CHAPTER 10
HELEN
Okay, I’m ready to admit something that doesn’t come easily to me. I’m currently making a mistake. A big one.
Actually, this is the stupidest thing I have ever done.
Sure, I came out to this mill years ago and I know that I’ve hiked close by it before.
But the reason I’m slowly circling the mill and working my way closer has everything to do with figuring out if this is where the dog fighting is happening now.
The longer I’m here, the more times I circle the area without seeing anything worthwhile, the more exhausted I’m becoming. This is absolutely the last place I should be.
I’m very fucking aware of my current reality and I’m asking myself questions I should have asked before I put my half-cocked plan into motion and jumped from planning it to executing it. But what can I say? Here I am and there’s not much I can do about it now.
You could just leave. Go back to your car and drive away.
I freeze when I hear something rustling someplace far too close. Oh shit.
What if someone has seen me? Could it be whoever those guys were? Is it someone who is even worse? What is going to happen to me?
There’s no way I’ll be able to outrun someone. I can’t remember the last time I did any cardio. Maybe I should think about going on a jog every now and again.
It couldn’t hurt. Right?
But making promises to get in better shape and become a better runner isn’t going to help me right now. No, if I have to make a run for it, I’m probably going to get a cramp which takes me to the ground and makes me a sitting duck.
Fuck.
This was a stupid idea.
The rustling stops and I blow out a relieved breath, even though relief is the last thing I should be feeling right now. Because I’m still in the area around the mill like I’m some fucking private investigator and not a county clerk.
“You’re an idiot,” I hiss the words at myself like saying them out loud is going to make any of this better.
Not surprisingly, calling myself an idiot out loud does nothing to help my current situation.
I’m still crouching down in the loose woods around the mill.
The chilly night air is still starting to creep into my bones in a way which has my jaw clenching to stop me from giving into the need to shiver.
My plan is still crumbling around me as I debate with myself about creeping closer to my destination or giving up on this ridiculousness all together.
I know which choice I should go with, but I also have a stubborn streak in me I don’t get to bring out to play very often.
Even though I hated it, I learned a long time ago that being stubborn wasn’t the way I was going to get through my childhood.
It certainly wasn’t going to help me against my father.
So, I pushed that part of myself down and became agreeable when it mattered and strong when it counted.
Still, that stubbornness has come out to play a few times throughout the years, especially when it came to Jessi being able to follow her heart, dreams, and ambition.
I wasn’t going to let our dad stifle her.
There were more than a few times when I had to show Dad just how stubborn I could be.
But it was for Jessi which is how I justified it to myself. Hell, for all I know Dad justified my defiance in the same way.
He should have known I was going to back up my sister.
He expected the fucking world from me and took my ability to soar as a personal victory all his own.
With Jessi? He wanted to put her in a box, one which was always going to be too small to contain her.
Not only did he wrap his expectations around her, but then he always compared the two of us.
It was never fair and I always fought against it. I could see how it made Jessi curl into herself and try to make herself smaller just to fit. The whole thing broke my heart, and I became her shield while allowing her some room to breathe and find her own path.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I start to move toward the mill again. There’s a big, flat area around the back and I have a feeling if there is something to see, it’ll be there. I’m on the other side of the building and have to make another loop and hope I can get a glimpse of something.
When a twig snaps, I freeze with wide, wild eyes. I don’t even think I breathe for a solid minute. Or it could be an hour for all I fucking know. Time has no meaning when you’re over your head and out of your depth.
Not hearing anything again, I start to move. Every step is taken slowly, probably too slowly.
Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind, one arm snaking around my waist while the other hand clamps down over my mouth just as I open it to scream.
“Helen,” a man hisses in my ear, “you are in so much fucking trouble.”
As a smokey, cedar scent wraps around me, my entire body goes limp. I know that smell. Fuck, I know that voice.
Rhodes’s chest is like granite as it pressed against my back.
I can feel the tension in his body; he’s holding himself perfectly still.
When I try to turn and look at him, his grip on me tightens.
It should piss me off, the way he’s holding me and the threat I feel in the echo of his words, but I’m relieved.
So, fucking relieved.
Rhodes picks me up and hauls me out of the woods around the mill. I don’t fight him; I don’t even thrash in his hold. Why would I when it feels so much better to sink into the feeling of being in his arms?
Even though I know he’s pissed at me.
When I can catch a glimpse of his face, his jaw is set and his lips are pressed into a thin line that is all tempered rage. He doesn’t even look at me.
The way the limited moonlight coming through the canopy makes the lines of his face appear sharp. If I could take a picture of him right now, I would. Talk about worthy of a magazine.
Rhodes really shouldn’t be as hot as he is. It’s not just his looks either, it’s the way he presents himself and the confidence exuding from him. I feel safe in his arms and it’s a feeling I’m not entirely used to.
Sure, I don’t spend my life in a state of constant fear or anything, but this is different. This feels like someone having my back and lending me their strength.
A truck comes into view and before I can ask any questions, he’s pushed me into the back seat while sliding in behind me. The sound of him slamming the door is loud and makes me flinch.
Rhodes’s chest is heaving and if I wasn’t unsure about saying something, I would ask if he’s okay. But I have a feeling he’s not. Because he’s pissed.
When he turns toward me slowly, the fire in his grey eyes has me swallowing hard. His words are slow and measured, “What the fuck are you doing out here, Helen?”
I’m not too proud to admit how much I hate him using my name right now. I miss him calling me sweetheart and would do just about anything to hear the endearment right now.
My face heats and I look away from him while gnawing on bottom lip. He reaches over and pulls my lip free with his thumb. The skin where he’s touching me tingles. I look back up at him but look away quickly because his anger is still right there.
It lives between us, writhing and huffing out billowing smoke in the form of tension.
“I’m sorry,” the words are whispered between us even though I know they’re not enough.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” his voice is hard and I want to shrink back against the door to avoid it.
I don’t like this. Not even a little bit. My stomach clenches and tears well up in my eyes. I blink them back quickly, refusing to get emotional right now.
It’s not the time or the place.
“Jessi and I went to a big market style yard sale over the weekend,” I admit, my words shaky.
The way Rhodes narrows his eyes at me says he has no idea why I’m bringing up my weekend plans. That’s fair, but I do have a point. Maybe. Kind of.
“I overheard some guys talking. They mentioned the dog fighting was happening at the Old Mill, and how the next location needed to be found soon. I wasn’t sure which Old Mill they were talking about, but I’ve been to this one before.”
“You’ve been to this one before?” His tone is glacial and I blink a few times and fight against the feeling rising in my chest.
I haven’t done anything wrong. Sure, I’ve done something stupid, but wrong? I straight my spine and square my shoulders while tugging my hair out of the messy bun it’s in before putting it right back up because it’s a nervous habit of mine and I’m more than a little anxious.
“Yes,” I admit softly, “but it’s been years.
Back in high school, I came to exactly one party out here.
” The look he shoots at me tells me he is not impressed with this information.
I glare at him because I’ll be damned if I’m going to be shamed about something that happened so long ago that it hardly matters.
“I’ve also hiked some of the trials around here, and there’s at least one which gets pretty close to the Old Mill. ”
The grunt he lets out holds zero amusement. I look at the man in front of me and my heart clenches. He’s mad and it’s not like I don’t get it, but I’m not sure I’ve earned this much anger.
“Look,” my voice goes hard, “I wasn’t sure if this was the place they were talking about and before I got anyone involved and wasted anyone’s time, especially since this is another county, I figured checking it out first was the right move.”
“The right move?”
I huff out a breath and fire back at him, “Are you just going to keep repeating my last few words back to me?”
He tries to fight against it, but I catch the way one side of his mouth twitches. Still, the anger is there and is now making the air in the cab of his truck even thicker. The tension has me wanting to squirm, but I manage to keep myself still.
“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you just put yourself in?” His words are low and bordering on lethal. He studies my face closely as if he’s looking for any sign of regret or remorse.
Was I questioning my life choices while I was out there? Yes, and not just this one. Am I going to admit that to him? Probably fucking not.
I’m not sure what Rhodes sees written all over my face, but it makes his jaw clench to the point that I’m a little concerned for his molars. You can’t really grind teeth to dust, right? That’s just an expression?
“You should have called Sheriff Lyons and told him what you overheard,” his words are husky, but with anger and not desire.
I rear back from him like he’s just slapped me. Should I have called Sheriff Lyons? Oh, that’s right because I couldn’t call him because even though I gave him my number, he still hasn’t reached out.
My gut twists and my own anger—along with feelings of rejection I’m not going to examine now or possibly ever—bubbles up in my chest.
I bite out each word, “I should have called Sheriff Lyons?”
Something must click in his mind because his face softens slightly. Not completely, but just enough. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes out.
“Okay,” I deadpan.
I’m over this conversation. Completely fucking over it.
Honestly, I would hop out of the truck right now, but I’m not entirely sure where my car is from here and I’m no longer interested in traipsing around trying to find it. At least not right now and certainly not alone.
“I should have never come out here,” I murmur without even realizing it as I rub a hand over my face and try to get my shit together.
“You’re right,” Rhodes’s voice is hard, “you shouldn’t have. This is dangerous. You’re not trained to deal with whatever you might have found. What was your plan if this place was being used for criminal activity?”
Fuck.
I try to hold onto my anger, but the pain in his grey eyes pulls me up short.
“I don’t know,” I grit out through my teeth, unwilling to show any weakness.
“You don’t know?” He shakes his head and the disappointment on his face makes me feel like crap, while also pissing me off.
“No,” the single word comes out clipped.
“You can’t do shit like this,” he starts to rant. “You can’t just put yourself in danger without a single care. You didn’t even have a plan.”
He’s seething to the point that I’m a little concerned. Not for myself, but for him.
Before I can stop myself, before I can even think it through, I’ve cupped his face in my hands and pressed my lips against his.
Everything freezes.
His anger.
Time.
The slight breeze rustling through the treetops as they stretch over where Rhodes has parked his truck.
My heart.
For a split second I’m afraid that he’s going to push me away. But then his hands are gripping my hips and he’s pulling me until I’m straddling his lap.
He pries my lips apart with his and his tongue plunges into my mouth to explore. The kiss turns heated, frantic, and completely out of my control.
The only thing I can do is surrender to it. Surrender to him.
And I do.