Hunted Love (A Dangerous Kind of Love Book 2)

 

 

 

Hunted Love

_____________

 

Sarah

 

 

LISA BOONE

 

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Lisa Boone

 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher
.
T
his is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

First Printing, 2015

7.16.16

 

 

 

 

 

Author’s Note

 

While events in this book take place moments after the end of
Mad Love
and share characters in common, the mystery and love story in each book can stand on its own.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

New Year’s Day

1:40 a.m.

 

Jamie Murphy dropped his head back down into the snow and gazed up at the night sky.

He knew he should get up and keep moving but he was so tired; too tired, and too cold to move.

He closed his eyes, picturing the face of an angel with beautiful silky blonde hair and the sweetest blue eyes he had ever seen.

A sound far off to his right caught his attention and he opened his eyes.

A vision of Sarah, sweet Sarah, appeared above him.

His heart sped up and his hand unconsciously reached out to touch her face.

For a moment, the vision swam before his eyes and he frowned in confusion. He blinked away the snow from his eyelashes, as the image disappeared leaving nothing but the dark sky and the treetops filled with snow swaying above him.

It was just his imagination. His lips turned up at the corners. He must be hurt worse than he initially thought. He wiped the snow off his face. Sarah wouldn’t come to him, especially not now that she knew who he really was. Even though he knew she would find out eventually, he had just hoped he could put off the inevitable for a while longer.

His arm dropped like a lead weight back into the snow. It didn’t matter. At least she was safe. The psycho terrorizing Sarah and her sister, Madison, was dead now. Jamie had made sure of that.

He blinked again, painfully becoming aware that if he didn’t start moving, he’d be joining the man in hell very soon.

He lifted his head. The cabin he had spotted earlier in the day wasn’t that far now. If he could just get to it, everything would be okay. He started to turn over, but pain from the gunshot he had taken earlier in his bicep coursed through him, causing him to lie back down. Stifling a groan, he laid his head back down and took a deep breath, feeling his body sink deeper into the snow. He watched his breath, trying to draw enough strength to move, stand, or crawl if necessary in order to survive.

He couldn’t give up. He was a survivor. That’s what he was. That’s all he knew how to do.

So, why wasn’t he doing it?

Other than flexing his fingers, he made no other movement. 

What was he fighting so hard for? It wasn’t like anyone would miss him if he just closed his eyes and drifted off.

A brief thought ran through his mind.
Sarah might,
it said.

He snorted. Since when did he lie to himself? Even a sweet lie was still a lie. Sarah wanted nothing to do with him. Not that he could blame her. Very few people did when they found out what he had done for a living or that he was a convicted murderer. As soon as her sister and that detective gave her the low down on his prison record, Sarah had done her best to get away from him, even going as far as giving him a phony story.

She was such a horrible liar. He could hear the fear in her voice as she spoke to him over the phone. He knew without a doubt that she had found out about him.

A part of him was grateful that she finally knew. He had been living in dread of the day she would find out he had lied to her about his past, and now he didn’t have to worry anymore. No longer did he have to worry about walking into the pub where she worked and being surprised to see disappointment or revulsion in her eyes. At least now, she would give up on those ridiculous notions she had about him.

It was for the best
, he thought, as his eyes drifted shut. The truth was bound to come out eventually anyway. It always did.

At least now, he didn’t have to worry about Sarah Love anymore.

Before his mind drifted off, his last thought was that he no longer had to worry about anything.

 

*  *  *

 

Sarah Love looked around her, peering into the dark woods that surrounded her, searching for any sign of Jamie. She turned her attention back to the snow covered ground.

Ever since she hit the edge of the woods, she had been following a set of tracks in the snow. With every step, her fear and worry increased as more and more snow fell, obscuring the footsteps and the light trail of blood leading deeper into the woods.

She struggled through a snow bank, her boots sinking deep into the snow. Again, she called his name as loud as she could and then cocked her head to the side to listen for his response.

Wind whistled through the trees, pushing her hair into her face. Roughly pushing it back, she wished she had thought to bring her hat. She had been in such a hurry to reach Jamie that she didn’t bother with anything but her coat.

She pulled her boot free and climbed up the hill and looked around. She had lost the trail somewhere. Her heart started beating faster as she doubled back, searching for his footsteps in the snow. When she found nothing but her own, she cupped her hands around her mouth and she screamed his name once again.

Her eyes filled with tears as silence greeted her. “Please, Jamie, answer me,” she said, her voice hoarse from the cold and the stress she was placing on her vocal cords. She felt like she had been screaming his name for hours, even though it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, she thought as she glanced back over her shoulder at her grandpa’s house. She could just make out the light from the bedroom windows upstairs.

If he was hurt, he couldn’t have gotten far. She just had to keep moving.

Irritation bubbled up within her as she looked around helplessly. A part of her welcomed the emotion.
Being irritated was better than being afraid
, she thought, wiping away her tears.

It would be just like the man to ignore her. “He’s probably lying out in the snow, dying, but oh no, he can’t ask for help,” she grumbled to herself as she trudged on through the snow. Her leg ached from a serious injury she had received over the summer. Although it slowed her down, she ignored the pain and pressed on, anxious to find Jamie.

She yelped as she stepped into another snowdrift, causing her to sink deep down into the snow up to her knees. She bent over at the waist and planted her gloved hands against the snow. She was just about to pull her boots free when she noticed footprints a few inches away curving around the snowdrift and away from the house.

This time, much larger dark red splashes of blood marred the pristine snow, causing a small whimper of pain to escape from her lips.

She hurriedly crawled out of the snowdrift and followed the footprints as they wound around a frozen stream and headed straight to a dark hunting cabin nestled up ahead.

She saw him then, lying on his back in the snow, unmoving. Her heart constricted in her chest and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. In an instant, she was at his side.

Crying out his name, Sarah tore off her gloves and pressed her hands to his face. She dusted off the snowflakes that had fallen on his face, breathing a sigh of relief when he opened his eyes and lazily gazed up at her with a soft expression on his handsome face.

He smiled up at her as he gently lifted his fingers to trace the slight scar along her cheek. “Since when do angels cry?” His blue eyes sharpened and his smile froze as his fingers came into contact with her skin. A look of panic crossed his face. “Sarah?”

She grabbed his hand as it fell away and held it in her own. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

He grimaced as he looked around. “What are you doing out here?”

She smoothed back the sandy blond hair plastered to his forehead. “I came out to find you.”

“Why?” he asked in bewilderment.

“I was afraid you were hurt,” she said. She set aside the rifle lying on his chest and turned her attention to his body, gently feeling his body for any sign of damage. When she started for his left arm, she stopped, noticing the belt tightly wrapped around his left bicep. Just underneath the belt, was a scarf also tightly wrapped and stained with blood.

She bit her lip as she gazed down at him. “How bad is it?”

“I’ll live. I just need to get somewhere warm.” He glanced at the cabin. “If I can get in there, I’ll be fine.”

Nodding, she gently slid her arm underneath his shoulders and helped him to sit up. She started to rise to her feet but stopped when he silently shook his head. Perspiration beaded across his forehead as he sat there, taking deep breaths.

Sarah touched his shoulder, as she watched him carefully. “Are you okay?”

Screwing his eyes shut, he pressed his hand to his arm. After a moment, he opened his eyes and smiled weakly at her. “Afraid I was going to pass out for a moment.”

Fresh tears sprung to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jamie.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She wiped away a tear. “Yes, it is. You wouldn’t have gotten shot if it weren’t for me.”

“The only person at fault is that monster I killed.”

“Yeah, but if I hadn’t paid you to watch out for me, then you wouldn’t have gotten involved. You could be at home safe and warm in bed. Or maybe if I hadn’t lied to you and had just told you the truth about where I was going tonight all this could have been avoided.”

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess you’re right. It is your fault,” he said teasingly, trying to make her smile. “I should have asked for more money.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “Don’t get greedy. Those food coupons I gave you the other day are worth hundreds of dollars.”

He rolled to his knees, grunting in pain as he did. “I want a raise,” he said softly while on all fours. When he lifted his head and sat back on his haunches, Sarah noticed that his face had turned even paler.

She lifted her fingers up to his forehead, surprised to feel how warm he was. “We need to get you inside. Are you ready?”

Taking a deep breath, he picked his rifle up before wrapping one arm around her shoulder. “Just go slow—”

Sarah suddenly lifted her head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she suddenly stilled.

“Shh.”

“What?”

“Listen.”

She slid out from underneath his arm and rose to her feet. She took a few steps away. “I think I hear a police siren.”

His fingers bit into her wrist, pulling her down. “Where are you going?”

Slipping her head underneath his arm, Sarah wrapped one arm around his waist and helped him stand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you inside the cabin first, and then I’ll run back and get you help.”

He bit his lip to keep from crying out as they moved to the cabin. “The last thing I need is help from the cops.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“What I need is to get somewhere safe.”

“The police—”

“Will arrest me as soon as they see me.”

“But why? You haven’t done anything, Well, except for shooting—” She made a face as she approached the cabin door. “But he tried to kill us.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a felon, out in the woods, holding a rifle. I’m liable to get shot on sight.”

“Then put down the weapon.”

“Ain’t no way that’s happening. Besides, even if they didn’t kill me, it’s a violation of my parole to possess a weapon.”

She tightened her grip around her waist as she helped him up the porch stairs. “Then I’ll tell them it’s mine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the Kentucky State Police or the sheriff or whoever’s out there will make a note of it before throwing me in jail.”

Anger bubbled up inside her. “But you saved us. You’re a hero.”

“Great. Maybe they’ll give me a medal before they revoke my probation.”

She leaned him against the wall before turning and stretching her arms up above her head and reaching for the top of the door. She shivered as a cold gust of wind hit her in the back. Her painfully cold fingers brushed along the door searching for the door key.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the key.”

“You sure it’s up there?”

She brought her arms down and held up the key. “It belongs to my granddad. It used to be his hunting cabin before he retired and built the other house. He rents it out sometimes,” she said, slipping the key into the lock and pushing open the door.

She wrapped her arms around him and helped him into the tiny cabin. She thought about taking him into the bedroom but decided against it as they passed the stone fireplace. Instead, she helped him lie down on the couch, propping his feet up with the couch cushions before turning and tending to the fireplace. Her fingers shook as she attempted to strike the match. Once the fireplace was lit, she ran into the bedroom and pulled off a quilt from the bed that her grandmother had made and hurried back to Jamie.

She covered him up with the quilt and knelt down, reaching for his hands.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she took the rifle from him and laid it against the fireplace.

“We have to get you out of these clothes.” She took off his gloves. Taking his hands, she pressed them together, rubbing them briskly between her own. “You’re soaked to the bone.”

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