Something made a slight noise from the woods. Bill jerked awake instantly, rolled onto his stomach, and leveled his gun in the direction the sound had originated from. Shocked, Trisha stared at him. A bird flew from a tree in that direction. The man on his stomach sighed and rolled back over and glared at her.

“I’m a light sleeper. Quit sighing. I’m getting sick of it.” He closed his eyes again and rested the gun back across his chest.

He can’t really be sleeping. Trisha stared at his chest, watched it rise and fall slowly. The sound the bird had made had been so slight she’d barely heard it but the man at her feet jerked as though something had charged at him. He’d even pointed his weapon toward the right direction. If he faked sleeping then he knew about any sound she made. Her glimmering hope of escape dwindled. She would have been better off if they’d left Tom with her. A man gawking at her br**sts seemed an improvement over having been tied so uncomfortably to a tree.

* * * * *

Pain jerked her awake and she groaned. Her body sagged, all her weight on her wrists, and it hurt. Trisha fought tears. She put all her weight onto her feet and rose to her toes. It eased all tension from her wrists and the blood flowed back into her arms while she studied the sky. She’d been tied to the tree most of the day. The sun had lowered in the sky. She looked at the man on the ground to find him staring back at her. She couldn’t tell for sure but she thought his attention fixed on her stomach.

“You’re awake,” she noted softly. “Can I sit down now? Please?”

He sat up and watched her face, frowning until he lowered the gun to the ground next to the sleeping bag and rose to his feet. He walked away from her to the tent. Trisha lifted her chin up to stare at the sky. Bastard. He had to know she was hurting and uncomfortable. She needed to use the bathroom again too. She heard him coming back and darted a glance at the walkie-talkie gripped in one hand.

“Bill here,” he spoke. “Base?”

“Hey, Bill,” a male answered through the small speaker. “Report.”

“We haven’t found them yet.” Bill watched Trisha and he put his finger to his mouth motioning her to be quiet. “We’re in section twenty-two. Anyone else have any luck?”

“Not so far,” the voice was static-ridden. “You are way out there.”

“Aren’t there other guys this way?”

“Nope. You’re it. How come Tom isn’t calling in?”

“He’s taking a crap. The kid is green. We’ll call back and report in the morning. Over and out.” He turned the walkie-talkie off.

“They haven’t found your animal friend yet.” He dropped the walkie-talkie onto the pillow. “I’m rested now and ready for action. I wanted to make sure no one else was in the area and now I’m sure it’s just us.”

Trisha’s stomach churned as she swallowed. She didn’t feel at ease with the way he’d said that or the way his gaze roamed her body. His lecherous look slowly rose until he met her fearful expression.

“You’re a good-looking woman. You’re one of those bleeding-heart, animal-rights bitches, aren’t you? You love animals, little girl?” He reached down and unfastened his belt, his gaze locked with hers. “I didn’t want Tom staying with you because the kid doesn’t know what to do with a woman.”

“Oh God,” Trisha moaned, watching him pull his belt free of his pants loops as he fisted the buckle in his hand. Her gaze flew to his. “Whatever you are thinking about, please don’t do it.”

“Shut up or I’ll take this belt to you. I hate screaming. Do you understand me? You don’t need a tongue to fix Pat when Tom drags his stupid ass back here. He’s an idiot and I’m sure we’ve got a few hours before they return. He couldn’t find his own ass without someone directing him to it. I’ll cut out your tongue if you scream.”

Bill dropped the belt onto the sleeping bag and reached down. He pulled a long, sharp hunting knife from his right boot. He glanced at it and let his finger trace over one side of the two-sided blade. The back side had a serrated edge. The blade had to be ten inches long. Trisha stared at it in horror. He lifted his head to give her a cold smile.

“Say you’re a bitch who is a bleeding-heart, animal-rights moron. Just that way.”

She shook with terror. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She yanked hard on her wrists, frantic, but the bandanas held. She tried to back up but the tree had no give in it.

“Say ‘I’m an animal-loving, bleeding-heart bitch who is a moron’,” he demanded softly. “Right now.”

“I’m an animal-loving, bleeding-heart bitch who is a moron,” Trisha whispered.

A smile cracked his lips. “That’s a good girl.” He took a step closer as he gripped the hunting knife with his fist. He reached and grabbed the waist of her slacks and his head lifted.

“Kick off your shoes.”

“I have to use my hands to get them off,” she lied. Her voice shook.

“Kick them off now or…” He brought the blade closer until the tip of the knife touched her breast and pushed the knife until it indented the area just under her nipple. “I figure I could slide this in at least three inches before I hit bone.”

“Oh my God,” Trisha gasped, total panic gripping her. “All right.” She used one foot to grip the back of the other shoe and pushed down. Her shoe came off. She switched, using her toes, and got the second shoe off.