The Girl from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 1) by Willis Becki

Author:Willis, Becki [Willis, Becki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clear Creek Publishers
Published: 2014-04-16T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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.

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