Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Rosemary dug her feet into the floorboard, pushing herself backward, but there was nowhere to go.
The seat was firm against her back, preventing her retreat.
Her heart stuttered, then sprinted into overdrive.
Sweat pooled at the edges of her wig. Instinct demanded she wipe the perspiration away, but she was afraid to lift her hands, afraid to move at all.
She didn’t want to do anything to startle the man with the giant gun.
Strong fingers squeezed her thigh. “It’s all right, Rose.”
Aleksei put the truck in park and climbed out slowly, keeping his arms away from his body, bent up at the elbows, his fingers splayed wide.
He left the door ajar. Was it because he wanted to leave open the option of a quick escape?
Or because he hadn’t wanted to turn his back on the gun to close it? Neither option was comforting.
“Hey, Virus,” Aleksei’s voice floated in through the open door.
He sounded calm and pleasant, as if he was greeting a friend in the supermarket, not facing an irritated, broad-shouldered, sober-faced, former Marine holding what looked like an automatic weapon.
Not that she knew anything about guns. The first time she’d seen one other than on a screen was when Aleksei had shot out the streetlights in the parking lot at Ricketts Glen.
“What are you thinking sneaking up on me in the middle of the night, Thompson?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
Aleksei’s rumbling laughter filled the air, and her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. She didn’t find anything funny about this scenario, but if Aleksei was relaxed, things must be okay. Maybe this was some weird type of Marine humor.
“You know damn well I’m not sneaking up on you.
Your motion sensors and cameras picked me up the second I turned on the road, and I used my fingerprint to open the gate, so you knew exactly who was driving up.
Stop acting like a dick, put the gun down, and open the gate. You’re giving my girl a panic attack.”
He’d called her his girl. She should be offended.
She was a woman, not a girl, and after the shit he’d pulled, she certainly wasn’t his, but her wishy-washy, traitorous heart still softened.
Was this endearment part of his act, him trying to lull her into believing his affection?
He’d been an undercover agent, so he was, essentially, an expert con artist who just happened to work for the good guys.
His con job had definitely done a number on her.
She hated feeling like she couldn’t trust her own mind or heart.
“I’m not running a bed and breakfast here. You know my place is rustic.” Virus waved the butt of his rifle toward the passenger seat. “You sure she’s up for it?”
“Rose is as strong as either of us. And she’s a hell of a lot nicer.” Aleksei’s tone shifted from light to weary. “Now, please open the goddamn gate. We’re in trouble, and I’m so goddamn tired I can’t think straight. We need to rest.”
And just like that, no questions asked and no explanations demanded, Virus slung the gun over his shoulder and opened the gate.
Rosemary released the breath she’d been holding in a long, slow exhale.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about this grumpy, gun-toting, former Marine, but like Aleksei, she was too damn tired right now to think about it.
An hour later, as she was sitting on a metal four-poster double bed, brushing out her wig, her opinion of Virus had already shifted toward the positive.
She’d visited the outhouse and used the basin of warm water Virus had placed on an antique-looking dresser to wash her head and face and brush her teeth.
The smile he’d given her when he’d told her she should call him Virus instead of Petros was brief but kind.
He didn’t know her, but he’d helped her anyway, and he hadn’t lied to her.
So, at this point, in her book, he already had more points than Aleksei.
She shifted on the surprisingly comfortable bed.
Despite the spare furniture, the lack of an indoor shower and toilet, and the fact that the cabin looked like it might have been built in the 1800s, the linens Virus gave her to make up the bed smelled freshly laundered, and the mattress was a modern pillow-top style.
She glanced at Thor, who covered half the bed, snoring.
She should change his name to Benedict Arnold.
When Aleksei had come to collect him for dinner and a quick walk with Jaka, Thor had trotted along happily without hesitation.
They were in full role reversal. Now, Thor was the one who adored Aleksei, and she was the one with reservations.
She blew out a breath, rustling the hair on the wig in her hand.
It felt like betrayal, but at least it assured her that Aleksei was trustworthy at a basic level.
If he weren’t, Thor wouldn’t want Aleksei anywhere near her, and that would make things challenging, since it seemed they’d be cooped up in the small cabin for at least a day or two.
The house was a single story with only three rooms. The combined kitchen and living area was similar to the cabin at Ricketts Glen, but Virus’s sink had an old-fashioned hand pump instead of a regular faucet.
Hopefully, she’d hidden her shock when she saw it.
She didn’t want Virus to think she didn’t appreciate what he was doing for them.
The other two rooms in the cabin were bedrooms. Virus’s eyebrows had winged up when Aleksei announced he would sleep on the couch, but he hadn’t commented.
He hadn’t said much at all since they’d arrived.
Aleksei had shown her the outhouse and explained that there was a cistern outside that fed a cold-water outdoor shower.
Despite it being spring, the temperature was in the forties, so she skipped the shower and used the basin. At least the cabin had electricity.
She gave the wig one last brush. She didn’t like the idea of sleeping bald when she was separated from both men by only thin sheets of plywood.
Her soul was battered, and the wig was her protective armor, but she could not put it back on right now.
By the time she’d gotten settled in the room, her head had been so itchy and irritated that it had taken multiple washes with the blessedly cool water to settle it down. Her scalp needed some time to recover.
She rose and pulled her two wig stands from her suitcase on the floor and set them on the dresser.
She placed both the wig in her hands and the damp wig she’d bagged up earlier on the stands.
She was exhausted. The last thing Aleksei had said to her before she shut the bedroom door was, “Don’t worry.
You’re safe here.” Maybe it was wishful thinking or fatigue slowing her brain, but she trusted those words.
She climbed under the covers with Thor snuggled next to her and taking up more of the bed than she did.
When she closed her eyes, sleep came hard, fast, and dreamless.
Woof, woof, woof.
The barks jolted her awake. She reached for her phone to check the time, but it wasn’t on the nightstand next to the bed. Right. It was in a dumpster at Ricketts Glen.
There was no clock in the room, but the sun shimmered brightly around the curtains.
She climbed out of the cozy bed and pushed one of the tree-patterned panels aside.
The sun was high in the sky. Did that mean it was after noon?
A grin spread across her lips. She was acting like a pioneer woman, trying to tell the time by the position of the sun.
Thor barked at her again, standing tall in front of the bedroom door.
“All right. All right,” Rosemary muttered.
She preferred to ease into the morning, but Thor always woke up ready for action. That was one of the very few downsides of pet ownership. She found a sweatshirt in her suitcase and threw it on over the tank top she’d slept in, settled her cap and wig into place, and slipped on her Uggs.
Thor barked again.
“I know. I know. You need to go out. I hear you. I need the outhouse too.”
Floorboards creaked under her feet as she made her way to the front door. The house was empty and quiet. A coffee machine with a half-full coffeepot sat on the counter, tempting her.
Bathroom first. Then coffee.
She opened the cabin door, and the beauty of the land nearly stopped her forward motion.
She was in the mountains surrounded by trees.
A large area behind the house had been cleared and turned into fields, gardens, and a small orchard.
Behind the clearing, the landscape shifted back to thick forest. She could hear a creek rushing in the distance.
Last night, Aleksei had mentioned the property was more than five hundred acres.
Her mother would have loved it here.
Thor dashed up the dirt and gravel road that ran in front of the house.
Aleksei had let the dogs run off leash last night, so Rosemary assumed it was okay.
She didn’t want to do anything to irritate Virus.
Not just because he was a mean-looking, gun-toting, former Marine who thought grunts were an appropriate form of speech, but also because he had allowed them into his home when everything about his body language said he preferred to be alone.
She was grateful for that and wanted to be a respectful houseguest.
After both she and Thor had taken care of their personal needs, the house was still empty, so she helped herself to coffee and made toast with butter and homemade blackberry jelly she found in the fridge.
It was a simple breakfast, but the jelly was the best she’d ever had, just the right mix of sweet and tart, and the coffee was pure heaven.
Relaxation flowed through her with the first sip.
It was always that way with coffee. And wine.