Tilly obeyed, wondering what the rope was for. She found out when he made a noose with it and slipped it over her head before reclaiming his belt. He gave the thin nylon cord a tug. ‘You’ve got the idea. Slide the jack under ’n’ get the brace on the lugs.’ Dragging his bad leg, he hauled himself around the vehicle, keeping up the pressure on the rope as she followed his instructions, her hopes of freedom dashed. He kept the noose tight enough to prevent her yanking it free, and she feared his reaction if she dared escape and failed. Would he tie her up, or simply throttle her into submission? She clung to the hope that he still needed her, for his leg hung like a dead limb and the slightest movement brought a curse to his lips.

In the gathering darkness, he wrenched at the wheel lugs, teeth bared with effort, and eventually made her jump on the brace to loosen them. Tilly spun it out, deliberately losing her balance to slow the process for the onset of night gave her hope. If she could grab a tool, the jack-handle say . . . but he was too careful for that. Once the lugs were loosened, he made her lie down behind the wheel, then made his own careful descent beside her, the rope doubled around his fist as he laboriously wound the handle, raising the tyre.

Job completed, he lay panting, his eyes momentarily screwed shut. Tilly’s hand crept towards the noose as she inched her head closer to his body to gain what slack she could, but as if her held breath had warned him, his eyes snapped open just as a voice called, ‘Stay where you are, Mercer,’ and a torch beam split the darkness around them.

Tilly gasped, recognising Connor’s voice, but Matt’s reflexes were lightning fast. Before she could move, he had rolled his body on top of hers and his hands were at her throat. She struggled furiously, trying to cry out but she got no further than ‘Con—’ before the strangling rope cut her off.

‘Back off, Doyle!’ The words were snarled almost into her ear as they lay in a quasi-sexual embrace, his weight pinning her top half. She was choking, her lungs starving for the air that came in minuscule sips through her tortured throat. ‘Get that bloody light outta my face,’ Matt yelled. ‘Put it on ’ers. See that? Want me to yank it tighter? Back off or I will.’