With Maisey?
He bounded down the stairs and straight for the basement.
“I’ll keep the phone for her!” Sandy promised. “Maisey will not like that the screen is broken, that’s for sure.”
Odin shoved open the basement door. “Maisey!”
The scene before him had rage exploding within Odin.
A black pickup truck had been backed into the garage. The passenger door hung open, and some prick in a ski mask was trying to haul Maisey—an unconscious Maisey—toward that open door. “Let her go!” Odin roared.
The guy’s ski-mask-covered head jerked.
A weak moan slid from Maisey. Blood dripped from a scratch on her cheek.
The sonofabitch had hurt her. An inhuman snarl broke from Odin, and he launched forward.
“Crazy bastard!” The ski-mask-wearing man yelled. “Want her? Then take her!” He shoved Maisey toward Odin. Or rather—just shoved her. Because Odin was rushing as fast as he could, but he wasn’t close enough, and Maisey was hurtling straight for the cement.
“No!” he thundered and leapt for her. He caught her inches from the cement and spun so that his arm scraped over the rough floor of the garage. His hold tightened around her. I’ve got you, it’s okay. She was safe. Safe, but barely moving. “Baby?” he brushed back her hair.
He heard the slam of a door. His head whipped up. The SOB who’d tried to take Maisey was in the truck and preparing to rush away. The hell you will.
Odin carefully lowered Maisey to the cement. He saw a long, black pole propped near the wall. He grabbed that pole even as he flew toward the driver’s side of the truck. The wheels squealed. Odin slammed the pole into the door. Into the window.
The truck lunged past him.
He slammed his pole into the left taillight. The light shattered. The truck fish-tailed as it roared away.
“What in the world is going on down here?” Sandy’s voice boomed. “This is a private area, and you don’t get to just run in here whenever you—wait…Maisey? What did you do to Maisey?”
Odin glared after the truck. I will find you, asshole.
A radio crackled. “I need backup!” Sandy ordered. “Humanities building. We’ve got an employee down and—”
Odin grabbed the radio from him. “A black Chevy pick-up truck just left the scene. He’s got a busted left taillight, a cracked driver’s side window, and a dent in the driver’s door. That perp just tried to abduct Maisey Bright, and whatever the hell you do, do not let him leave this campus, do you understand me? Do not.”
“Oh, my.” Sandy gulped. “Oh. My.”
Odin shoved the radio back at Sandy. “Get the cops here.” Not just the campus guards. Then he dropped beside Maisey.
Her eyes were cracking open. A groan slipped from her lips.
Carefully, he smoothed his hand over her cheek. “Baby?” The endearment spilled out. He cleared his throat. “Maisey? You back with me?”
Her lashes fluttered a little more. “Odin?”
His heart shoved into his chest. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
“I…fell down the stairs.”
Sandy sidled closer. “Hate to tell you, but you broke your phone.”
If she’d tumbled down the stairs, she was lucky she hadn’t broken a leg. An arm.
Her neck.
His back teeth clenched. I am going to find that bastard, and he will pay. Quickly, but thoroughly, he did a scan of her body as he searched for injuries.
“Odin? Why are you poking at me?” Maisey asked, all fretful.
“How is your head?” he returned, instead of answering. “You seeing anything odd? Your vision good?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was…on the stairs.”
“And your phone broke,” Sandy supplied.
Not helping.
“Now I’m in the garage.” Maisey’s head turned to the left. To the right. “How did I get down here?” Her voice rose a notch.
Carefully, Odin curled his hand under her chin. “You are safe. I have you. Everything is going to be okay.”
Her hand flew up and her fingers locked around his wrist. “I…I don’t think I was alone on the stairs,” she whispered. Fear filled her gaze.
“No.” He could hear a siren coming closer. Help was on the way. “You weren’t.”
Chapter Six
“Someone tried to kidnap me.” Maisey was having trouble wrapping her head around that whole horrifying situation. “Me. Someone actually tried to kidnap me.”
Her memories were sketchy. She remembered something being off in the stairwell. The door didn’t close. It always clangs closed behind me.
It hadn’t closed because someone had followed her into the stairwell. She’d realized that, then she’d fallen.
Or been pushed? Her money was on being pushed. She took a swift left turn at the edge of her sofa and paced back toward a watchful Odin.
“If you hadn’t been there…” She seriously owed him. “Where would I be right now?” She stumbled. Stopped. “What would be happening to me?” And had this same thing happened to Whitney? When she’d vanished, had she been taken by someone, swiped right from campus only to never be seen again?
Maisey’s hands wrapped around her stomach. An EMT had checked her out. Except for a few bruises and scrapes, he’d said she was good. He’d called her lucky.
Only luck didn’t have a whole lot to do with the matter. She was alive, standing in her house—because Odin had saved her.
“Don’t.” The word was low. Rough. His expression was all dark and broody. Come to think of it, he’d had that same dark and broody expression ever since she’d opened her eyes and seen him in the garage. “Don’t think about what could have happened. That path won’t do you any good.”
Yes, well, she knew the path was a nightmare, but she couldn’t stop her overactive imagination from tumbling right down it. Once she’d been taken away from campus, her abductor could have tied her up. Tortured her. Used a knife or a—
“Maisey.” Odin was right in front of her. She didn’t remember him rising from the chair. Probably because she’d been imagining her own death scene. “You are safe. I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to you while I am—”
She heard a quick jingle. Knew it was the sound of her new motion sensor alerting her to someone at her front door even before the doorbell rang.
Odin’s lips tightened.
“It could be the cops again,” Maisey murmured. They’d said they would follow up after taking her statement on the campus. The black truck had been found—abandoned—in the Engineering parking lot. Campus security had tracked down the student who owned the truck, but she’d been stunned to discover what had happened. Turned out, she’d reported the truck missing a day ago.
The perp had vanished. Switched vehicles, then driven away. Or, heck, maybe even walked away once he’d ditched the ski mask.
“Maybe they have more questions,” she continued as she tried to steady her still racing heartbeat. “Or maybe…” If you wanted to be really positive… “Maybe they caught the guy!”