Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
WILLA
The rope bites into my wrists and ankles, rough hemp that scratches every time I shift even an inch.
I’m tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a dingy front room that smells like mildew, old fish, and cigarette smoke.
The only light comes from a single bare bulb swinging overhead and the orange glow from the woodstove in the corner.
My bare feet are freezing against the dirty plank floor, but at least I’m not completely naked anymore.
Matthew tossed one of his old flannels over my head after they dragged me inside—like a sick joke, dressing me in something that reeks of his cologne so I’d remember who owns me.
The fabric hangs loose on my frame, sleeves too long, hem barely covering my thighs.
It’s better than nothing, but every brush of it against my skin reminds me how exposed I still am.
I’m shaking. Not just from the cold. Fear has settled deep in my bones, a living thing that makes my teeth chatter and my stomach twist into knots.
Colt. God, Colt. He was in the shower when they came.
He doesn’t even know yet. By the time he steps out, I’ll be long gone.
The thought of him finding the splintered door, the drag marks in the snow, my flannel on the bedroom floor—it breaks something inside me worse than the zip-ties ever could.
I love him. I was supposed to wake up tomorrow and start our life together.
Teach in town, come home to the cabin, let him fill me again and again until our future grew inside me. Now I might never see him again.
Matthew paces in front of me, boots thudding heavy on the floor.
He looks the same as always—expensive haircut, sharp jaw, eyes that used to make me think he was charming.
Tonight they’re wild, bloodshot from whatever he’s been drinking.
He stops, crouches so we’re eye level, and grabs my chin hard enough to bruise.
“Where is it, Willa?” His voice is low, almost gentle, like he’s still pretending to be the boyfriend who used to buy me flowers after he hit me. “The flash drive. The backups. All of it. You’re going to tell me right now, or things are going to get real ugly.”
I swallow hard, tasting blood from where I bit my lip in the van. “I don’t have it anymore.”
He laughs, short and ugly. “Bullshit. You think I’m stupid? You copied everything. Bank records, photos, the audio where I talk about moving weight. You were always such a smart little bitch.” He squeezes my chin harder. “Give me the drive and maybe I’ll let you walk out of here breathing.”
One of his friends—Dane, the tall one with the neck tattoo—leans against the wall, smirking.
“She looks cold, Matt. Maybe we should warm her up while she thinks about it.” He reaches out and trails a finger down my bare thigh where the flannel has ridden up.
I jerk away, the chair scraping loud on the floor.
“Don’t touch her,” Matthew snaps, standing so fast the chair rocks. “She’s mine. Always has been.”
Dane holds up his hands, but his eyes linger on my chest, on the way the flannel gaps open. “Just saying. A little incentive might loosen her tongue.”
The third guy, Kyle, chuckles from the kitchenette where he’s cracking open a beer. “Yeah, Matt. Share the wealth. She’s got nice tits. We could take turns asking questions.”
My heart slams against my ribs so hard I feel dizzy.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears leaking out anyway.
This is it. This is how it ends—not with Colt’s arms around me, but with these animals.
I picture the kids in my class waiting for story time tomorrow.
June’s worried face when I don’t show up at the library.
Colt’s green eyes going empty when he realizes I’m gone forever. A sob catches in my throat.
“Shut the fuck up,” Matthew growls at his friends. “Both of you. She’s not a toy. She’s the one who tried to ruin everything. I handle this.”
But Dane doesn’t listen. He steps closer, grabs a fistful of my hair, yanks my head back. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell Daddy where the drive is and maybe I’ll be gentle when I—”
The front door explodes inward with a crack like thunder.
Everything happens at once.
Bright light—flashbangs—blinds me. I scream, the sound raw and terrified. Gunshots pop—controlled, precise, not the wild spray I expected. Men shout. Boots thunder across the floor.
“Sheriff’s Department! Hands up! On the ground!”
I can’t see. My ears ring. The chair tips sideways from the force of someone slamming into it—Matthew, I think. He hits the floor cursing. More shouts. A body crashes into the table, glass shattering.
Then strong arms are around me, lifting the chair upright, cutting the ropes with quick, sure slices. The flannel is tugged down modestly over my thighs. A familiar scent—cedar, leather, gun oil—cuts through the chaos.
“Willa. Baby, it’s me. I’ve got you.”
Colt.
His voice cracks on my name, rough with fear and relief. I collapse against his chest the second my wrists are free, sobbing so hard I can’t breathe. His arms band around me like steel, one big hand cradling the back of my head, the other stroking down my spine.
“You’re safe,” he whispers fiercely into my hair. “I’ve got you. They’re done. It’s over.”
I cling to him, fingers digging into his coat, face buried in his neck. “I thought—I thought they’d kill me. Or worse. Colt, I was so scared. I kept thinking about you in the shower, about our life, about never seeing you again—”
“Shh. I know, sweetheart. I know.” He rocks me gently, even as the room fills with more voices—Hank reading rights, cuffs clicking, Matthew screaming about his father the judge.
“I want my lawyer! This is bullshit! She’s lying—”
“Save it, James,” Hank says, voice cold as the mountain wind.
“We’ve got the original flash drive from Colt’s cabin.
Digital copies already sent to the DA in the next county and the feds.
Assault, kidnapping, drug trafficking—enough to bury all three of you for a long time. Judge Daddy can’t touch this one.”
Matthew’s curses turn into desperate bargaining as they haul him up. Dane and Kyle are already face-down, zip-tied, deputies reading them their rights in calm, steady tones.
Colt doesn’t let go of me. He shrugs out of his heavy coat and wraps it around my shoulders, zipping it up to my chin so I’m swallowed in his warmth and scent.
Then he lifts me—chair and all at first, then just me—carrying me outside into the freezing night like I weigh nothing.
Snow crunches under his boots. The cold air hits my face, but I’m safe inside his coat, safe inside his arms.
A tall, serious-looking man I don’t know waits by a truck—Rhett, I realize from the way Colt called him earlier. He nods once, respectful. “She okay?”
“She will be,” Colt says, voice thick.
He sets me gently in the passenger seat of his truck, which someone must have brought down. Blankets appear—someone’s emergency kit. He tucks them around me, then cups my face with both hands, thumbs brushing away tears and the dried blood on my lip.
“I’m so sorry, Willa. I should’ve heard them. Should’ve been faster.”
“You came,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “You came for me. That’s all that matters.”
His forehead rests against mine. “Always. Every time. Forever.”
Hank walks up, badge glinting under the truck lights.
“She needs medical. Hospital in town’s ready.
We’ve got statements later, but right now—get her warm, get her checked.
The James boys are going away. Feds are already interested in the drug network.
Judge Harlan’s getting a visit at dawn. It’s over, Colt. She’s safe.”
Colt nods once, jaw tight, but his eyes never leave mine. “Thank you, Hank.”
Hank tips his hat to me, gentle. “Ma’am. You’re one tough lady. Glad we got here in time.”
They load Matthew and the others into cruisers.
Matthew’s still yelling about lawsuits, about his father fixing this, but his voice fades as the doors slam.
Sirens wail once, then cut off—professional, efficient.
The nightmare ends not with a bang, but with the quiet click of handcuffs and the steady voice of the law finally winning.
Colt climbs in beside me, starts the truck, cranks the heat. He reaches over and laces our fingers together, his big, callused hand swallowing mine.
“You’re coming home with me,” he says. Not a question. “Cabin’s getting a new door tomorrow. New security. And you’re never sleeping away from me again.”
I squeeze his hand, fresh tears spilling but these are different—relief, joy, love so big it hurts. “I’m never leaving. I meant what I said last night. I’m moving in. Teaching in town. Building a life with you. Horses. Babies. All of it.”
His eyes shine in the dashboard light—green and fierce and soft all at once. “Good. Because I’m all in, Willa. I love you more than I knew a man could love. You’re my woman. My home. My everything.”
He leans across the console and kisses me—slow, deep, reverent. Not claiming, just promising. I taste salt from our tears and the faint metallic hint of my own blood, but underneath it is us—cedar and smoke and forever.
The truck rolls down the mountain, following Hank’s cruiser. Behind us, the old fishing cabin disappears into the dark. Ahead, lights of Iron Peak twinkle like stars finally coming out after the storm.
I lean my head on Colt’s shoulder, exhausted but lighter than I’ve ever been. The fear is already fading, replaced by warmth. By certainty.
Matthew is gone. The evidence is safe. The future we whispered about while he was still inside me is waiting.
We’re going home.
Together.
And this time, no one is ever taking me away again.