by Lucy Farago
“How about getting me that gun?” she said.
Maybe it wasn’t that she missed good ol’ Daniel. Maybe she wanted to take him out? He could understand that. Fear made people do all kinds of out-of-character things. He was second-guessing his suggestion to give her a gun. Shooting a man, even someone who deserved it, wasn’t as easy as people might think. Real life tended to kick you in the teeth after the deed was done. None of the people he’d shot had died. And although his actions had been necessary, he’d never forget what it was like to watch someone, wondering if they were about to take their last breath. “Are you sure?”
“I’d feel safer.”
He couldn’t fault her for that. “Then come with me.”
He led her to his bedroom. Getting down on one knee, he reached under the bed and withdrew the steel box. He hadn’t relocked it, so he opened the lid and showed her the contents. Inside were two guns, a Glock 17 and a Beretta 92FS. “You have a choice.”
“Just how scary are those woods that you need that much fire power?”
He nearly laughed. “There’s no shortage of wildlife up here.”
“But why the handgun? Wouldn’t the rifle suffice?”
If the handgun was making her uncomfortable, how would she handle the arsenal of weapons in the panic room below? Monty would be there now if he thought Ryan wouldn’t follow through on his threat. But the asshole had been very clear. If Monty considered a couple of weeks of fresh air and sunshine torture, four weeks would be a death sentence, and that’s what would happen should he trigger the alarm for anything other than a life-or-death matter. And who knew if the dickhead would consider this life or death? “This is a friend’s place. I’m not entirely sure why he has them.”
“Oh. Which one is easier to handle?”
“The grip is better on the Glock.” After making certain the safety was on, he gave it to her. She reached out, eyeing the gun as if it had done something to piss her off. Then, with a resigned sigh, she surprised him by tucking it down the front of her jeans.
“You know, some guns can be accidentally triggered that way.”
“Shit,” she squealed, arms open and frozen in her spot.
“But not that particular model.” He shouldn’t have done it, but the wide-eyed horror on her face was beautiful. She was beautiful. And he would do well to remember she wasn’t one of the guys. The evil look she shot at him was far deadlier than the gun she’d shoved down her pants. This was why he didn’t like people. No one appreciated his sense of humor. “Sorry,” he said, trying to sound contrite.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Maybe. I just didn’t want you thinking you were Rambo. Guns are dangerous.”
“Still…” She turned on her heel. “It wasn’t nice.”
Monty kicked the box under the bed and followed her out. “I said I was sorry. It was a dumb thing to say.” Funny, but dumb.
“Yes, it was. I’ve had a rough few days and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get any easier anytime soon.”
“Sorry,” he repeated. She had a point. “Can I get you anything? Are you still hungry? You can grab a book.” He pointed to the stack of shelves to the left of the fireplace. “There should be something there that interests you.” His team sometimes spent weeks up here, and while they’d had access power, boredom wasn’t far around the corner as they guarded whoever they’d been hired to hide.
“I’m getting tired. I think I might take a nap. Do you mind?”
“No, no, absolutely not.” Maybe afterward the awkward tension he’d just created would be gone.
* * * *
Taylor waited a reasonable time for Monty to assume she’d fallen asleep. When he’d left her alone earlier, she’d checked out the cabin. The only way out was through the front door or one of the oddly configured windows. Set high in the wall, only the added height of a chair would allow her to reach them. Hopefully, Monty wouldn’t notice one missing. The armchair he’d slept in was too short and too soft to give her enough support. She slipped on the coat Daniel had tossed at her and strapped on her purse. She’d considered leaving it, as she’d have to return, but the way her life was going, she wasn’t taking anything for granted.
After making certain the gun wouldn’t accidentally shoot her girl parts, she climbed onto the wooden chair. Examining the window, she’d never seen anything like it. The latch could be padlocked and the glass was thicker than usual. Monty hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the cabin was secure. Given where they were, theft didn’t seem a likely reason for such security. Maybe bears and raccoons were far smarter than anyone gave them credit for.
Quietly, she slid the heavy window open and hoisted herself up. She balanced on her hips, trying to figure out how to maneuver a leg through the opening so as not to fall headfirst. It took some doing, but she managed to squeeze one leg and then the other until she sat perched on the sill like one big-ass bird. It was still a nasty drop, but if she did it right, she shouldn’t get hurt. She hoped. The trick was getting back inside the cabin. But she’d deal with that later. She needed to find her evidence before she lost the sun. She held her breath and jumped, landing with bent knees. Then she gave herself a pat on the back for not breaking anything. If she’d traversed that hill with this much grace, she wouldn’t have ended up in the creek.
Luckily, it hadn’t rained—or snowed—in the two days she’d been on her back. Finding the hill was easy and she began her search there. She found sleepy slugs and unhappy worms, but no flash drive. Standing at the ominous creek, it was clear she’d have to wade in. She glanced down at her shoes and considered taking them off. It’d be cold, but would she have more traction? She got herself a sturdy stick for support and sat, preparing to remove her shoes. That was when she spotted something shiny half submerged in the mud along the shore. She bit her lip to stop from squealing in anticipation. And when she plucked it free and held it close to her chest, she nearly cried in relief.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, her foot slipped on the muddy shore and she was on her way to a reunion with the creek when Monty snagged her coat and yanked her back. When she had her footing, and she was sure her heart wasn’t going to explode out of her mouth, she turned. She expected him to be mad or at the very least annoyed; instead, she got nothing but a blank stare.
He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “Find what you’re looking for?” He nodded to her closed fist.
“I…I lost something when I fell.” That much was true.
“Something so important you were willing to risk running into Daniel?”
She opened her hand. “My lipstick.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her open palm. “You came back here for that?” He didn’t believe her.
Twisting the tube apart, she showed him the pink lipstick. “It’s discontinued. They don’t make it anymore.”
He squinted at the lipstick a good long while before speaking. “Were you lying about how dangerous Daniel is?”
“No.” She remembered in vivid detail the cold hands that had wrenched her arms and shoved her in the back of a dark van. She shivered.
“That’s the first honest thing I think you’ve said. So why risk him catching you simply to retrieve makeup?”
“You said he was gone. That he wasn’t around. I didn’t think I was risking anything.”
He took a step forward, and before she could react, he’d grabbed the edge of her coat and yanked it up. “And yet you brought the gun.”
“Better safe than sorry. Right?”
“Fair enough. There’s just one final detail about this little excursion that bothers me.”
When he didn’t offer up what that was, she waited, worried she knew exactly what he was about to say.
“I get that maybe you wanted to retrieve your lost property…but why sneak out of the bedroo
m window…this close to sunset?”
Because she didn’t want him asking questions. “I didn’t want to bother you,” she said, her shoulders creeping up to a shrug. The lie was lame even to her ears. But if he believed her, or most likely not, she’d never know because on her next breath, she found herself face-planted on the cold ground, a gunshot ringing into the mountains as she covered her head.
“Stay down,” Monty spoke in a loud whisper, lying on the ground beside her.
Well, duh. She was scared, not stupid, and the look she gave him said as much.
“A smart person wouldn’t have come out here for a tube of lipstick,” he hissed, having understood her. “He’s got to be on the other side of the hill. As long as you stay put, he has to come closer to see us.”
“He’s not going to keep to that side forever.” How long did they have?
“Give me the gun.” He stuck out his hand.
“How am I supposed to defend myself without it?” What if Monty was shot while still holding the gun? Damn, what if Monty was shot? That would be on her.
“Taylor, you’re going to have to trust me. We have to get back to the cabin, and the only way to do that is to take him out. Are you capable of doing that?”
“Are you?”
“I was born and raised in Kentucky. I held my first gun when I was four. So, unless you were lying about how well you can shoot, hand it over.”
Kentucky? She didn’t believe him. “That doesn’t make you a killer.” Just who had she gotten herself involved with?
“I’m only going to incapacitate him. Now give me the damn gun before he comes down here.”
What options did she have? She relinquished the gun. “Be careful.”
“It’s going to take me a few seconds to circle around without being seen. See the rocks by the evergreens?” He pointed to a tall rock formation edging the water. “Crawl there. The trees will cover you, and there’s enough room between the stones to edge inside. He won’t be able to see you if he’s looking down.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Pray I get him before that.”
What the hell had happened to her life that a man she’d just met would have to…stop another man from shooting at them? This was insane. She nodded again. “Please don’t die.” For both of their sakes.
“I’ll do my best.” He smiled, the first sincere smile she’d seen on him. It was oddly reassuring.
She began to crawl. She wasn’t certain if she should have faith in this odd man, but somehow, she didn’t think Monty said things he couldn’t do. She only had to worry about how he’d do it. A few steps down, she had no choice, and her right hand and knee submerged into the water, the rocks beneath digging into her bones. She ignored the pain and, halfway, looked back. Monty was gone and she was, for the time being, on her own. Fortunately, he’d been right, and the stones formed a nice little cubbyhole for her to crawl into. But should Monty fail, this could very well be her coffin.
She forced the fear to recede and tried to think positively. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to fly her here. They could’ve easily killed her in San Diego. No one knew about the backup or they’d have taken it. Now all she had to do was get it and herself to the authorities. Monty would help her. Life wasn’t so bad. She spoke too soon. It started to rain. Great.
The second gunshot, closer and intensely scarier, startled her more than the first. She burrowed deeper into the stone, debating whether she should make a run for it. Where would she go? She had even fewer supplies than before. Her mind refused to focus as she struggled to make a decision. Go…or stay? What felt like hours but was probably only minutes dragged on until splashing footsteps running toward her made her will herself smaller. She ignored her racing heart and searched for something, anything, she could use to defend herself. She had nothing. A hand was thrust in front of her face.
“We have to go.” Relief at seeing Monty was quickly replaced with fear as he shot a look over his shoulder. “Now.”
She took his hand and he yanked her to her feet. In his other hand, he still held the gun.
“Dig down deep, Taylor. We have to run.”
She had questions. But this wasn’t the time for any of them.
They jogged alongside the creek bed, her heart hammering so fast, she cursed herself for allowing her gym membership to lapse. In her defense, business had been good, and her free time had disappeared. If only she’d known her sudden popularity was a lie. She stumbled over leaf-covered branches, but Monty didn’t let her fall. He grabbed her free arm and righted her without so much as a word.
“Where are we going?” Where could they go that they wouldn’t be found? She herself had had no idea where she’d been heading or where she could hide without starving to death on this godforsaken mountain.
He stared back at the direction they’d come. “Never thought I’d miss that cabin. Keep going,” he said, dragging her through thick pines.
“Why can’t we go back to the cabin? What happened back there?”
She got no reply. They veered right as Monty tugged her toward a steep incline. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to get much-needed oxygen. If she survived this ordeal, she’d hit the gym every day. They stopped at the bottom as Monty stared at the climb, then at her, then back to the hill.
“You go ahead. I should be able to stop you if you slip. Now go.” He put the gun down the back of his jeans and positioned himself behind her.
Should be able to stop her? The incline was ridiculous. Her lungs burned, and being flat on her ass for two days hadn’t helped her legs any. “I don’t—”
“You don’t have a choice. Move.” He gave her a little shove.
Arguing would no doubt be pointless. She climbed, watching for anything to grab should she have that slip. Her sneakers were useless. The incline grew steeper and muddier with each passing minute, and she had to rely on arm muscle—which she didn’t have—to pull herself up. If not for the dead tree stumps stopping her downward decent, she’d be imitating Jack and Jill again. As if her thoughts jinxed her, she lost her footing. Her foot missed the small stump she was going for and slid. Two very solid hands on her ass not only stopped her decline but kept boosting her forward.
“You’re moving too slow,” he said without so much as one gasp for breath.
She bet his gym membership wasn’t collecting dust.
Closer to the top, he wrapped his hand around one of her ankles and secured it over of a protruding rock. “Snag that branch just over your head and hang on. I’m going ahead to pull you up the rest of the way.”
Pull or drag?
Not only did he pass her with the ease of a seasoned climber, he reached the top before her arms and legs could protest the precarious grip he’d put her in. He gave her his hand…and a few seconds to catch her breath, then yanked her up. She was beginning to feel about as helpful as all this rain.
“I don’t think anyone is following us.” No one she could see.
“That’s because they’re too busy setting up camp in my cabin.”
“They?”
“Your friend Daniel has friends.” He ducked under a broken pine branch. “I took one out, but there were more. Cross your fingers they leave, and we can double back later.”
“Friends?” He took one out? The rain came down harder and she had to yell. Daniel had called in the cavalry? Honestly, how much trouble was she worth? Or a better question: how deep was the operation they’d used her dating service to hide? And who the hell were these people?
“Talk later. Move now,” he said, helping her up another, smaller incline with more help than necessary.
If she’d figured out this was bigger than she’d originally thought, Monty had figured out Daniel wasn’t an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t hard to read. He was mad.
One bowl of soup wasn’t enough; after another ten
minutes of plowing onward, her energy gave out. “Monty, I can’t.” Her trembling lips were sucking dry whatever strength she had left. Her legs tingled, and Monty was more towing her than she was walking. She’d think about how cold she was later…if there was a later.
Stopping, he checked his watch, then scanned the area as if searching for something, completely oblivious to her panting like a worn-out dog. Then, with a satisfied smile, he grabbed her hand again. She’d ask where the hell they were going, but honestly, she didn’t want to spare her much-needed breath. He hauled her another forty or so paces before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a mass of black spruce…at the foot of another large incline. She craned her neck to see how high this one was, but all she saw was a dark mass. This was no hill. And no way could she climb it.
“I can’t do it, Monty,” she said, on the verge of crying like some pathetic wimp. She was better than this. She’d survived two days on her own in the wilderness. “Is there another way around? My legs won’t make it up there.” She squinted against the rain.
“We’re not going over it,” he said, finally speaking to her. “Let’s go.” He dropped to his knees, taking her with him. “Try to stay close. The sooner we get out of sight, the better.” Then he crawled under the branches.
Was he planning to hide in the bushes? Given she didn’t have a better idea, she followed. Inside the cover of trees, the rain couldn’t pass through the dense branches. And with the sun all but gone, they were hidden. But, wet as she was, the ground was colder than anywhere she’d spent the night. Her jaw ached from clenching the tremors away, and icy dampness permeated her already soaked jeans. At least she wasn’t alone. They could share body heat. She could really use some of that right about now.
Without warning, Monty stopped. She peaked around him and noticed they’d reached the base of the rocky incline. They’d gone in as far as they could go. Would it be enough?