by Lucy Farago
She wanted to run out of the bathroom and straight to that hill. Dizzy, she grabbed the edge of the basin sink for support. She wasn’t running anywhere. And she needed Monty’s help. If she took off, he’d think her batshit crazy. When the room’s tilt-a-whirl slowed, she noticed the tub was nearly full. Ever since she’d discovered her website had been hijacked, life had sucked. She turned off the spout and eagerly slipped into the water. It wasn’t hot enough to soak for hours but was exactly what her aching muscles screamed for.
The warm water soothed and relaxed not all but some of her aches. That first night, she was certain she’d freeze to death. If it hadn’t been for the dead leaves, she might very well have done just that. She’d been too preoccupied with other things—like running, trying to stay alive—to think about grabbing an emergency blanket off the plane. Nor had she left the house four days ago thinking she’d become some wild animal’s dinner. What the hell was her next move? What if her clumsy feet had ruined her chances of saving herself?
She had to get off this mountain first, and the odds of doing that on foot were near impossible. From the sounds of it, Monty had no transportation. What kind of bonehead move was that? What if he got hurt? Just her luck. The one person who might be able to help didn’t care for technology. Then again, with no hum of electricity, no obtrusive rattle from a generator, she could see why someone might enjoy solitude. She made herself relax in the quiet of the cabin. It was for the best that Monty couldn’t help. He didn’t need to be dragged into her drama.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been soaking, but a definite loud knock—on the front door—sent her heart racing. She hurried out of the tub and wrapped the towel around herself. Damn, why hadn’t she taken her clothes with her? If they’d found her, she was naked…and dead. She pressed her ear to the door and listened past the blood pulsating through her ears.
“Hello,” she heard Monty say. “Can I help you?”
Don’t panic. Maybe it wasn’t them.
“I hope so. My friend is missing.”
She clamped a hand over her mouth. Better the long list of swear words echo in her brain and not the tiny bathroom. That was the one called Daniel. His Russian accent hadn’t been as pronounced as the other one’s. She’d hoped she’d been the only survivor. She’d taken his pulse, but her fingers had been chilled to the bone. His friend had ended up at the back of the plane, covered in debris she hadn’t wanted to dig through. She hadn’t bothered with the pilot. All that blood said he wasn’t walking away alive.
“A woman, about so big…pretty…blond hair.”
She’d never make it in the woods with only a towel. She held her breath, the pounding in her ears nearly deafening her to Monty’s answer.
“Nope. You’re the only person I’ve seen in weeks.”
He was covering for her? Taylor released a slow breath.
“How long has she been missing?”
“A couple of days. If you see her, she may not make sense. We had accident. Our plane made emergency landing and when I wake, she gone. Probably has head injury and wandered off.”
“That explains the nasty gash on your forehead. Anyone else hurt?”
“No, it just two of us.”
Liar.
“Let me get my jacket and I’ll help you look for her.”
“No,” Daniel said, far too forceful not to arouse a normal person’s suspicion.
Normal people would want help, but she’d learned those two were anything but normal.
“How about a first aid kit for that cut? If you were knocked out—”
“I fine. I call for help, and I would be most grateful if you stay here…in case she find cabin…and requires assistance.”
“If you’re sure?” Monty asked.
“I sure.”
“Okay, well, good luck. I hope you find her. This is no place for anyone to be roaming about on their own.”
“Thank you.”
The click of the door closing and metal being dragged against metal—a dead bolt, the old-fashioned kind—finally made her heart settle. There was a painfully long pause before footsteps came her way. She opened the bathroom door.
“I watched him leave. This cabin is solid. The windows are secure, and I drew the curtains. He couldn’t overhear us if he tried. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
She considered her options. The man had just saved her, at considerable risk to himself. One look at Daniel, at his broken nose and unibrow, and Monty had to have known he wasn’t the kind of man you screwed with. “He was searching for me.”
“I kind of guessed that already.” His gaze went from her face to the hand that held the knotted towel around her chest. “Get dressed and we’ll talk.” Then he disappeared into the other bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t happy.
She reminded herself people wanted her dead. She would do and say whatever she had to stay alive. If that meant lying to this nice guy, so be it. When she came out, the shotgun Monty had on the coffee table made her rethink her decision. She swallowed hard and assured herself he wouldn’t hurt her. At least, she hoped not.
“Have a seat.” He motioned to the empty spot on the sofa beside him.
Not wanting to antagonize him, she obeyed. “I need your help.” But he’d probably figured that out.
“Who was he?”
“My boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.” It was the only plausible story she could come up with.
“You’re running from your ex?”
For several reasons, she wasn’t telling him the truth. One, if Monty was really a good guy, she didn’t want to involve him in anything that might very well get him killed. And two, trusting the wrong person had gotten her into this mess. “He’s crazy. He kidnapped me. Our plane went down…before I could figure out what he’d planned,” she added. It was, after all, mostly true. “I thought everyone was dead.”
“And instead of staying at the crash site, you wandered off? Someone has to know that plane fell off the grid. They can’t track you if you’re not with the plane.”
That was the point. “I didn’t relish the idea of hanging out with dead bodies.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Does he have a name, this boyfriend of yours?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Does this ex-boyfriend have a name?” he said, oddly patient, more than she’d have been should the tables have been turned.
“Daniel.” At least that’s what his buddy let slip when they’d thought she was unconscious.
“Does Daniel have a last name?”
Not that she knew it. “Yes,” she said, trying to think of a Russian surname. Her dry cleaner was Russian, but for the life of her—“Sokolov.” It was as good a Russian name as any.
“And how long did you date…Daniel?” he asked, giving her the impression that he didn’t believe her.
“A short time. You can only hide assholeness for so long.”
Monty pursed his lips. “His true colors started to show?”
“Something like that.”
“Was he abusive?”
“That’s kind of personal.” She’d been roughed up, but not in the sense Monty meant.
“A man shows up at my door, searching for a woman I am now hiding. I’d say we passed personal when I closed the door on him.” Although his face didn’t say it, the vibe he gave off continued to be an unhappy one.
“Look, I’m sorry I got you involved, but this isn’t my fault. I didn’t plan on falling in that creek and then getting sick. For that matter,” she said, getting a little peevish herself, “I didn’t plan on getting kidnapped and flown to wherever this place is. Believe me, if I could redo Monday, I would.”
“Alaska, and Monday?”
“Yes, Monday. I’d left work and was on my way…” She swallowed, reliving the terror of being taken against her w
ill. “I was on my way home. When I was grabbed.” She’d been on her way to the police station. “Alaska?” That explained a lot, but why bring her here?
“Yes, Alaska. And that’s four days ago. You were alone for two days before I found you? Two days?” he repeated, again sounding skeptical. “How did you survive out there all that time? You weren’t exactly prepared for…well, you weren’t prepared for anything.”
“And how does one prepare for a kidnapping?”
“Point taken,” he said. “I have to give you credit. You managed to stay alive in the wilderness. It’s cold up here.”
“Tell me about it. So, what do we do now?”
“Nothing. My friends are scheduled to pick me up in six days. All you have to do is stay inside the cabin until then.”
“Until they arrive?” He had to be kidding. That damn hill was calling her name.
He ran an impatient hand through his thick brown hair. “Unless you want to chance a chat with Daniel? Or risk his coming back?”
He had a point. “No.” Would they watch the cabin? Was there even a they to worry about? Daniel had survived, but the pilot hadn’t. It was possible his accomplice had gone the same route. Then again, they’d had a satellite phone. Backup could’ve already arrived. And she doubted they’d play fair. Or that they wouldn’t come back. They’d snatched her in front of a police station. That took balls. Or a conspiracy. Staying here was a bad idea. Leaving could be a bad idea. Getting Monty involved was definitely a bad idea. “Is there no way of getting off this mountain?”
“Like I said, in six days. I suggest you make the best of it.”
He didn’t look any happier than she was. What if they didn’t have six days? “And if he returns?”
He nodded toward the rifle. “We’ll deal with it if it happens.”
Easy for him to say. No one wanted him dead. “Do you know how to use that?” He looked like the type who knew his way around computers, not guns.
“More than most,” he said, and left it at that.
It was a mistake to judge a book by its cover. She matched people by their profiles, before physical preferences were considered. Chemistry was vital to happily ever after, but just as that instant attraction didn’t always result in great relationships, a lack of one didn’t mean couples were doomed. Monty was cute, in a guy-wearing-glasses kind of way. He had the body, and she suspected the blue eyes she’d glimpsed beneath the rims, that would blow her socks off. But he was in an isolated cabin—in bloody Alaska—by himself. Would he have come up here if he wasn’t the outdoors type? Or was he just…odd?
“If you had to, would you know how to use it?” he asked.
She’d fired guns before. Was one like the other? “I know about kickback, how to point. But I’m no marksman.”
“Would you be comfortable with your own firearm? I have others.” When her eyes bugged out, he added, “We’re in the wilderness. I’ve heard wolves, and I can guarantee you, the bears know we’re here. It would be imprudent not to have something to defend yourself with. So, would you be comfortable if I gave you your own gun?”
Comfortable or not, she’d defend herself. “Okay.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Daniel…you never suspected he was crazy?”
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him. “Not at the beginning, no.”
“How unpredictable is he?”
“We didn’t date long enough for me to answer that.”
She got that she owed Monty—a lot—but what was with the twenty questions? She’d ask, except she remembered profiling guys like him. They were nothing if not inquisitive. Of all her clients, they wanted to know everything about everything… except the woman they were being matched to. In fact, they’d been more interested in the algorithms used by the computers than in their date’s appearance. And she was doing it again. Because he looked smart didn’t mean he was glued to a computer. Considering he was up here with no electricity, she’d be inclined to say the opposite.
“And you have no idea where you were headed?”
If she’d known that, she might have known which direction to avoid. Instead, she’d taken off into the hills blind. “No.” For a split-second, doubt flashed in his eyes. Was her story too far out there? She’d read about abusive men doing outrageous things. But she needed Monty on her side. “He has a lot of money. Maybe he’s got a place up here.” Not once had she overheard what they’d planned to do with her. “His ex-wife tried to warn me that he was a narcissist.” She had to be careful not to give him too much information to hang her with later.
“And you didn’t believe her?”
“She was his ex-wife. Although thinking back, that would’ve been as good a reason as any to believe her. She was an ex. I stupidly thought she was jealous.” She told herself to rein it in. The more lies that came out of her mouth, the more likely they’d come back to bite her in the ass.
He rubbed the back of his neck and stood. “I’m going to check the property to make sure Daniel has exited the building. Help yourself to anything in the cabin.”
She wasn’t certain whether he’d bought her story or not, and that wasn’t good. “Please, be careful.” If he thought she was lying, would he turn her over? “Aren’t you taking the rifle?”
“If he’s out there, it would look a little odd, me scoping out the area with a gun. You keep it with you for now. We’ll get you your own when I get back” Then he left.
Even though Monty had stoked the fireplace and it crackled loudly in the hearth, there was a sudden chill in the air. What more had she gotten herself in to?
Chapter 3
She was lying. Problem was, what to do about it. Her fear, however, had been real, and considering the condition he’d found her in, the running part had been true. If she’d done something illegal and this Daniel was a cop, he’d have identified himself. If he’d been trying to help Taylor, he’d have asked Monty to assist in the search. A simple note on the cabin door would suffice a stray woman seeking shelter. And if Monty had his computers, he could do some recon of his own. As it was, he was risking his own life and had no means of finding out why and for whom. For that he’d make his team pay. Unplug his ass.
He hadn’t failed to notice Taylor—if that’s who she was; her cards had no picture—hadn’t answered his question about whether she’d been abused. You’d think a woman asking a stranger to help hide her wouldn’t be vague about something like that. He had, however, spotted odd bruising on her hips, and after Daniel’s visit, he realized something nasty had happened to her. But the bruises could’ve been made from an airplane seat belt. While he’d been struggling to live without electricity, she’d been struggling to survive. It put his whining into prospective. But damn, what he wouldn’t give for a sliver of electricity. A satellite scan would’ve allowed him to find the crash site.
He circled to the back of the cabin and used the trees for cover. He hadn’t done shit like this in years, but it was all coming back to him. Ryan had trained him harder than the army. Of course, he’d been just a kid when he’d enlisted, and when his superiors had realized his talent with computers, they’d quickly bumped him to Army Intelligence. The Central Security Service had been his home when he’d had none. ICU had and still was his family. The fuckers.
In the service, he was used to taking orders, doing everything by the book. But Ryan had given him carte blanche to do what was necessary to get the job done. At first, he’d been worried he’d fuck up. But he hadn’t. In fact, that freedom had allowed him to test boundaries, to knock on doors his superiors would have tossed his ass in the brig for even trying to take down. He hadn’t earned that kind of security clearance. With Ryan, he hadn’t needed one. He’d created his own and learned all kinds of neat shit. If Daniel was out there, he was going to find him.
After twenty minutes of looking for the asshole, Monty came up
empty. Daniel—if that was his real name—had resumed his hunt. So why was a matchmaker on the run? Or was it only her perception? Maybe she was delusional. It wasn’t like he could ask her directly. For now, he’d let her believe he’d swallowed her story. She was afraid. The relief he’d seen on her face when she’d come out of the bathroom had been palpable.
Prior to this Daniel’s visit, before he’d understood the danger she was in, he’d been fantasizing about Taylor in the bathtub. Memories of the body she’d tried to hide beneath the blanket kept coming back to tease him. He’d had to keep telling himself to stop staring, and he prayed she hadn’t noticed. If she really was an abused woman, he’d come off creepier than Daniel. He was going to play this cool and not make things awkward between them.
Confident the area was clear, he headed back. How was he going to survive the next week with this woman? Right before he opened the door, a golden eagle flew overhead, catching his attention. He wasn’t much for birds, but in the last few days, he’d been envious of their wings.
He was grateful to find her dressed. Gone were the creamy white shoulders and the silky hair he might have, accidentally, touched when she was unconscious was now tied back in a long ponytail. Contrary to what his team believed, he did leave his office. He appreciated beautiful women and he dated. Not as often as they did. He wasn’t a man ho. And he liked his woman smart. But his idea of fun was creating new software. Long walks down a beach were fine, but give him a matrix to tackle and he was happiest. Computer crashes were easy to fix, relationships…
“Hi,” she said, jumping to her feet to greet him.
“Did you think I’d leave you here alone?”
“No, I thought…never mind. You’re here.”
She thought he’d had a run in with Daniel. Just exactly how dangerous was this man? “There’s no sign of your ex.”
“Do you think he’s out of the area?”
“I can only tell you I didn’t see him.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
Maybe he’d gotten it all wrong, and she was one of those women who kept going back to abusive partners? Because clearly, his news didn’t make her overly happy. Did she want Daniel to be in the area? Or was there something else she wasn’t telling him?