Chapter 6
Mia
My feet hit the ground harder than I’d planned, pine needles crunching beneath my shoes.
The drop from the bathroom window had been farther than expected, sending a jolt through my knees that I absorbed as quietly as possible.
The flashlight Ryan had given me dug into my back pocket, a hard reminder of his instructions—use it only if necessary.
The night air hit my lungs like ice water, sharp and clarifying after the stale closeness of his room. My arms stung from yesterday’s scratches.
Southeast. Stay parallel to the road. Eight miles to town. Four to five hours moving carefully through the woods.
I could do this.
Three-quarters moon, just like Ryan had said. Enough light to see by once my eyes adjusted. The tree line beckoned, promising cover. Beyond that, the road that would guide me to town. To safety. To phone calls that would bring real law enforcement, not whatever game Ryan was playing at.
My legs trembled with each step, muscles still weak from yesterday’s panic attack and today’s self-defense training. But I kept moving. Freedom pulled me forward like gravity.
The smell of cigarette smoke stopped me cold.
I froze behind a thick pine, pressing my back against the rough bark. Voices carried on the night air—Snake’s distinctive rasp and Diesel’s heavier drawl. They were maybe thirty feet away, standing between me and the road.
“—still don’t sit right with me.” Snake’s voice, followed by the sound of a zipper. Taking a piss, from the sound of it.
“What doesn’t?” Diesel asked, his cigarette glowing orange in the darkness.
“Coop. This whole thing with the girl.”
My breath caught in my throat. I pressed harder against the tree, willing myself invisible.
“He’s doing what he said he’d do,” Diesel said. “You heard her screaming yesterday. Heard him knocking her around today.”
“Yeah, I heard it.” Snake zipped up, moved closer to where Diesel stood. “And that’s what bothers me. Six weeks, we’ve known Coop. His reputation is all business—that story about the witness in Billings? Said it was one shot, done. Those dealers in Bozeman? Claims he handled it quick and clean.”
“Maybe he just wanted to have some fun first.”
“Since when does Coop want that kind of fun? For over a month, the man’s been like a machine. All business, no emotion. Now, suddenly he’s possessive over some piece of ass?”
I peeked around the tree. The orange glow of Diesel’s cigarette moved as he shifted. “You think he knows her?”
“I think something’s off. Him wanting to go drinking in town? He never drinks with us. Always has some excuse. And out of nowhere, he wants to play buddy-buddy over beers?”
“Could just be celebrating. Man finally got laid after six weeks of nothing.”
“Or he was planning to let her slip away while we were all drunk.” Snake’s voice had gone deadly quiet. “You notice how he positioned himself in the vehicle? Always between us and her.”
“Maybe he just doesn’t like the thought of sharing.”
My stomach twisted into knots. They suspected him.
“What are you saying?” Diesel’s voice had lost its casual tone.
“I’m saying we check on them. Make sure she’s still there. If she’s not…”
“If she’s not, Coop’s a cop.”
“And we kill him. Slowly. Make an example of him for Oliver.”
“Oliver doesn’t like cops,” Diesel agreed. “Remember what he did to that DEA agent last year?”
“Took him three days to die. Oliver’s got a talent for keeping them conscious through the worst of it.”
They moved away, their voices fading as they headed back toward the lodge. I stayed frozen against the tree, heart hammering so hard I was sure they’d hear it.
If I left, Ryan would die.
Not maybe. Not possibly. When they checked and found me gone, they’d know exactly what he was. An undercover cop who’d infiltrated their operation. They’d torture him. Kill him.
Make him an example.
I started walking again, feet finding the path toward the road. Toward town. Toward safety.
He’d locked me in a closet. Used my worst fear against me because it was the only way to convince those monsters I was broken.
Let those men think I was his property because the alternative was a bullet in my head.
My arms still bore the scratches from my own fingernails, the evidence of panic so severe I’d tried to claw through my own skin.
The memory made me sick. But so did the thought of his dying because of me.
The road appeared through the trees, a pale ribbon in the moonlight. Eight miles to town. Four hours to freedom. To a phone call that would save my life but end his.
Even if I called his friends the moment I reached town, how long would it take them to respond? To believe me? To organize a team and drive out to this remote compound? Hours at a minimum. By then, Snake and Diesel would have already discovered my absence. Ryan would already be dead.
“Damn it,” I whispered to the darkness.
He’d spent six weeks with these monsters to stop weapons from reaching people who’d use them for mass murder. He was trying to save lives—not just mine, but potentially hundreds of others. And if I kept walking, all of that would be for nothing.
I turned around.
The journey back felt longer than the escape. Every shadow could be Snake or Diesel. Every sound could be someone discovering me. My hands shook as I navigated the darkness, using trees for cover, freezing at every noise.
The compound materialized through the trees, still dark and quiet. The bathroom window gaped open like a mouth.
I circled the building, staying in the shadows, trying to figure out any other way around this. But there was none. I had to go back, or Ryan would die. I had to stop wasting time.
Getting back in the window was harder than getting out. I had to go head first, catching myself with my hands to avoid crashing onto the toilet. The lid wobbled between my fingers as I pulled my legs through, trying to move silently.
The shower was running.
Steam filled the small bathroom, fogging the mirror. But the shower stall was empty, water streaming down with no one beneath it. A decoy. Ryan was buying time, making them think I was in here.
Voices came from beyond the bathroom door. Snake’s distinctive rasp, Diesel’s laugh, and Ryan’s voice—casual, annoyed.
“—she’s in the fucking shower. Christ, can’t a man have five minutes of peace?”
“Just checking, Coop.” Snake’s voice, closer now. “Wouldn’t want your toy wandering off.”
“Where would she go? It’s almost ten miles to town through woods she doesn’t know. She’s not that stupid.”
“Maybe not stupid,” Snake said slowly. “But desperate people do desperate things.”
“She’s learned her place. Took some convincing, but she gets it now. I told her I’d take care of her, once Oliver pays all of us when the sales go through.”
“Maybe. But you seem awfully protective of someone you just met. Someone who’s supposed to be disposable. Not even willing to share her with us at all.”
Ryan’s voice hardened. “I told you she’s mine until I say otherwise. You got a problem with that?”
“Maybe I do.” Snake’s voice had gone deadly quiet. “Maybe I think you’ve gone soft. Maybe I think you knew this girl before.”
“You calling me a liar?”
“I’m calling you suspicious. First time you’ve ever kept a witness alive. First time you’ve wanted to go drinking with us. First time for a lot of things.”
Diesel’s heavier voice joined in. “Snake’s got a point, Coop. You’ve been acting different since we found her.”
“I’ve been acting like a man who finally got some pussy after six weeks of nothing. That’s all. So both of you fuck off.”
“Or you’ve been acting like a cop trying to protect a witness.”
The accusation hung in the air like a loaded weapon. I heard movement—chairs scraping, boots on floorboards.
“Say that again.” Ryan’s voice was ice.
“You heard me. Maybe we should check if your girlfriend’s really in that shower, or if you’ve got her halfway to town by now.”
“Back off, Snake.”
“Or what? You’ll show us those famous skills of yours? The ones nobody’s actually seen?”
More movement. A thud like someone being shoved against a wall.
“I said, back the fuck off.”
“Make me.”
Shit, this was getting out of control fast. I had to do something, or I’d be too late to help Ryan at all.
I stripped quickly, leaving my clothes in a pile. The towel hanging on the door was thin and rough, but it would sell the story. I wrapped it around myself, hair still dry but hoping the steam would provide enough cover for that detail.
The sounds from the other room were escalating—furniture being knocked over, grunts of struggle.
“Get on your knees!” Snake’s voice, sharp with authority.
“Go to hell.”
“I said, get on your fucking knees, or I’ll put a bullet in you right now!”
I stepped out of the bathroom, towel clutched to my chest, trying to look like I’d just finished showering. The scene in front of me made my blood freeze.
Snake had his gun pressed against Ryan’s temple. Diesel stood behind him, his own weapon drawn but pointed at the floor. Ryan was on his knees, hands behind his head, the picture of surrender. A fresh bruise was already forming on his cheekbone.
Our eyes met across the room. For just a second, surprise flashed, then relief, before he carefully masked it behind Coop’s annoyed facade once again.
“See?” Ryan’s voice came out steady despite the gun at his head. “I told you assholes she was in the fucking shower.”
Snake’s eyes tracked over me, taking in the towel, the steam still billowing from the bathroom, the scratches on my arms and neck from yesterday’s panic in the closet. A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that made my skin crawl.
“Well, well.” He lowered the gun but didn’t holster it. “Guess Coop was telling the truth.”
Diesel made a sound that might have been disappointment. “Would’ve been fun to break in a cop.”
“Still could be fun to break in his toy,” Snake said, eyes still on me. “Those are some pretty marks, sweetheart. Coop must’ve worked you over good.”
Ryan stood slowly, deliberately positioning himself between them and me. “She’s mine until I say she’s not. We discussed this.”
“Relax, Coop.” Diesel holstered his weapon. “Just making sure you hadn’t gone soft on us.”
“The only thing soft about this situation is your brain if you think I’d risk this operation for a piece of ass.”
They both laughed—ugly sounds that made me pull the towel tighter.
“Get dressed,” Ryan told me without looking back. “Now. Unless you want to give them what they’re asking for.”
I darted back in the bathroom, grabbing my clothes with shaking hands. Through the door, I could hear them talking.
“Be ready at dawn,” Snake said. “Oliver will be excited to meet his new weapons expert.”
“And the girl comes too, obviously. Can’t leave her here with the compound empty,” Diesel added.
“Obviously.” Ryan’s voice was flat.
“Better keep her in line. Oliver doesn’t tolerate complications. If she becomes a problem…” Snake let the threat hang.
“She won’t be a problem.”
“Good. Because if she runs her mouth or tries anything stupid, it won’t just be her who pays. Oliver will assume you brought a liability to his operation.”
“I said she won’t be a problem.”
“Six hours, Coop. We leave with or without you.”
Their footsteps retreated. The door closed. I heard the lock turn.
I came out of the bathroom fully dressed to find Ryan standing at the window, hands braced against the frame. The moonlight caught his profile—jaw clenched, shoulders rigid with tension.
“You came back.” His voice was rough. “Why the hell did you come back?”
“I overheard them on my way out. If I hadn’t been here, they would have known you were a cop.” I moved closer but kept distance between us. “They were going to kill you. Slowly. Something about what Oliver did to a DEA agent.”
He turned to face me, and the expression on his face was pure agony. “You should have kept running.”
“They would have killed you.”
“That’s my risk to take. My job. Not yours.”
“You were trying to save me,” I said quietly. “I couldn’t let you die for it.”
He laughed, bitter and broken. “Save you? I’ve made everything worse.
Where we’re going tomorrow—Oliver’s compound—it’s even more dangerous.
More isolated. No town for twenty miles.
No escape routes I’ve scouted. And Oliver…
” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “These guys are Boy Scouts compared to Julian Oliver.”
The weight of it settled over me like a funeral shroud. I’d given up my chance at freedom to save him, and in doing so, had trapped myself even deeper in this nightmare.
“I really thought I was going to die,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “When they came in and you weren’t here. Snake had made up his mind—I could see it. The safety was off. His finger was on the trigger.”
His voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly, he was pulling me against him, arms wrapping around me like he was drowning and I was the only solid thing in an ocean of chaos. His whole body shook—just once—a violent shudder that told me exactly how close to death he’d been.
“Thank you,” he breathed against my hair. “God, Mia, thank you. You shouldn’t have come back, but…thank you.”
I let him hold me, felt the desperate grip of his arms, the way his heart hammered against my chest. This wasn’t the calculated embrace from before, designed to sell a lie. This was raw. Real. A man who’d just stepped back from the edge of death, holding on to the person who’d pulled him to safety.
“I couldn’t let them kill you,” I whispered against his shoulder. “Not when you were trying to save me.”
He pulled back just enough to look at my face, his hands coming up to frame it. His thumbs brushed my cheekbones, and for a moment, we just stared at each other—two people trapped in an impossible situation, bound together by trauma and necessity and something else neither of us wanted to name.
“What happens now?”
“Now?” He dropped his hands but stayed close, our knees touching as we sat on the edge of the bed.
“Now we try to survive Oliver. Try to maintain this cover until I can figure out how to get you out. Because where we’re going…
” He shook his head. “The barn was a safe house. The compound here is a waystation. But Oliver’s place? That’s where the real monsters live.”
We sat in silence, both of us realizing the truth of our situation. I’d saved his life, but in doing so, I’d sealed my own fate. Whatever happened next, wherever Oliver was taking us, we were trapped in it together.
The clock on the dresser showed 1:47 a.m. Four hours until dawn. Four hours until we walked even deeper into hell.
Neither of us would sleep tonight.
And both of us knew that by sunrise, everything would be infinitely worse.