Carnal Captive

Movement to her left caused her to slow and turn in that direction. For an instant she thought she’d spotted a deer in the dense shadows. Then the survival instinct that had seen her through her childhood kicked into gear.
A man. Standing with his back to a tree. Watching her.
Unease mixed with confusion combined to increase her pace. As she left the watcher in her so-called dust, she concluded he’d been running when the need to pee overtook him. He’d relieved himself behind the tree and had been as surprised to see her as the other way around. She glanced back.
He’d moved onto the trail and was jogging after her. She judged him to be six feet tall and beefy with wide shoulders and a hint of a belly under his sweatshirt. It registered that he didn’t have a runner’s build which begged the question of what he was doing out here.
Even more uneasy, she picked up her pace. If she’d been on a track, she wouldn’t have to pay close attention to where she was going. That necessity kept her from looking behind her again. Besides, she didn’t want him to think he’d unnerved her.
Not that! Definitely not afraid.
Leaving the trees and entering an open area eased her mind. If necessary, she could veer off the trail and head cross-country. No way could the big man keep up. A moment later she chided herself for thinking dark thoughts. She actually considered stopping and waiting for him to catch up so they could chat.
Mist had dampened the ground, making it slippery. She needed to concentrate on her footing.
She was doing that, half losing herself in the memory of the pratfall she’d taken on black ice last winter when a figure appeared ahead of her. This man, leaner and taller than the other, stood straddle-legged in the middle of the path, facing her.
Damn it, what—
“About time you caught up to her,” the man in front said.
Still running, she looked over her shoulder. The first man was trotting toward her. He was far enough away that he didn’t pose a threat, yet there was something deliberate and challenging about his pace. Between that and the solid form in her way, she started to feel trapped.
“I told you I’m no runner,” the man behind her gasped. “Besides, I knew you were there to wrestle with her.”
Wrestle? The woods she’d always felt so comfortable in became a hostile environment. She slowed, careful not to look to the left where she intended to bolt if necessary. “I don’t appreciate this.” She spoke firmly. “The trail’s public. Everyone has equal right to be here.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The man in front walked toward her with one arm at his side and the other in his pocket. “Didn’t your mother warn you about going alone into dark alleys? You never know who might be waiting to get their hands on you.”
Thinking rationally was becoming harder, and with the way her heart pounded, she could barely hear anything else.
“Don’t try running, little lady. We’re not going to let you go. You’re too valuable to us, a cash cow so to speak.” Pulling his hand out of his pocket, the man pointed a small pistol at her. Ice gripped her.
“That’s right.” This came from the man behind her. “And screaming isn’t going to do you any good because the three of us are the only ones out in this damn forsaken place.”
Oh my God! “What do you want?”
“You.”