The Girl from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 1) (16 page)

She hadn’t expected the fall to hurt as
badly as it did. She landed with a bone-jarring thud, rattling the teeth in her
head and compressing every joint in her body. The force of the sudden stop
knocked the breath from her lungs, as tears pricked her eyes.

For a long moment, she simply lay there,
wondering if she had just killed herself. When she reasoned that she was in too
much pain to be dead, she gingerly tried to move. One leg screamed in protest,
but both moved when she shuffled them. She had landed on her side, the pillow
crunched up in front of her. So much for softening the blow. Makenna moved her
neck and rolled her head, hearing joints crackle and pop all down her spine.
With her breath now restored, she couldn’t stop the low moan of pain that
escaped. Every part of her body ached, including her lips; nothing like a
second floor fall to awaken even deadened nerves.

She allowed herself the luxury of
another twenty seconds, then she pulled herself up on raw palms and scraped
knees. Keeping hunched over to make herself as low to the ground as possible,
she glanced up at the window and was relieved to see no sign of movement behind
the almost-closed glass pane.

She stepped a few feet away from the
window and promptly tumbled down a steep incline.

This time, the pillow offered a modicum
of protection as she buried her face into it and rolled clumsily down the side
of the hill. She thrashed her way through damp, stale leaves and the painful
pricks of a thousand twigs. Vines and briers tugged and ripped at her clothes.
She rolled over rocks and let out a painful “woof” as a particularly sharp
stone gouged into her side. She was rolling freestyle, at times head over
heels, at times sideways, and at one point skidding on her back.

After the longest and most painful seven
seconds of her life, she lost her momentum and began to decelerate. Slow motion
was so much worse than the mind-numbing flash of her rapid descent. She heard
herself whimper in fright as she rolled to a stop, just inches from a tree.

Again, she lay still as she assessed the
damage to her body. Makenna lifted bloodied palms that stung like the devil. As
she picked out a small stick embedded in one palm, she noticed more blood
trickling down her arm from the other direction. Her shirt was ripped near the
elbow, revealing a gash in her battered skin. She checked her head for major
lumps and bumps, finding only a few small cuts but an abundance of leaves and
twigs tangled in her auburn curls. Her left leg protested movement and
somewhere along the way, she had lost a shoe. Instinctively she reached for the
purse worn across her body and panicked when she only felt a leather strap. Had
it broken loose? She tugged, until finally the strap reversed itself and her
purse slid back in place, tucked against her chest once more. Tears of relief
stung her eyes when she felt her cell phone, safe and sound in its zippered
pouch.

A glance up at the condo told her there
was still no movement. Feeling momentarily safe beneath the trees at the bottom
of the ravine, Makenna lay there on her back for a few more moments and
gathered her wits. Then she held the phone above her and dialed Hardin’s number
with bloodied, bruised, and trembling fingers.

“Kenzie!” he barked into the phone.
Hearing the mixture of relief and worry and anger in his voice was her undoing.
Tears streamed down her face as he demanded, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve
been trying to reach you all morning! Are you all right?” 

“N-N-No,” she managed to wail. “Hardin,
you’ve got to help me!”

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up,
just tell me where you are.” His first instinct was to fix the problem,
whatever it was. Almost as an afterthought, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Every-Everything. I’m sorry I doubted
you, Hardin, I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you. But she said all those bad
things about you, and you had a gun.” She knew she was blabbering, but she
couldn’t help the tears that tumbled down her cheeks and pooled in the tangled
mess that was her hair. Her heart sank all the way to her backbone as she
realized how foolish she had been to doubt the strength and goodness of the
man. He had offered help and security, and she had believed the worst of him.

“I don’t really know what you’re talking
about, but that’s not important right now. Just tell me where you are and I’ll
come get you.” She could hear him up and moving, already in action.

“I-I’m at the Lewises. Or I was. I
escaped.”

“Escaped!”

Rolling onto her side, Makenna knew the
longer she stayed there, the more danger she was in. Holding on to the tree
trunk for support, she managed to pull herself up with only one small cry of
pain.

“Kenzie! Are you all right?” he
demanded, hearing the yelp through the phone.

“Yes. No. I-I’m not sure. Listen, I’m in
the woods behind their hotel, near the creek, the one that runs all the way to
our hotel. I’ll come to you. It’s not safe to stay here.” She was already
limping her way toward the access road.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but stay
low, like we did at the Falls,” he instructed. “Keep along the creek, under the
cover of trees when you can. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“Go by my room. Get my camera. And bring
me some shoes.” She winced as she stepped on a rock. She looked down at her
friend’s pants, now ripped and stained and ruined. “And pants.”

“Damn, girl, what happened?”

“Long- ouch!- long story.” A stick
jabbed through the thin protection of her sock and ripped the sole of her foot.
“Just hurry.”

“I’m on my way.”

She kept low, limping her way from one
stand of trees to the next. Movement was slow and painful, but Makenna dared
not stop, for fear they would catch her. She felt marginally better when the
Lewis’ resort was out of eyesight, but she still had a long way to go to reach
Hardin, and she would soon be out of cover. Just ahead, the trees thinned out
around a bridge and a large expanse of rocky terrain. There would be no chance
of staying hidden once she reached the open space.

Makenna pulled her phone out again and
dialed Hardin’s number.

“I’m almost there,” he said by way of
greeting.

“I-I’ve got to stop,” she panted. “I’ll wait
here by the bridge. Honk when you come up.”

“See you in less than two minutes.”

A fallen log provided a much-needed
place to rest. If only for a minute and a half, the meager break was long
overdue. Makenna winced as she lowered herself onto her bruised bottom. She
ached all over, but her left leg was screaming in pain. She rested in the
shadow of the concrete bridge until she heard two short beeps of a car horn.
Relief flooded through her when she saw the black pickup slam to a stop. She
struggled back to her feet, almost stumbling when she put weight on her left
leg.

Hardin’s handsome face was already
creased in a scowl at the sight of her disheveled appearance. Sticks and stems
and dried leaves poked from all directions of her unruly locks. Her pants were
muddy and torn, revealing one skinned knee and part of the other thigh. She
wore a purple oxford shirt that was torn on one arm and missing a few buttons.
Now was not the time to notice the pink bra with its black lace trim. Mud and
blood were smeared across her face, arms, and hands. One foot sported a shoe,
the other a toe-less sock. 

“Damn, sweetheart, what happened? You
look terrible!” he said, jumping from the truck. 

“Is that your best pick-up line?” she
asked weakly.

As she flung herself into his arms, he
caught her and gathered her close. His voice was rough with relief as he
teased, “It worked, didn’t it?” He squeezed her tightly, until she yelped in
protest. Releasing her immediately, he assessed her condition. “You need
medical attention.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“Come on, I’ll carry you.” He bent to
put his arms under her knees, but she swatted them away.

“No! No, I’m too heavy for you to carry.
Just let me lean on you, I can make it.”

He held her by the waist as she hobbled
her way around the front of the truck. “Taking a nap along the way?” he asked,
nodding to the pillow she still clutched to her.

“Thought it would soften the fall.”

Judging from the grimace on her face
when she tried to step up into the pickup, Hardin guessed it hadn’t worked. He
took matters into his own hands and bodily lifted her inside the vehicle. Too
weak to protest, Makenna allowed him to deposit her in the seat. He shut her
door and was back behind the wheel before she could draw a deep and painful
breath.

She glanced into the back seat and saw
Kenzie’s camera and most of her luggage, as well as two pieces of his own. Seeing
her line of vision, he apologized. “I got what I could, but I had to leave some
of it. I only had time for one trip.”

She nodded in understanding. “Where will
we go?”

“The mountains.”

Makenna frowned. “We’re in the
mountains.”

“We’re on the side of the mountain.
We’re going
in
,” he said, pointing to the dense mass of trees that
cloaked the hillsides. “Do you think they’ve noticed you’re gone yet?”

“I-I don’t know. I hope not.”

“If we can make it to the cut-off road
without them seeing us, we’re good.” He didn’t bother saying what would happen
if they didn’t. He looked over at her again, wincing at all the scrapes and
cuts and blood he saw. “There’s a bottle of water and some napkins in the
console. You can clean up some of those cuts while you tell me what happened.”

She reached for the bottle, smearing it
with blood.

“Cup your hands and hold them out in
front of your legs,” he said, taking the bottle and opening it with one hand.
He somehow managed to watch the road, the rear view mirror, and her, all at the
same time. “It’s going to sting, but it’s the fastest way. Don’t worry about
the floorboard.” He dribbled water into her cupped hands with more finesse than
expected, given they were traveling at a high rate of speed. 

Makenna tried not to cry out when the
cold water splashed into the many nicks and cuts that covered her raw palms.
She rubbed her hands together gently, letting the red tinted water fall onto
the floorboard. They repeated the process once more before she signaled it was
enough.

“Our turn is right up here,” he said,
handing the bottle over into her cleaned hands. Fresh blood seeped from a few
of the deeper scratches, but the worst of it had washed away. They were nearing
the resort she had escaped from, but several hundred feet before the entrance
on the right, Hardin took a road that led off to the left. Makenna watched
behind them, making certain they weren’t followed. So far, so good.

“I never noticed this road before,” she
admitted. If it had a road sign, she had missed it. She finally turned back
around in the seat and surveyed the simple mountain road they traveled down.
“How do you know where to go?”

“That buddy of mine I told you about who
used to live here? He still has a cabin in the woods. I called him this
morning, and he said we could use it.” Watching the road with one eye, Hardin
fiddled with his phone. “He sent me directions.”

Pouring water onto a folded napkin and
dabbing it onto her cheek, Makenna used the visor mirror to clean her face. Her
cheek was already beginning to swell above an angry red scratch that grazed the
bottom of her jawline. Bags under one eye looked puffy and dark, and the other
eye sported red where it should have been white. More scratches clawed their
way down her throat and disappeared into the pink of her bra, which she
belatedly noticed was on display. Tugging her button-less shirt together, she
was reminded of the gash near her elbow. The sleeve of her shirt was soaked
with blood and she soaked another two napkins before the flow finally stopped.
But of all her aches and scrapes, her leg hurt the worst.

“Tell me what happened,” Hardin said
impatiently, setting the phone on the seat where he could glance at it
occasionally.

She knew she owed him an apology, front
and center. “I’m sorry, Hardin. It’s my fault for believing Lisa. I-I should
have trusted you. And I should have trusted my instincts. All along, I thought
you were so nice, so likable. And something about them just felt off. I should
have listened to my own heart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That night we got back from the
mountains, Lisa was waiting for me at the hotel. She-She told me some things
about you. I found them hard to believe, but she gave me the woman’s number.
And when I called her, she sounded so sincere, so convincing…”

“What woman?”

“Cara Sims. She said- she said the two
of you had been living together, she said you started off all sweet and
charming and kind, but that you changed. Got possessive. Abusive.” Makenna
watched his face for signs of anger. Instead, she saw sadness. She quickly
defended herself. “I’m sorry, Hardin. I shouldn’t have listened to her, I
shouldn’t have believed her. But she described you so well, and she sounded so
truly frightened. I-I trusted the wrong people. You’ve been nothing but kind to
me, and I believed the worst.”

“At least that explains the cold
shoulder I got,” he murmured. “I was beginning to think it was my kissing
technique.”

He was being kind again, infusing humor
into a tense situation to make her feel better. “You’re an excellent kisser,
and you know it,” she told him honestly. “And I’m sorry I doubted you. Deep
down, I knew you weren’t that kind of man, I knew you were honorable and
decent, but I - I guess I just got scared.”

Hardin reached over and took her hand,
which she latched on to greedily. “For the record,” he said, seeking out her
eyes, “I’ve never lived with a woman.”

“Good to know,” she murmured, filing the
information away for future use. 

“And I would never - ever - hurt a woman
physically. Any man who beats on a woman is no man at all. But I can understand
how you would believe what she had to say. It’s good that you’re cautious.
These days, a woman has to be. But that still doesn’t explain what happened.”

“This morning, Cara Sims called me.”

“That’s the name you asked me about
before. I swear, I’ve never heard of the woman.”

Makenna waved away his frown. “I know.
Anyway, first thing this morning she called me, all hysterical. Said some men
came to her house, looking for you. She said you owed them a lot of money, hinted
you were involved with the mob. About that time, you started calling me, and
texting me. And yes, I was inside when you came to the door,” she admitted
sheepishly. She could see the displeasure on his face, but mostly she saw the
hurt. She squeezed his hand, trying to make him understand. “I know, I know. I
was an idiot. But I was scared. You were calling every five seconds, and it fit
in so well with an abusive, possessive personality. I didn’t know what to do,
so I called Lisa.” She blew out a breath, blanching when the action hurt. “Huge
mistake,” she muttered derisively.

They came to a simple intersection
without stop signs or street names. Hardin extricated his hand from hers and
turned the truck to the right. The altitude was already beginning to rise and
this road was narrower, and obviously less traveled. Here and there a driveway
hinted at a dwelling nearby, and occasionally a road jutted off into the woods,
leading further into the wilderness. The pickup truck traveled steadily on,
following the thin ribbon of asphalt up the mountainside.

“The first hint of something wrong was
the gray Honda parked at their resort.” Makenna continued with her story as she
cleaned her scraped knee. “Ouch. The second hint was the rental agreement I
found on their coffee table for said gray Honda. Bob is from Chicago, by the
way, not Texas. The poison they slipped into my water didn’t bode well,
either.”

“Poison?” he asked sharply.

Makenna discovered that it hurt to
shrug. “Poison, sleeping pills, something. It was enough to make my lips go
numb, and enough to knock me out for several hours, if I drank it like they
thought. I poured it out, pretended to be suddenly very drowsy, and asked to
lie down.”

“Smart girl,” he said with approval, his
blue eyes twinkling.

“I could overhear them talking. I-I’m
not sure, but there may have been another man in the other room.” She frowned,
just realizing that fact. “Bob’s voice sounded funny a couple of times, so
maybe it was a third person. And would you believe that irritating voice isn’t
Lisa’s real voice? Or maybe it was real, and the other voices were the fake
ones. She sounded different when she made a telephone call to someone and told
them she had me ‘in confinement’. She said she had taken care of you for the
moment, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. Then she started talking in Cara
Sims’ voice, and I knew it had been her all along.” She pushed her fingers
through her hair, which immediately snagged in the jumbled curls. As she worked
on untangling the ends and freeing them of sticks and leaves, Makenna finished
her story of escape. “She told the person on the other end to let her know when
they were ready for me. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I wasn’t
hanging around to find out. Bob came in once more to make sure I was truly
asleep, and then I opened the window and sneaked out.”

“Ground floor?”

“No such luck. I think my ankle joints
are now location in my shoulders, and all my teeth have rattled loose. I landed
a lot harder than I thought I would. Just when I realized I hadn’t died in the
fall, I stepped off a huge incline and tumbled all the way down to the creek.
For a few minutes there, I thought death might have hurt less.” She rolled her
neck and shoulders, and even Hardin could hear them crackle. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t break
something.”

“The jury’s still out on that one,” she
murmured, gingerly moving her left leg so she could see it better. She had a
fairly decent view of the swelling beneath the ripped denim. 

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”
His foot faltered on the gas pedal as he peered at her sharply.

“No, I don’t think anything is actually
broken. Bumped and bruised and sprained and swollen, but not broken. I hope.”

“Kenzie, if you’re hurt that bad, we’re
going back down,” he said firmly.

“If we go back down, we’ll both be hurt
bad. As long as this cabin we’re going to has hot water, I’ll survive. Let me
soak for three or four hours and I’ll be good as new.”

The truck hit a deep rut in the pavement
and lurched sideways. Makenna discovered new bruises on her backside, and when
she grabbed for the dash, the sudden movement re-opened the gash at her elbow.
Fresh blood trickled down her arm, but it was the throbbing in her leg that
caused her breath to catch in her chest.