Abigail Caine finished loading the crate of wine in the back of her SUV, her ear pressed to her phone. The vehicle made for a good winter vehicle, although she’d considered purchasing a Nissan Rogue like Laurel was driving right now. She didn’t like the way Laurel seemed to be ignoring her again, which made it difficult to sleep. “I’m in the middle of town.”

“If you’re really being threatened, you need to stop shopping and come to my office.” Laurel finally sounded somewhat concerned.

Abigail smiled. Now she didn’t have to take some sort of action to make Laurel see that she needed a sister. It was mildly irking that Laurel was willing to let Huck Rivers in, so to speak, but not her own sister. “Why don’t you come and fetch me?”

Laurel sighed.

Abigail straightened. The snow dropped lazily onto her nose and she wiped it away. It had been snowing all day, slow and methodically, and the roads were becoming impassable. The wind whistled through the deserted parking lot. Most people had taken refuge inside earlier that day. She’d do so with her sister.

“I’m in the middle of something. Come here, and we’ll figure it out together.”

A flake landed on Abigail’s eye, and she blinked it away. A movement behind her in the parking lot had her pausing. Then a strong arm banded around her waist, partially lifting her, and a rag was pressed against her mouth. She dropped the phone to the snow, gasping in air.

The arm around her was strong.

She shoved an elbow back into a male gut, heard a pained hiss, and then pivoted her hips to gain leverage and kicked down, hitting a thigh. The hand shoved the rag into her mouth, and something acidic burned her tongue. She blew out air, trying to dislodge the rag and not to inhale. She kicked furiously back with both speed and strength.

He snarled like an animal in her ear.

Laurel yelled her name from the phone, now in the dirty snow.

The world spun and Abigail kept fighting, her limbs slowing. Her last thought before the darkness forced her arms and legs to go limp was that she’d left her gun beneath the seat. She should’ve carried it into the store. Laurel would have taken her weapon.

Would Laurel find her in time?

The world didn’t completely go silent around her, and she felt the pain of her body being tossed in the back of a truck. Her cheek and hip hit cold metal, and pain filtered through the fuzziness surrounding her like cotton.

Then they were moving. Driving over bumpy ground. The cold and the pain helped to center her, and soon she could move her fingers again. Then her hands. The feeling began to return to her legs. What had he given her? What had been on that rag?