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Silence. A silence broken only by the patter of the rain, and then he heard a small voice.

“Chayton?”

Chay stepped forward.

“Bianca…”

“Don’t come in,” she screamed. “Chayton! Don’t—”

She gave a muffled cry just as the lights blazed on.

For a second, Chay was blinded.

Then everything inside him turned to ice.

Bianca, his beloved Bianca, stood ten feet away.

A man stood right behind her. He had one arm wrapped around her throat.

A knife was in his hand, a long, curved, vicious-looking knife.

The blade rested right across her jugular, and a single drop of blood gleamed like a ruby against her skin.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jesus Christ!

Chay had been trained in hand-to-hand combat. Well-trained. Trained to be deadly, but not like this, not with all the odds against him.

Not with the woman he loved as a maniac’s captive.

Bianca’s attacker had everything he needed.

The element of surprise. The light blazing into Chay’s eyes. A weapon that could do fatal damage in one single swipe.

Bianca’s eyes were wide with fear.

And she was gasping.

Her attacker had dragged her onto her toes. Her hands were clutching his arm in a desperate effort to gain breathing room, but her assailant wasn’t about to lessen his hold on her.

Just the opposite.

The more she struggled, the higher he lifted her.

Her gasps became pants.

She needed air.

If she passed out, if she sagged onto that blade, it would slice through her flesh.

Chay worked at sounding calm.

“Easy, baby,” he said softly. He raised his gaze to her attacker’s face. “I’m sure this—this gentleman doesn’t really want to hurt you.”

The guy laughed.

Chay knew he would remember the chilling sound of that laugh forever.