by J. S. Scott
The wolf that wins is the wolf you feed.
My eyes flew to his face again, and I knew I was openly staring, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Beneath the scruff, I could see the resemblance now. As the information connected in my brain of who exactly was sitting in my little diner in the middle of nowhere, my stomach knotted.
A murderer—a man who had raped and carved up a woman in cold blood.
I’d seen the report on the national news a few days ago. Although I didn’t immediately connect the face of the suspect, I remembered the distinctive tattoo, the wolves and words part of a Cherokee tale. Unlike most murderers, he’d actually been a very wealthy and very successful man.
Sliding from the stool, I backed away slowly, my eyes flying unwillingly to the marks again.
He can’t be here. What in the hell would he be doing here?
The simple answer would be that he was running. The last I’d heard, the suspect had yet to be located.
I have to get him out of here!
“I’m closing. I have to ask you to leave so I can finish cleaning up.” I tried to keep my voice calm, not wanting him to catch on that I suspected who he was and what he was doing in this isolated area of the country.
Obviously, he wanted to be somewhere that was sparsely populated.
He’s hiding out. Right here in Colorado.
Turning my back to him and hauling ass to the kitchen, I eyed the phone before carefully reaching to take the handset off the charger.
Phoenix moved so quickly that he was by my side in seconds, his strong hand prying the phone from my fingers.
“You should have just kept cooking. Instead, you had to ask questions. And now that you recognize me…well, that changes everything.” His voice was calm and sweet—in direct contrast to the anger in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to slow my breathing and heart rate as I tilted my head to look at his face. “We’ve never met. I don’t know you.”
“Bullshit! I can see it on your face. Who were you trying to call, Sugar?” Phoenix used the endearment sarcastically, holding the phone up to my face accusingly.
“My mother,” I answered, knowing that I didn’t lie well, but I sure as hell was going to try.
“You’re a little fucking liar,” he answered dangerously, taking the phone and heaving it against the concrete wall of the kitchen with so much force that pieces splintered off the handset as it collided with the hard surface.
I turned, ready to hightail it out of the diner, but he grasped my upper arm before I could even take a single step and pushed me back against the countertop, pinning me there with his muscular body. He tilted my chin up roughly.
“I’m going to ask you again—and don’t even think about fucking lying to me. You know who I am and you were going to call the police, right? How did you know?”
His face was suddenly terrifying, because instead of being nervous at having been caught, he looked cold and calculating. Cold enough to think about murdering me and not thinking twice about it. I hesitated nervously. Did I admit it, or did I continue to deny his claim? He was smart, and obviously completely convinced that I knew him, recognized him.
“It was the tattoo on your arm. The design is pretty distinctive.” Deciding I was walking a fine line of pissing him off even more, I decided to tell him the truth to avoid setting him off completely.
I looked away from him, trying to get my fear under control. My body was trembling, the whole experience surreal. Was it possible that I was experiencing the last few moments of my life? I was only twenty-seven, and too damn young to die. Morosely, I wondered if this man’s last victim had felt the same way.
I focused on the picture of my parents that hung on the opposite wall of the kitchen. If death was my fate, I wanted to die looking at the two people who had loved me, even though I was still angry that they’d left me here alone.
“The cops showed a picture of my fucking tat?”
He forced my gaze back to him with a strong hand on my face.
Dammit! I don’t want to look at him, have my vision of his face be the last thing I see before he kills me.
On the other hand, I didn’t want him any more pissed off than he already appeared to be.
“They showed everything, every picture they possibly could. They had plenty of photos since you’re Kane Abbott.” I was angry now, too, even though I was terrified. I hated him for invading my small, private space in the world, bringing his ugly, evil self to my seclusion, my safe place.
I’d seen the story about his crime, but the murder had happened on the West Coast, up in Seattle. What kind of crappy karma had brought him here? Kane Abbott had been a golden boy, a self-made man who had gone from a rough beginning in life to one of the richest men in the country. His past was murky, including some jail time, but there was no denying he’d been successful. What kind of psycho destroyed that kind of hard work to commit a despicable crime?
Unfortunately, it was the kind of guy who was now staring down at me like he was going to shut me up permanently.
I had no doubt that he probably would silence me. Since he obviously wasn’t willing to give himself up and pay for what he’d done, chances were good that he wouldn’t have a problem disposing of someone like me who got in his way.
“Don’t lie to me again.” His voice was a lethal growl.
I was imprisoned, his arms like bands of steel that kept my ass pressed hard against the metal counter, his weight pressed up against me, and my hands resting on the steel. One strong tug released one of my arms from confinement. His hold was weaker on my left side because his right hand was still grasping my chin, making me see him—whether I wanted to or not. Trying to raise my knee to put his balls in his throat, I clawed at his face with my free hand at the same time.
My actions didn’t get me very far, even though I knew I was fighting for my life. The struggle lasted only seconds, and I barely laid a scratch on his face with my short fingernails before I was turned and pushed face down on the cold metal counter, my wrists being held in a vice-like grip above my head with his stronger, larger hand.
“I warned you not to fuck with me.” Kane leaned over me, letting the weight of his upper body pin me down.
Tears began to trickle from my eyes. I tried to lift my head, but his body was sprawled over me, his head resting on top of mine.
“Let me go. Please.” I was finally willing to beg, even though I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. “I just want to be left alone. I won’t tell anybody you were here.”
“Lady, if you expect me to believe that, you’re the one who’s fucking crazy,” he rasped into my ear.
My heart raced as I heard the merciless tone of his voice. I was gasping for breath from fear and the weight of his body. “I’m not the one who murdered an innocent woman.” I couldn’t help it; I spoke without thinking, angry that I was going to die just because this asshole had landed in my isolated part of the country completely by chance.
The feel of cold metal on my exposed cheek released the horrified sob I’d been trying to hold back. From the corner of my eye, I could see the semi-automatic handgun he was holding.
“Stand up straight. Make one damn stupid move and it’s your own death sentence.”
I felt his weight move off me, his heavy grip on my wrists releasing. The circulation in my hands wasn’t good from his tight hold, but I managed to push myself up from the cold surface with my palms.
“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” Since he was now holding me at gunpoint, any hope I had of escaping was getting pretty dim.
“Don’t fucking tempt me, Cupcake.” His voice was rough, low, and raw. “Grab a pen and paper and write a note telling your customers you were called away on a personal matter, and will be closed indefinitely.”
“W
hy?” It didn’t make sense. Unless… “What are you going to do to me?”
“We’re going to go for a nice winter vacation in the mountains.”
I shuddered with revulsion. “So you can rape me first? And then murder me?”
“Contrary to what the cops might think, I don’t rape women. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to fuck you. Now start writing.” He motioned with his head to the pad I used to take orders.
I had no choice but to write his stupid note, knowing now that no one would bother to come looking for me when I went missing. There was nobody out there who really cared if I was here, or if the diner was open or not. I blinked back threatening tears, wondering what he’d do to me next. “You don’t have to do this.”
He moved slowly and plucked a roll of duct tape from under the counter, an area where I stored a plethora of supplies. “This will work. I have no problem with a little bondage.”
He almost sounded like he was planning as he went along, and that scared me. But if he was flying by the seat of his pants, he did it well. He bound my wrists together in front of me, then held the tape up in question. “Do I also need to gag and blindfold you, or are you going to behave yourself?”
“I’ll behave.” The words tumbled out of my mouth at the thought of being gagged and left completely in the dark, oblivious of my surroundings or what he was doing.
He gripped me tightly by my upper arm, and pushed me onto a stool. “Stay.”
He taped the note I’d written to the front door, made sure it was locked, then hauled me back onto my feet, moving me to the rear entrance. He grabbed my coat and handbag, which were hanging there by the door, and dug around in my purse, pulling out my keys and my wallet, giving my license a quick glance before dropping it back in my bag. “Anna Williams, huh? Welcome to my nightmare.”
I tried not to panic as he thrust me into the cold dark night, pausing to lock the back door before he dragged me across the small parking lot, knowing that I might not ever make it back here alive. I thought of running, but he must have read my thoughts because he jammed the gun into my ribs. Opening the passenger side door, he lifted me into the SUV as if I weighed nothing, then clicked the child safety lock, preventing me from unlocking the door and attempting to make a run for it.
My skull hit the headrest in frustration as the vehicle door slammed closed, fearful that the finality of the sound was just the first nail in my own coffin.
CHAPTER 3
Kane
This could not be fucking happening. Yet what other option did I have but to take her with me? I couldn’t have her calling the cops, and I was not a killer—though I supposed that little fact was debatable. Not because of that dead woman in my bed, but because I’d killed a man in self-defense. The bastard had put my brother in the hospital, so I went to confront him. The guy pulled a gun on me—which was a big mistake.
I did what I had to do to defend myself. He ended up injured and eventually died, and I spent a hellish year in prison on some minor charges, trying to keep myself alive and making far too many enemies along the way. It’s why I couldn’t go back. No fucking way.
I’d barely survived a year—a year that forever changed me. And if I couldn’t prove my innocence and was forced to go back to prison, the only way I’d be getting out of there would be in a body bag. My enemies would make damn sure of it.
I couldn’t go back. And I wouldn’t—even if I had to sacrifice my lovely Anna.
I wondered just how smart it’d been not to blindfold Anna. She’d now know where I was taking her, and if she got away, she’d be able to bring the cops back to the cabin. That meant I had to make sure she stayed put. And if keeping her tied to my bed was the only way to keep her confined, so be it. I could find a way to make that work.
I glanced in her direction, which earned me a stream of highly creative curses as she tugged and wiggled against the seatbelt. She’d been none too happy when I seat belted her in, making sure to run the buckle and straps between her bound hands, adding another layer of protection. The last thing I needed was for her to go crazy and lunge at me while I drove us along a winding mountain path, and run us off the road and into some ravine.
Flakes of snow were starting to fall, caught in the light of my high-beams as I maneuvered through the mountains in the dead of night. The snow could be a good thing if we made it to the cabin before the storm got too bad. And once it started falling, there was no way anyone would bother heading into the mountains to look for me.
“It’s just another hour’s drive, give or take. Sit tight and behave yourself, and this will go a hell of a lot easier for you.” I didn’t want to be an asshole, but I’d do whatever it took to keep my ass out of jail. If she pushed the issue, she’d become collateral damage—which would be a damn shame since she was smoking hot, seemed pretty nice, and was one hell of a cook.
She tried to shift in her seat to look at me, though there was little give in her bindings. “They’re going to be looking for me, you know. But I swear, if you just let me go, I promise, I won’t say a word.”
“You’re a bad fucking liar, babe.” I just had to laugh, shaking my head as I tossed a glance in her direction before focusing back on the road. “Who’s going to come looking for you? ‘Cause I can tell you now, you had lonely written all over your face when I walked into your diner.”
She glared at me, and if she wasn’t strapped in tight, I had no doubt she’d be clawing my eyes out. “I wasn’t lonely—I was angling for a good tip.”
Yet there was a hurt in her voice that I hadn’t expected, and it left me wondering just what her story was. All alone in a small town, running a diner all by her lonesome? Something had to have happened.
“Raw spot, huh? Well, if he cheated on you, he was a dumb fuck.” Hell, if she was mine, I don’t think we’d ever make it out of bed. And given our current circumstances, maybe she could help me pass the time.
Who the hell knew how long it’d take for Gavin and the rest of my team to find the evidence needed to clear my name, though I knew they’d spare no expense, and do all they could. I’d trust Gavin with my life—just like I’d done in the past.
She scoffed at me with a laugh that pulled me from my thoughts. “Yeah… ‘cause you look like the loyal and faithful type. I’m sure that was your girlfriend’s last thought before you murdered her.”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend, and I did not kill her—it was a setup.” I growled out the words, pissed off that I’d been forced to run when I was innocent. “And if you think you know me, guess again. You don’t. Not one bit. ‘Cause if I say I’ll be loyal, I will be. I keep my promises. So when I promise you that you’ll regret it if you try to make a run for it—keep that in mind. Because I will follow through on my threat.”
My words seemed to quiet her, and we drove the rest of the way in silence—other than her sniffling as she quietly cried. Fucking hell…there was no worse sound than a woman crying. It killed me that she was scared—not just of the situation she was in, but of me.
Yet the last thing I was going to do was comfort her, or make her think that things would be okay. Not when I needed to keep her scared. It was the only thing keeping this fucking mess from escalating. Because if it was a choice between her or me, it wasn’t going to be a difficult decision.
There was no way I could go back to jail.
Refusing to join any of the gangs in there, I’d barely survived my time inside—and under normal circumstances, I could more than hold my own. But when you had everyone gunning for you, because you refused to get involved in their asinine fights over imaginary turf and hurt pride, the odds weren’t stacked in your favor.
It’d been me and Gavin, watching each other’s backs. If we hadn’t found each other, I’m not sure either of us would have survived our time in prison. Yet even that hadn’t been simple. What we were forced to endure… It still gave m
e fucking nightmares, and I had my share of scars to make sure I didn’t forget the hell I’d gone through.
I pulled off onto a smaller road that luckily was still paved, though I knew that I’d eventually be heading onto dirt roads. With the snow falling, it was nearly midnight by the time we got to the cabin. The all-wheel drive on my SUV had managed the roads just fine, though I was under no illusion that if the snow continued to fall, driving through it would be impossible.
Part of my uncle’s property was fenced and barricaded, and though I’d always thought of my Uncle Jack as being more than a little insane, I was damned happy for his eccentricities right about now. Though my uncle had moved away, I found myself coming here somewhat regularly over the years, especially when I needed to get away for a bit. I’d even made a few fair changes and updates to the place, though per my uncle’s request, I made sure not to draw attention to the property.
I lowered my window and punched in the code to open the gate, taking care to block Anna’s view since the spotlight had kicked on when we drove up, the bright light swallowing up the night. The gate slid open as I drove on, eventually sliding closed just a minute later. The cabin was situated down a long drive and though it looked like nothing more than a small log cabin, I knew better.
I parked under the carport since there wasn’t a garage, and then leaving Anna still belted in, I went around to her side of the vehicle and yanked the door open as she glared at me. “What? No flirty smiles?”
If I was completely honest, I actually missed her sassy grin and the mild flirtation that had gone on between us before she recognized me.
“Fuck off, Phoenix—or should I say Kane?” She shifted in her seat, moving away from me as I unbuckled her.
“Call me what you want, babe. Makes no difference to me.” Grabbing her upper arm, I hauled her out of her seat, ignoring her struggles to break free of my grip, which wasn’t going to happen until I was damned ready to let her go.