Her Cowboy Protector by Roxie Rivera

in the ribs.
    So far, she'd only used the internet to do a morning and evening check of newspapers across the state and in Mexico. She scoured the posts for any news of Carlos, the Reynosa and De La Garza cartels and any sort of crimes that looked like they could have been committed by El Alacrán.
    Her hand stilled over the mouse. How long before he finds me? She'd been lulled into a sense of security with Niall, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was only a matter of time. After the attack, she'd worked up the courage to Google the assassin who had so viciously assaulted her that night. What she'd discovered had been stomach churning images of pure evil.
    And I’m next. Cruz felt it in her bones. Sometimes, the fine hairs on the back of her neck and along her arms would stand on end as if electrified. She could almost feel the cold kiss of that long blade he'd held against her throat. This time he wouldn't taunt her. This time he would follow through with his threats. He'd string her up and slit her throat.
    And steal the baby.
    Cruz hadn't dared to speak aloud her deepest, darkest fear, the one that kept her awake at night and left her nauseated and chilled. She'd grown almost superstitious, certain that if she voiced aloud what she feared, it would come true.
    Neither Niall nor Carlos had been brave enough to mention it but she knew they had to be thinking the same thing. There was no other explanation for The Scorpion letting her live so long. Before he'd left that night, he'd warned her he was coming back. She hadn't ever been able to bring herself to repeat the words he'd spoken to anyone else. The filthy, violent things he'd said were so disturbing. He'd admitted then that she was too perfect to kill. He'd wanted seconds and maybe thirds.
    In those first few weeks after leaving the hospital, she'd waited for him. She'd felt his presence like a black storm cloud hovering on the horizon so threatening and ominous. More than anything, Cruz feared the possibility he would get his vile hands on her son.
    Refusing to consider that nightmare scenario a moment longer, Cruz turned her attention to Niall's accounts. What she needed was a ranch management program. Something inside her head perked. She pushed out of her chair, picked up her backpack by the bookcase and tossed it onto the extra chair in the corner. She sorted through the contents of the hot pink pencil pouch.
    She tried to attend at least one math-related conference every quarter. Even though most of the sample software offered was rarely up her alley, she always took them. The AgriLife Extension workshop offered in October had been surprisingly interesting. Even her conference hotel roommate, a girl who worked in finance, had wanted a copy.
    "Gotcha." Cruz took the labeled drive over to Niall's computer and plugged it in to the USB port. She double-clicked on the prompt screen to open the documents on the flash drive. She selected the one she wanted and frowned when the file opened to reveal scads of numbers and confusing data. "What in the world is this?"
    Her whispered words were meant for her ears only. She shook her head as she scrolled through what looked, on first glance, to be corrupted data. On second glance, she realized it was much more than that. It was good data of some kind. Codes maybe? Or some kind of encryption—.
    Cruz froze as she heard the rocking chair outside the window creak. In the next instant, she dropped to the floor and skittered around to the front of the desk, putting the large piece of furniture between her and the window. Heart lodged in her throat, she fought to swallow and breathe. The rational side of her brain insisted it was simply the wind moving the rocking chair. The paranoid side told her to run and deal with the whys and maybes later.
    There. Another noise. And another. Her stomach dropped like a freight elevator on the fritz. Those were footsteps. Footsteps!
    She judged the distance between the desk and the door.