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Jake lifted him back onto the couch and felt his head the same way he’d seen Samantha do earlier that morning. Dammit. The kid was burning up.
    “Samantha,” Jake pulled the switchblade out of his pocket and ran to the bedroom.
    Samantha crawled onto the pillows, tugging wildly at her bindings. Fear deep in her wide eyes, she shook her head.
    With one swift lunge of the blade, he sliced the ties holding her to the bed. Pulling the gag out of her mouth, he dragged her to the living room.
    “Nicky is burning up with fever. You have to do something.” He pointed the knife at her. “Do not let him die, lady.”
     
     
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Sami stared at the light gleaming off the blade in front of her. Once she raised her eyes to Jake’s the panic that threatened to rear its ugly head in her once more, faded. In his eyes she read the anguish she’d seen so many times before in family members of critically ill patients. Desperate parents or guardians would do anything, say anything, promise anything, or threaten anyone to help save their child’s life.
    She knew, because once she’d done all those things, too. Even though she’d known there was no hope for her daughter, Aimee, she'd done them anyway. All the pleading had done nothing. Raging against heaven and earth yielded no miracles. Even searching every known treatment, no matter how bizarre, did not save her daughter.
    She couldn't save Aimee, but she could help Nicky.
    “Calm down, Jake. Let’s see how bad it is.” She felt the boy’s head. Without a thermometer, it was hard to tell how high his temperature was. Sweat poured off the poor boy. “Nicky? Can you hear me?”
    “He didn’t answer me when I called him. Don’t just sit there, do something.”
    Sami ignored the barely leashed anger in Jake’s voice.
    “Get me some cold water. A large pan full, and put ice in it.” She lifted the boy’s eyelids. His pupils reacted to the light. Good. “It’s okay, Nicky. Jake and I are going to make you feel better soon. Hang in there.”
    She hurried to her bathroom closet, grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol, several wash cloths and three big towels. When she knelt beside Nicky, Jake returned with the pan of ice water.
    Sami poured the alcohol into the water, soaked the wash cloths in the mixture, then opened Nicky’s clothes. Squeezing out two cloths, she handed them to Jake. “Put these on any part of his skin not bandaged.”
    He dropped the towels back in the bowl. “That’s damn cold. It’ll make him shiver even more, See?” He pointed to Nicky.
    “Yes, and if his temperature gets too high, his brain will literally cook.  A cold alcohol bath is the quickest way to get his temp down and keep that from happening.” She squeezed a small towel out once again and handed it to him. “I may not like you for barging into my life, but I certainly wouldn’t do this boy any harm to get even with you.”
    For a moment he studied her as if she might do just that. She waited patiently.  Something, perhaps the calm way she spoke to him in the same voice she used for uncooperative patients or doctors, convinced him she knew what she was talking about.
    “Okay, we’ll do it your way,” he said, laying the cloth on Nicky’s forehead. “It just better work.”
    From the threat in his voice, she prayed it did, too.
    While Jake did as she asked, Sami pulled off Nicky's drenched pants. She laid more wet cloths on his legs, then turned to repeat the process on his arms. She pulled off his shirt. The rope burn marks on his wrists stopped her short.
    "They tied him up to torture him?”
    Jake didn't even flinch. “I tried to protect the kid. He kept helping me, even when I asked him not to. They got to him before I could get him to safety.”
    "Who did? Why would anyone want to torture a little boy?” Sami could only stare at him.
    Jake swept his hand over his face. “The less you know, the better off you’ll be when we leave, Samantha."
    "You know