Chapter 18 #2
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I assume she’s wherever you’ve been running off to the last couple months?”
I grit my teeth and nod. “Yeah. It would take anyone at least another six hours to hike from here to her, and there’s no trail, which means it would have to be dumb luck that they stumble upon her. No one else knows it’s even up there.”
Killian narrows his gaze on me. “Knows what’s up there?”
Shit.
I’ve already said too much. And I know my brother. He isn’t going to let this go.
I glance down at the axe in my hand, my fingers instinctively tightening around it. “I don’t want anyone to know where she is. Having that information could make you a target.”
Barrett nods. “From what I’ve learned about these people, they wouldn’t be above torture to get that kind of information out of someone.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s only one problem…” Killian’s voice wavers slightly, and the way his gaze has returned to that icy blue again, I can already anticipate what he’s about to say. “I know where she is.”
Fuck.
Even though he’s never been up there and I only stumbled upon it by accident on a solo hunting trip once, years ago, he likely heard Mom mention it at least once. Potentially even heard his father talk about it before he died.
“She’s at the old hunting cabin, isn’t she?”
Cringing, I nod. “Yes, but no one else can go up there. I don’t want to lead anyone to her inadvertently. She’s safe there. We have supplies, and I can always come back down if we need more.”
Killian releases a long sigh. “The real problem is, I’m not the only one who knows about the cabin.”
My blood instantly runs cold. “What do you mean?”
He grits his teeth, glancing at Tony. “When Willow was missing, when we were starting our search up here for any clues after finding her in the river, before we knew she had gone through the gorge and was on the other side of the mountain, I listed my dad’s old hunting cabin as a potential location to check.
” The apology in his gaze hurts almost as much as the realization that I’ve been wrong all along.
“We never did go up there once we knew about the gorge from Willow’s fragmented memories, but the general location of it is on a list prepared for the search party. ”
Tony nods, offering an apologetic tight non-smile. “Which means thirty or forty people know it exists, even if they don’t have an exact location.”
All the air rushes from my lungs as panic sets in.
Killian steps closer to me, grabbing my arm. “I only knew it was much farther up this side of the mountain, somewhere nearer the summit where the bears and bobcats could be hunted more easily. That’s still a huge area.”
His placation doesn’t do anything to release the vise tightening around my chest. “I found it without even that information, which means Raven might be a sitting duck.”
RAVEN
All the blood in my veins runs as icy as the river water I was just standing in and goosebumps break out over my skin as I whirl toward the sound I just heard in the forest.
With the bright afternoon sun overhead, light trickles through the canopy, partially illuminating the trees to the left of me, but they’re so thick, with countless massive trunks everywhere, there are any number of spots something—or someone—could be hiding.
Waiting and watching.
No one knows you’re up here.
I keep trying to remind myself of Connor’s words, of his assurances that this is the safest place on the mountain, that there isn’t a single person who could find me here, but it doesn’t stop my heart from thundering against my rib cage.
That sound was real.
It wasn’t my imagination playing tricks on me.
Nor was the fact that the mountain went silent.
I stand frozen in place, listening now for another noise, for anything else that doesn’t seem to fit with the typical sounds.
But it’s quiet again.
Maybe it was just a deer, or a raccoon.
Maybe it was a bear, plodding through the woods, searching for another meal as it prepares to go into hibernation in the fall.
A predator lurking in the trees might have quieted the rest of the animals in the area, and it certainly could have caused a branch or twig to break.
Shit.
I picture the handgun Connor left for me, now sitting next to my computer on the table in the cabin.
Why didn’t I bring it with me?
Because I’ve grown complacent.
Because I’ve felt so goddamn safe the entire time I’ve been up here that I never for a second imagined I might not be.
Because I let Connor’s reassurances convince me I was untouchable.
No other sound comes from the trees, and I slowly release the breath I’ve been holding and continue my way down the path toward the clearing and the safety of the cabin.
Once I’m inside and have that gun in my hand, any potential threat won’t stand a chance—Connor made sure of that.
When I step out of the treeline and into the clearing, my eyes immediately dart to where Connor usually is, at the piles of logs and tools he left scattered around on the ground as if he plans to pick them right back up as soon as he returns.
My heart drops, even though I knew he wouldn’t be there.
He’s only been gone for half a day…
He probably is just reaching where we left the ATV now, or maybe even the homestead, considering how much faster he can move without me with him, but he’s not going to come back tonight.
It would be too strenuous, even for someone in as good of shape as him.
That deflates a little bit of my confidence as I rush across the clearing toward the cabin. I throw open the door and step inside, but the moment I do, that confidence in my safety evaporates instantly.
A man sits at the table, the gun, my only protection, resting underneath his hand, and a slow smile spreads across his lips as I stand frozen just inside the door.
One of his dark brows rises. “Raven Perry, I presume.”
I don’t breathe.
I don’t swallow.
I don’t move a fucking centimeter.
What the hell do I do?
In all my years as a reporter, I’ve covered topics and written stories that pissed off a lot of people. But never anyone who would resort to sending a hitman after me.
Looking at the man in front of me, there isn’t any question that’s exactly what he is and why he’s here.
My eyes dart from him to the gun, then back up again, and he offers me a hard look with eyes that lack any sort of emotion.
I thought Connor’s gaze was dark, even onyx sometimes, but this man’s eyes have a fathomlessness that suggests he lacks a soul, and maybe never had one.
“Don’t even think about it, Miss Perry.”
Fuck.
He drums his fingers on the table, palm still resting over the weapon in an ominous threat. “You’re a hard woman to find, do you know that?”