Orcs Do It Harder (Orcs Love Curvy Girls #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Anna

I’m still wearing the jacket when I see the package on my doorstep.

It’s Keric’s jacket, technically. The leather one that’s so big and smells like pine and sunshine. “You’re cold,” he’d said when he draped it over my shoulders. Like he’d been paying attention to my comfort.

That spectacular moment replays in my mind during the short drive home from Ellie and Garlen’s lovely wedding ceremony and reception.

My best friend got married today in a fancy tent in her backyard and I was asked to do her make up.

It was a wonderful day. The best part was when the hot-as-sin Keric Irontree, the over six feet tall intimidating orc, sat next to me at the reception.

Another dreamy sigh escapes my lips as I remember that spectacular moment.

During the short walk from my car toward my apartment, my head fills with happy-tired memories. A stupid, dangerous feeling blossoms in my chest.

Hope.

I haven’t felt hope in three years. Which is probably why I’m not paying attention the way I should be and almost step on the odd package that sits outside my front door.

My hands freeze mid-air. Wtf? I haven’t ordered anything and there’s no delivery label or postage. It’s just a plain brown box, maybe eight inches square, positioned in the center of my doormat like it’s been waiting there for me.

The hope instantly dissipates.

No… Not now. Not when I was just starting to.

.. Ugh. I scan the area. I live in a very safe, one-story apartment complex.

All the doors face towards an open, central landscaped courtyard.

My parking spot is super close to the front door of my apartment.

And the snow is cleared daily, which is one of the best reasons to live here.

Grr.

I check for watchers, listen for movement and assess the exits.

My keys are already in my hand, the sharpest one protruding between my fingers.

I quickly pick up the light package and unlock my door in one smooth motion, then slip inside to re-lock the deadbolt behind me.

This temporary apartment is exactly as tidy as I left it hours ago.

The package sits on my coffee table now, brown, innocent and absolutely terrifying.

I stare at it from across my tiny living room, Keric’s jacket still around my shoulders, my phone clutched in my other hand.

His number is in there now because he gave it to me at the wedding, typing it in himself while Ellie’s six-year-old daughter, Zoe, distracted me with stories about Loki, their darling corgi.

Keric’s large green fingers moved across my screen and I thought about those same hands on my shoulders, pulling me back to safety when Garlen had his “monster” episode at the school.

My thumb hovers over Keric’s name. No. I can’t drag him into this. Can’t drag anyone into this.

That package isn’t going to open itself.

So, I grab a kitchen knife and slice through the tape. My hands are steady. It’s only later, when the adrenaline fades, that I shake.

Inside, wrapped in tissue paper is a stack of photographs.

Oh hell. The first photo is my old driver’s license.

Not Anna Kim, the teacher who manages to remain invisible despite being the head of the English Department.

No, it’s Dr. Anna Lee, associate professor of literature, smiling at the camera with long black hair flowing past my shoulders.

I’m wearing my favorite red blouse in that photo.

Bold, confident red, the kind of color I haven’t touched in three years.

Underneath is my university faculty ID from before; Dr. Anna Lee printed right there in official typeface.

The prestigious school, the corner office, the life I’d built and lost in a single night.

My breath comes shorter now. The next items are recent surveillance photos of me walking into Black Oak Academy, coffee in hand, that stupid beige cardigan I hide in.

Another in the faculty lounge with Ellie, laughing at something she’d said.

And then at a staff meeting, sitting in the back like always, trying to be invisible.

A photo from today, at Garlen and Ellie’s wedding.

I’m next to Keric at one of those round reception tables and I’m looking up at him, and the expression on my face…

I look unguarded. It’s obvious I think the sun, moon and stars hang on Keric’s every word.

My hands start to shake now, tissue paper crinkling. There’s a card at the bottom of the box made from heavy, expensive, white cardstock. The kind of detail that makes my skin crawl because it means they’re not hurting for resources. The note is printed in all caps.

WE’VE FOUND YOU, DR. LEE. YOU HAVE 24 HOURS. GIVE US WHAT WE NEED AND NO ONE GETS HURT.

The card slips from my fingers. I can’t breathe. The room tilts and I slide to the floor somehow and I can’t get enough air into my lungs. They’ve been watching. For how long? They know about Ellie and the school. About Keric and Zoe.

Is Zoe safe, or would they hurt her too?

That last thought snaps me back to functioning.

I suck in a breath, then another, forcing oxygen past the panic.

I should call the FBI. That’s what I was supposed to do three years ago before Jonas died.

But I don’t trust them because someone there leaked information.

How else did they find Jonas and murder him so quickly?

And if I call the FBI now, they’ll want the evidence immediately and take control of everything—the important evidence that’s my only leverage and all the backups that give me any control over my own survival.

Plus, the note says twenty-four hours. The FBI would need weeks to set up protection and coordinate safe houses.

I don’t have weeks. I barely have tonight.

And once that leak at the FBI has the evidence, what’s to stop the bad guys from just killing me anyway?

At least while I have it, I’m valuable alive.

I can’t let any harm come to Ellie and Zoe. I must protect them.

No. I’m still on my own, like I’ve been for the last three years, pretending my name is Anna Kim and just trying to stay alive. Okay. Okay. I’ve done this before. I know how to lock down emotions and execute the plan.

I leave the photos scattered on my living room floor and go straight to my bedroom.

The go-bag is in the back of my closet, behind the winter coats and my rain boots.

It’s always packed, always ready. I learned that lesson the hard way.

Three changes of clothes, all neutral colors.

Cash. Protein bars that won’t expire for another year.

A first aid kit and a toiletries bag. The fundamentals of disappearing.

I pull it out and set it on my bed, then go to my desk.

The fake IDs are taped under the bottom drawer.

I learned that trick from a thriller novel, which is either genius or pathetic.

Two passports, three driver’s licenses, all with my face and different names.

Anna Kim is just one of several identities I’ve created over the past three years, but it’s the one I like the best because it’s closest to the real me.

These IDs are my insurance policy, the ones I bought from a very expensive forger during my first desperate weeks on the run.

I add them to the bag along with the hard drives with backups of backups of backups.

Every piece of evidence I collected, every file I copied, every email I saved.

The information they want, the information that could bring down some very powerful people.

The evidence that got someone killed.

My hands pause as painful memories flood my mind.

My closest friend at the university, Dr. Jonas Webb, found dead in his office, apparent suicide.

No note. Jonas was my friend and he wasn’t suicidal.

Jonas had a wife and twin daughters and a sabbatical planned in Greece.

First, he planned with me to give our evidence to the FBI…

and then Jonas was dead, and I knew I was next, so I ran.

I keep moving.

Can’t think about Jonas or his wife’s face at the funeral. I watched from across the street, hidden behind sunglasses and a rental car.

Focus. I need to move. Bus station, then switch to a train, then... somewhere. Anywhere. I must leave to keep Ellie and Zoe safe, it’s the only way.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I blink with surprise. It’s a text from Keric. Did you get home safely?

I bite at my lip and stare at the message.

He’d called and I missed it and he didn’t leave a voicemail, instead he’s texting.

He’s so kind, checking up on me to make sure I’m okay.

Normally I’d be sitting on my bed, giddy at the thought of Keric Irontree texting me so quickly after we’d spoken at the wedding.

But instead, I’m filled with dread. The little typing indicator pops up, then disappears, then pops up again like he’s trying to figure out what else to say.

I don’t know what to say either and I need to respond.

Act normal.

I decide to stick with the truth, trying to not say anything that would lead to a long discussion because I’ve got to cut this short. Yes, I’m fine. I enjoyed talking with you tonight.

He responds quickly, Good. Sleep well, Anna.

I whimper in and pout my lips. It’s such a nice response.

I sit down hard on my bed, still wearing his jacket.

I want to scream because I was so close to having something real in my life.

Keric looking at me across that table, saying he’d been paying attention.

The possibility of more was right there, so close I could touch it.

More than this half-life I’ve been living for three years.

In order to stay alive, I’ve become a ghost.