บททั้งหมดของ Solid Heart (Unseen Enemy 7): บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Mark, Dallas, King, and Ian hoisted their backpacks, checked their infrared goggles and guns one last time. It was getting really dark now, and the wind was picking up, but none of them noticed.They were about two miles away from Delacroix’s cabin… and hopefully, two miles away from Francine.They started walking, sticking to the marked paths as much as possible, following the GPS directions on King’s satellite phone to a ‘t’. The last thing anybody needed was for them to get lost in the dense forest. They were the damn rescue mission – no way they were going to get themselves into any kind of trouble if they could help it.King led the way, moving quickly and quietly despite his massive size and weight, and the other men found themselves emulating his movements. The man was a natural predator, they saw, and here in the wild, he was totally in his element. Tracking, hunting, trapping: Henri Delacroix was his prey and to a man, they knew that he didn’t have a chance of hiding from Kin

No goddamn way she was going back in there. She’d seen her fair share of horror movies, watched the idiot characters run upstairs instead of out the front door, watched the heroines pull too-stupid-to-live moves like going back to the ‘dead’ body, only to get grabbed around the ankle.She’d take her chances on foot before she’d go anywhere near him, ever again. Maybe he was dead, maybe he wasn’t… but she wasn’t going back in there to check out the situation.Fuck. That.Her mind made up to head down the mountain and find a main road, she wrapped the towel around her soaked hair, stuffed her bare feet into her boots, and grabbed Henri’s massive, thickly-lined coat, lifted the hood, found his gloves. She saw a flashlight on the kitchen counter, ran over to get it. She checked it, saw that the beam was strong and steady. She flicked it off, turned, and dashed back across the living room, headed for the door.She almost made it. She was so damn close: her hand on the door handle, her feet

Voices. Faint, distant, blurry. But definitely voices. One in particular seemed especially familiar, and Francine strained to hear what was being said.“But why isn’t she waking up?” said the familiar voice. “It’s been two fucking days!”“That’s not unusual,” said a female voice that Francine didn’t know at all. “She’s completely exhausted and her mind has shut her body down, so she can start to cope with everything that happened. She’ll wake up soon.”“You said that yesterday!” the first voice said. “What does ‘soon’ even mean to you?”“Mark.” Another male voice, a deep one with a drawl. “Calm down, man. You’re no good to Francine when you’re freaking out, OK?”Mark! Francine fought to open her eyes, struggled to sit up, or even just to move, but she couldn’t do it. Her whole body felt like it was encased in concrete: heavy, immobile, rock-solid. She tried to speak, or even to make a sound – God, just a tiny sound, come on now – but her throat wasn’t working, either. So she lay there

He went very still. “I wish I could, but I’m way too big. If I got in there with you, I’m afraid that you wouldn’t be comfortable… and you need your sleep.”“I need you,” Francine said, her voice shaking. “I need you to hold me. Please.”He looked at her for a long, long moment, and he must have seen how close she was to tears, how close she was to the edge of hysteria, because he stood up. He slipped off his boots, lifted the heavy blankets off her body. She shivered when the air hit her skin, and right away, he slid in next to her, turned on his side, covered them both up. She was sandwiched between the wall and his huge body, and the feeling of security was almost overwhelming.Mark pulled her to him, cradling her like she was breakable, like she was the most precious thing that he’d ever held. His one arm was tucked under her pillow, the other was curled around her waist, and Francine automatically cuddled closer, her hands on his broad chest. His strength was immense, even all co

Three nights laterMark and Francine were in her bed, curled up together, wearing pyjamas and socks. Mark was between her and the door, his broad back facing the hallway. He physically created a barrier to her; he physically built a wall around their little world.Two days before, she’d asked him to move her bed against the wall. Without a word, without a single question or comment, he’d done it. He knew that she needed to be snug between his body and the wall, knew that she needed it to feel secure. And all that Mark cared about right this minute was making Francine feel secure.It seemed to be working, thank Christ. At this moment, Francine was relaxed, more relaxed than Mark had seen her since this whole fucking nightmare had started. He stroked her hair, felt her smile against his chest.“How you doing?” he asked.She tipped back her head to regard him in the dim light that was coming in through the mostly-closed door. His eyes blazed down at her, worried, caring, still angry. Wha