He’d been taught to fight with either hand, even though his right was his dominant one. Since he hadn’t been practicing the way he should have, he decided to keep the knife in his right hand, hoping the intruder wouldn’t expect him to have a weapon and that he could use the element of surprise to his advantage.

Minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but the longer Duncan stood there, the more convinced he was that someone was out there. Animals didn’t move with the pattern he was hearing. First rustling, then silence. Rustling, then more silence.

When he caught a glimpse of movement, he knew the intruder was close. He hoped and prayed that the dirt he’d smeared over his light clothes was enough to hide him. When a burst of movement came directly toward him, he was ready.

The man didn’t appear to have a gun which gave Duncan a bit of hope. He waited until the guy was close before using the knife.

A burst of light came from behind him, blinding the assailant. The man lifted his arm in an attempt to block the light, giving Duncan the precious seconds he needed to take him down. They hit the solid earth with a thud. They rolled for a couple of feet, each vying for the upper hand.

But the guy wasn’t about to give up so easily. It didn’t take long for Duncan to realize he was in a brutal fight for his life.

One he didn’t dare lose.

THREE

Chelsey watched in horror as Duncan and a man wearing black wrestled on the ground. The light of Duncan’s cell phone glinted off something shiny and her heart squeezed as she realized it was a knife.

Duncan’s knife? It looked bigger than she remembered and realized with a sick sense of dread the man in black must have one, too.

Their grunts and groans as they struggled were difficult to watch. Yet despite how much she wanted to, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. The more they struggled, the more she realized they were evenly matched. She couldn’t just stand here, she needed to help. To do something.

Her gaze landed on the pile of logs Duncan had gathered for their fire. Reaching for the biggest and heaviest one, she picked it up and took a step toward the fighting men.

Using Duncan’s phone as a flashlight, she waited until the man in black was on top of Duncan before making her move. She had to be careful not to blind Duncan as the men fought to have the upper hand. She held her breath and brought the log down on the side of his head with all her strength. A loud whack echoed through the night.

The man groaned and must have loosened his grip, because Duncan flipped him over and quickly disarmed him. Looming over him, Duncan held the man’s larger knife at his throat.

“Who are you?”

The man’s eyes were closed, his entire body limp as if he were unconscious.

Her stomach lurched. She put a hand to her mouth. Oh no! Had she killed him?

“Chelsey? Get me a couple of those strips we cut from your dress.”

Duncan’s hoarse voice spurred her into action. She tossed the log back on the pile with distaste and went over to where they’d cut several strips off her dress to use as extra protection for her feet.

She brought them to Duncan and watched as he quickly bound the man’s wrists and ankles.

“He’s not dead?” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“No, just out cold.” Duncan was breathing heavily as he glanced up at her. “Thanks.”

She gave a shaky nod, relieved that she’d been able to help. “Now what?”

Duncan let out a sigh. He patted the man down. Lifting the man’s slacks, she could see a gun strapped to his ankle. Duncan took the weapon along with the ankle holster and picked up the man’s larger knife, with a grim satisfaction. “We need to move.”

“Move where?” She didn’t understand what he was saying. “I thought hiking at night was too dangerous?”

“It is.” Duncan rose to his feet, grimacing a bit as if he were in pain. “But we don’t have a choice. This guy is a professional. No ID, nothing to indicate who he’s working for. We can’t assume that he’s alone, there could be others out there.”

“Others?” She didn’t like the sound of that and moved closer to Duncan while throwing a furtive glance over her shoulder. There was nothing to see in the inky darkness, yet she could easily imagine someone hiding out there. “Wouldn’t anyone working with him have rushed forward to help once you began to struggle?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’ve spread out to cover more ground, no way to know for sure.”

She felt as if she’d been dropped in an alternate universe. She managed a family hotel, a place were nice people came to celebrate a birthday or their anniversary—not a place where men dressed in black came out of the darkness, searching for her with the intent to kill.

Was