Chill

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Chill Page 10

by Stephanie Rowe


  Silence. “Why?”

  Luke loaded up chopped wood, his senses on hyperalert for every sound. “You know how I told you when we first became partners that I left behind a pile of shit and changed my name.”

  “Yeah.” Cort’s voice was cautious, well aware Luke had never opened that door.

  “It might be coming for me, and I don’t want it to hit Kaylie.”

  Luke sensed Cort’s instant tension. “They wouldn’t touch her.”

  “They would. And you. And your baby.” Luke dropped the load of wood outside the door of the cabin. “Anything to get to me.”

  “You been marked yet?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Then we’re not leaving yet. I’ve got your back.”

  “Fuck that, Cort. Don’t be a hero.”

  “I’m not. I’m a friend.”

  “Shit, no.” Luke wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Not a friend. Too risky—”

  “Too damn bad. You’re Alaskan now, buddy. Friends are like pit bulls. Damn near impossible to shake off your leg.”

  Luke chuckled despite his tension. “You’re an ass.”

  “Appreciate the compliment. I’ll be in touch.” Cort hung up before Luke could argue any more.

  Luke swore under his breath as he scanned the sky again. Isabella’s stalkers were talking to pilots? The fastest way to search was by plane, and if they knew Isabella had been shot, Doc Eddie was well known.

  And Luke’s plane was in full view.

  Luke broke into a jog, heading for his plane. He swung up inside and started the engine immediately.

  The door to the cabin swung open, and Isabella came out onto the porch. Luke expected her to start waving frantically, to tell him to wait for her, but she didn’t.

  She simply stood there, grim resignation on her face.

  He realized she’d expected him to abandon her. In the middle of the woods with no way out.

  Anger surged in him as he backed the plane into the woods. Was that what she’d learned from Marcus? That he’d leave her stranded? It pissed him the hell off.

  He watched the wings carefully as he edged the plane as far under the pine needle cover as he could. The right one brushed against a tree, and he finally stopped.

  He got out and surveyed his position. The gleaming metal of the plane was fully under the tree line. A casual flyby wouldn’t see it.

  Hidden, but he wasn’t positioned for a quick get away, and that didn’t sit well with him. Didn’t like it at all.

  Hiding didn’t sit well with him either, actually.

  But openly engaging with this enemy had killed the woman he had loved eight years ago, and he was smart enough to know when to check his ego at the door.

  This was one of those times.

  Luke slammed the door shut and headed toward the cabin. Isabella was still standing on the step, frowning now. She was rubbing her turquoise pendant, and she looked confused. Suspicious.

  Luke scowled as he walked across the clearing. He’d forgotten what it was like to be around cynical people. After all his time in Alaska, he’d gotten used to being around folks who had one another’s backs, even if they hated each other. You knew you could count on people when the shit hit, because they would need to count on you someday.

  He didn’t like Isabella’s attitude.

  It reminded him too much of his old life, of how he’d been raised. Never trust. Never feel secure. Always check a gift for razor blades.

  Isabella’s attitude reminded him of his mother, and the pain she had lived with every day until she had been snuffed out.

  He liked it better when he didn’t remember.

  Luke vaulted up the steps and grabbed Isabella by the shoulders before she could pull away. “You need to know something,” he said. She was so fragile beneath his touch, and he found his grip softening to a caress. His anger faded, replaced by a need to reassure, to give her security. “I’m not going to leave until you’re safe,” he said quietly. “It’s the way I am. So get used to it.”

  Her eyes widened. “But I’m not paying you anything.”

  “I’m not doing it for the money.” He couldn’t hide his disgust and the flicker of sympathy for the hardness of the lessons she had learned. Lessons he’d grown up with as well. He remembered when he had been like her. It was a crappy way to be. He slid his hands down and rubbed her upper arms. “This is a different world. Money means nothing out here. It’s a different set of values.”

  She shook her head, her gaze searching his. He saw the desperation there, the resistance, the refusal to believe. “No one stays just to stay. Not even Marcus.”

  Luke sighed. “Of course not Marcus. He’s—”

  There was a sudden hum in the distance, and Luke looked up. “Searchers.”

  “What—”

  He shoved Isabella back inside and shut the door. It was impossible to see inside the shuttered interior.

  The sound of the plane grew louder. “Luke?” Isabella’s voice was tense, laden with fear.

  He latched his hand around her wrist and tugged her to him. She didn’t resist. He slung one arm around her neck and kept his rifle free.

  “Did they find us?”

  “I think they’re guessing.” The engine grew louder, and Luke had to fight the urge to go outside and watch the sky. If they were low enough, they’d see him standing out there. Right now, the cabin was boarded up and the plane hidden. To the casual observer, it would look as though no one had been there for a while. “Do they know you’re hurt?”

  Isabella’s body was warm against his. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “They’re guessing then.” The roar of the plane was almost deafening, and Luke figured they were flying barely above the tree line right over the clearing.

  Close enough to see into the shadows and catch sight of his plane? Yeah, maybe.

  He tightened his grip on his gun and forced himself to wait it out.

  The plane passed by, and he felt Isabella shudder. “They’re gone.”

  “Not necessarily.” Luke leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes so he could focus on the sound of the plane. He could tell from the engine that it wasn’t one he and Cort owned. Someone else then. Hired pilot or an innocent simply passing by?

  Doc had taken off earlier in his own bush plane to head back into town. Luke knew Doc wouldn’t spill. But that was before he had known Leon was involved.

  Fuck. If Doc got hurt—

  “They’re coming back!” Isabella moved closer against him.

  “Figured they would.” The question was: were they going to land?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Isabella held her breath as the engine grew louder. It sounded like it was right over her head, and she closed her eyes as paralyzing fear began to slide down her spine. All she could think about was Roseann.

  They were trapped in this cabin. If that plane landed, she and Luke would never make it to his plane in time. Marcus had taught her never to be trapped. To always have an exit. And they were trapped! “Luke—”

  He put his hand over her mouth and pulled her close.

  She tensed, ready to fight, but then she realized his grip was loose and soft. Reassuring. He wasn’t trying to confine her at all. Slowly, she relaxed against him and closed her eyes. “If they land, we have no way out.”

  “Trust me,” he whispered. “This is my territory here.”

  Trust. God, how many times had her mother told her not to trust? And Marcus? Marcus had been burned by trusting the wrong person. Betrayed by Leon and Nate, his own people. She pulled free as the roar grew deafening. “Let’s go to the plane so we’re ready to fly out if they land.”

  He shook his head. “They can’t see my plane from the angle they’re flying in at.” He caught her arm and pulled her against him. His body was hard and muscular against hers, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him.

&nb
sp; In the dark, it was less personal. In the dark, it felt safe. It was easier not to think about the fact that it was Luke’s body she was wedged up against, who had kissed her so thoroughly earlier. In the dark, she needed to feel the reassurance of his touch.

  “If they’d seen the plane on their first pass, they’d have come back at a different angle for a better view. But they’re checking the other places now. They didn’t see it.” He squeezed her arm. “I think we’re clear.”

  The roar of the plane was deafening now, and she wanted to plug her ears. It felt like it was going to land right on top of the cabin and drop through the roof. “But they might land! We need to go!” She felt for the door, needing to get out. To escape.

  “Hey!” Luke grabbed her around the waist, spun her around and pinned her to the wall with his body.

  “No! Let me go! We have to—”

  He caught her face in his hands and kissed her.

  Not a gentle kiss.

  An assault.

  Deep, wet, fierce, dominating. She responded instantly, unable to resist the taste of his mouth, her body needing to melt into his immense strength. Just the feel of his body against hers, of his mouth, of his hands anchoring her hips, made her feel safe, protected. Not trapped.

  Tentatively she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him closer. Needing more contact. More of his strength.

  “Isa.” He whispered her name, then deepened the kiss. His hands went to her bottom, and he pressed her belly against his pelvis and the hardness of his erection.

  Excitement flared low in her body, and she wiggled closer. She felt desirable, sexy and protected. His words echoed in her mind. “I’m not going to leave until you’re safe. It’s the way I am. Get used to it.”

  Her throat tightened, just as it had when he’d uttered those words before, but this time, she couldn’t muster the will to argue. To tell herself no one ever meant that. That the only person she could count on was herself. With Luke’s arms around her, his mouth so hot against hers, the strength of his shoulders burning beneath her hands, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to live in a world she could trust without fear or reservation.

  But she couldn’t afford to forget the lessons that had enabled her to survive, that had given her the tools and strength to prevail over the life for which she had been destined.

  Luke made her want to forget, and God help her, that would be the biggest mistake of her life.

  Forgetting would kill her.

  He slid his hand over her ribs and cupped her breast. Heat shot through her body, ripples of fire exploded in her belly—

  “No!” She jerked back, and her head banged into the wall of the cabin.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Luke caught her and pressed his lips to the back of her head where she’d hit it.

  She tried to shove him off her. “How can you kiss me when they could be landing right now?”

  “They left. Listen.”

  Isabella realized the sound of the plane was growing faint in the distance. “How do you know they won’t come back?”

  Luke trailed his hand through her hair. “Alaska is huge, and there’s no way they can afford to land everywhere. They’re doing drive-bys and if anything alerts them, they’ll check it out. Nothing here clued them in. They’re going on.”

  Isabella closed her eyes. A respite. “You’re sure?”

  “For now.”

  She opened them again, straining to see him in the dark. “They’ll be back?”

  “Eventually. If Leon is involved, he’ll figure it out.” Luke squeezed her arm. “But by then, we’ll be gone.”

  “Gone,” she echoed. “To where?” Boston? To find Marcus and save him?

  “That, my dear, depends on you.” Luke moved away from her, and she lost contact with him.

  “Me?” In the darkness, without Luke touching her, Isabella felt vulnerable. Isolated. Alone. She didn’t like it.

  She should be fine with it. She was used to it. Alone was power. But being held by Luke had given her a sense of safety and warmth she simply couldn’t generate on her own. He had shown her what she’d been missing.

  She heard Luke strike a match, and light flared, illuminating his face with a golden glow. He lit a kerosene lamp, and the small cabin filled with flickering light. “Doc saves his generator for severe patient situations.”

  He set the lamp on the table and held out his hand. “Come.”

  Isabella couldn’t resist the urge to move from the darkness into the light, so she walked over to him and let him take her hand. He settled her at the table, then took a seat next to her. “It’s time to talk,” he said. “Tell me everything.”

  Isabella hesitated, knowing full well that his definition of everything might not be the same as hers. “Everything about the night I got shot?”

  He raised a brow. “We’ll start there.”

  “Okay.” Isabella cleared her throat, trying to get comfortable. She wasn’t used to asking for help, to sharing family secrets with a stranger, but Luke wasn’t a stranger, and if there was any way she could get him to help her rescue Marcus, she had to do it.

  She had to tell the story in a way that convinced him of the good in his father.

  But as she looked into his grim face, she knew the odds were low.

  And she also knew Luke was her only chance.

  Failure wasn’t an option.

  Luke braced his palms on the windowsill. He’d opened the shutters back up and was scanning the nighttime forest as he listened to Isabella talk about the life he had left. His skin felt tight, and his scalp was itching from all the memories her stories were bringing back. His fingers ached from digging into the wood. Bitterness was like a lead weight in his gut.

  “So, then…” Her voice broke. “He shot Roseann.”

  Luke’s jaw tightened. “Your pregnant friend.” The voice didn’t sound like his. It was flat. Emotionless. Hard. He hated this side of him. Despised the man he used to be. “Nate shot her.” Nate. The man who he’d trusted with his life so many times. Son of a bitch.

  “Yes. I don’t know…I don’t know if he killed her. I just ran, and I should have stayed and—”

  “No way.” Luke whirled around to look at Isabella. She sat on the lone bed, her knees pulled to her chest, tears reflecting on her cheeks. “You’d be dead if you stayed. That wouldn’t have helped her.”

  “She was my friend,” she said fiercely. “She and Marcus are all I have, and I ran away.”

  “Hell, Isabella.” Luke stalked across the room and leaned on the bed. “You’re a survivor, and you did what was necessary to get out alive. Ditch the guilt. Get on living. You can’t save anyone but yourself.”

  She stared up at him. “I’m not like you, Luke. I can’t walk away from my own family just because—”

  “He’s not your family,” Luke interrupted. He couldn’t stand to see Isabella’s loyalty to Marcus.

  Isabella lifted her chin. “He’s all I have.”

  Luke frowned at her response, and his heart softened for her. “Where are your parents?” he asked quietly.

  She began to pick at the hem of her sweatshirt. “My mom died when I was seventeen. I don’t know who my dad is.” Her voice took on a defiant edge. “And neither did my mom.”

  There was a challenge in her eyes, daring him to question her mother’s morals. He liked that loyalty. He appreciated that she had the courage to stand up for those she loved, no matter what society might say. It reminded him of what he liked about Alaska. Loyalty that went to the depth of the human soul instead of to money and power. He brushed his finger over her pendant. “This was hers?”

  Isabella set her hand over it. “Yes.”

  “I like it.”

  A little furrow of confusion formed between her eyebrows. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “But it’s ugly. Not fashionable.”

  He shrugged. “I like it.”

  A tiny smile tugged at
the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Luke had a sudden urge to kiss that little smile. God, he wanted her. The sight of her on that bed…too much.

  He dropped to the blanket beside her and lay down on his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out so his hip was touching hers.

  Isabella tensed. “What are you doing?”

  “Digesting.” Their dinner had been meager and cold, because Luke had decided not to risk a fire. The wood for the stove sat untouched outside for the same reason. The temperature in the cabin was dropping fast, and he knew it was going to be a cold night. But he’d heard planes passing in the distance several more times, and it wasn’t a risk he wanted to take.

  “Can you digest somewhere else?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. The lack of furniture in the cabin spoke for itself. There was nowhere to sit except the bed.

  Besides, he liked where he was too damn much. Isabella’s hip was still against his, and each time she moved, the bed shook. Yeah, he liked being here.

  He closed his eyes and quieted his mind, putting himself in strategy mode. He needed to assimilate now. Fill in the missing pieces. “If Leon is involved, he must be running the show. He’s been chafing under Marcus’s rule for a long time, and I doubt he’ll want to work for someone new. He’ll be leading the pack if he can.”

  Isabella sighed, clearly giving up on getting him out of the narrow bed. “What about Zack? And the other man Marcus was meeting with? Simon?”

  “Zack Savat.” Luke rolled the name Isabella had given him over in his mind. It sounded familiar. He was sure he’d heard it before. Somewhere in his past…but fuck…he didn’t want to open those doors again.

  He would let it sit for now.

  It was enough to know Leon was involved. And that he’d gotten Nate on his side. Shit. Nate. “Nate used to be my best friend,” he said quietly.

  Isabella shifted beside him. “Really?” Her sudden tension was evident. “Are you still friends?”

  “Haven’t spoken since I left.” He and Nate had been tight. The same. Luke had left. Nate had stayed. And now Nate was shooting pregnant women.

 

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