Free RedemptionRidge by Denise A. Agnew Page B

didn’t I? That you and I would
be together again no matter what.”
    Before she could reply he grabbed her right arm in a
bruising grip that shot pain through her. She gasped and jerked against his
hold.
    He yanked back and she growled with frustration and pain. “God
damn it, Peter! Don’t do this!”
    He dragged her, his grip punishing. “Your time is over.”
    She stumbled and fell to her knees. Her teeth clacked
together painfully.
    “Come on!” He pulled Cecelia to her feet and shoved her
ahead of him.
    The forest seemed alive as the pines swayed in the wind. Her
shoulder-length hair blew across her face, the strands now soaked. The black
polo and khakis she wore wouldn’t keep her warm much longer. At least she wore
athletic shoes. A million thoughts threatened to clog her mind but she shook
them off. She needed clarity. Before she’d always allowed fear to rule her. No
more.
    She couldn’t wait any longer and no one could save her but
herself. No one.
    If he only had a knife she could run. She could outrun him .
She hoped.
    And took a leap of faith.
    She sprang loose, taking him by surprise as she leaped away
and let the wind take her feet. She raced toward the woods only a hundred or so
yards away. Her ankle threatened to give way under the pain but she ignored it.
With daylight still clinging to the stormy skies, rain poured onto her in a
drowning wave. Forks of electricity danced in the skies over and over as if the
storm searched for her. It was as if the heavens had it in for her.
    “Bitch, come back here!”
    A strangled laugh escaped her throat and she choked on it.
As if she would take his command to heart and stop right here to face her
horrible fate with a smile.
    Her feet barely cooperated as she stumbled and righted
herself. The dark woods beckoned. All her past fears of the woods, of storms,
meant nothing under the terrible panic that drove her deeper into the tangled,
tall pines. Pine needles crunched under her feet, their carpet turning slick.
The refreshing scent of cleansing rain couldn’t wash away her fear. Soon it
would be dark, and the thought sent a bolt of fear straight through her. Still,
it would help. In the dark he couldn’t find her.
    “Bitch!”
    Peter’s scream of hate gave her momentum as she crashed into
the tall grasses and almost ran into a huge tree trunk. Hate filled her own
heart for the second between a flash of lightning and the crash of thunder. She
hated Peter Underwood with everything inside her. The ground vibrated as sparks
flew from a tree nearby. She didn’t have time to flinch as branches came loose
and landed in front of her. Momentum carried her as a strangled scream left her
throat. She tripped and landed on the branches with a forceful crash. Her
throat tightened and she couldn’t suck in another breath.
    “I see you!”
    She struggled in the branches and scrambled to her feet but
he was already there, his tall form standing over her in a heartbeat. The knife
came up.
    No. No. It can’t end like this.
    “Stop!” A gunshot pierced the air as a man’s voice echoed
through the woods. “Drop the fuckin’ knife or I’ll blow your head off.”
    Peter whirled toward the voice, his arms going up in
surrender.
    Her mouth popped open, a half scream ready, when she saw the
man come into view. Stunned, she couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
    Even in the hard rain and gathering shadows Jake McNamara
looked like heaven wrapped in salvation. Jake walked toward them rapidly, his
handgun held up as he kept the weapon balanced straight at them.
    “Well would you look who’s here? My wife’s fuck buddy. Mind
your own business, asshole,” Peter said, hands still in the air. “This is
between me and my wife.”
    “Bullshit.” Jake’s voice was throaty and deep, a rasp as
cruel as sandpaper. “Drop the knife.”
    “What, are you a cop?”
    Jake moved closer, each step determined and without
hesitation. “Drop it.”
    Her ex let the knife fall from his