Part of her wanted to take a bullet instead of allowing him to cut into her brain—except the sudden thought that, no matter what happened to her, by some miracle her baby might survive and be rescued one day, if only she stuck around long enough to finish carrying it, kept her from getting too reckless.

She could choose death over the life she’d have with Bishop for herself, but she couldn’t make that choice for her child.

She struggled to speak despite a hoarse throat that hurt when she tried to talk. “Just … get it over with. Maybe if I don’t have my brain, I won’t want to puke every time you touch me.”

He blinked, obviously shocked by the vitriol in her words. “You’re vile! The worst kind of whore!” he cried, and disappeared for several seconds.

Evelyn closed her eyes as she heard him rummaging in the glove compartment. She wanted her last thought to be of Amarok, to be the memory of the love and fulfillment he’d provided.

As Bishop returned with the ice pick, she wished she could touch her belly, try to reassure her unborn child in some small way. Or say good-bye. “Will you promise me one thing?” she asked dully.

Taken aback by the calm in her voice, he hesitated. “What?”

“If I don’t make it, will you try to save my child?”

He scowled at her. “Of course. I want it to live, too,” he replied gruffly.

The van swayed as he climbed inside, and the terror Evelyn thought she’d vanquished rose inside her again. “Aren’t you going to knock me out?”

“With what? The hammer you tried to use on me? That could do even more damage—damage I can’t control as well.”

“What did you give me before?”

“Some sleeping pills I took from Beacon Point—the ones they gave me every night. But they will take too long to kick in. I only need a few minutes.” He straddled her, taking care to sit on her chest and not on the baby, as if he were doing her a big favor by having that much consideration.

She considered bucking him off. But he’d only begin to beat her again, and if he got too vicious she wouldn’t survive. That meant the baby wouldn’t, either.

Tears ran into the hair at her temples as she saw the sharp point of the ice pick coming toward her. And, even though she told herself not to, she couldn’t help screaming.

Between Anchorage and Fairbanks, AK—Thursday, 2:43 a.m. AKDT

Amarok didn’t have time to plan anything that might draw Bishop away from the van or help him recover Evelyn without a dangerous confrontation. He’d barely reached the area where the van was parked when he saw Bishop get into the back of it and heard Evelyn cry out.

Was he raping her? Killing her? Hurting their baby?

Making a motion with his hand, he let Makita know to stay back.

The dog obeyed as Amarok rushed from the trees he’d been using to cover his approach. He didn’t have much of a plan. There wasn’t time to set up anything. He could only bang on the side of the vehicle to startle Bishop and, hopefully, draw his attention away from Evelyn.