Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Willow
Did he seriously say that?
I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can stick his "I just won this shot" comment, but I don't get the chance because the door of the Rusty Nail bangs open behind us.
It’s the taller, skinnier one of Ronnie’s douche bag friends. He stops when he sees us, and there is no missing the look in his eyes when he looks at me, as if he knows something I don't.
He leans up against the wall and lights a cigarette, keeping his eyes focused squarely on me, to make sure that I know that he's watching.
Just like that, whatever is left of the fight I have in me drains out of me, and I look over to my protector, if that’s even what he is. I still don’t know what it is he wants from me, but right now this wall of mountain man still seems like a better bet than Ronnie Hatch.
He’s right. And I hate that, but he is. The minute I get in my car and pull away, I'm going to have company. There is no way that Ronnie's going to let me walk away from this, not after basically being humiliated at his own game.
No.
Everything suddenly got a whole lot worse, and there's going to be a price to pay. The problem is, I'm pretty sure that price is going to be me.
I look over at the mountain man and try to think about what I know about him. It's not much more than his name. Cal Reeves. But I know he's the best alternative I've got.
"Look…”
“Willow,” I offer. This asshole doesn’t even know my name.
“Willow,” he repeats, and dammit if my entire body doesn’t react at the way my name sounds on his lips.
I shut that thought down real quick; the last thing I need right now is having any kind of feelings that aren’t contempt for this man who just bought me.
“I’m not trying to rush you, but it seems we’re running out of time here. You’re welcome to stay, but…”
“I don't even know you.”
"I have a dog named Murph. I fix cars, and I live on the mountain up at Iron Peak."
"I know that much,” I huff, making his lips quirk up in a half grin.
“You do, do you? I thought you said you didn’t—”
“Everyone knows who you are, who all of you are. You’re the men on the mountain,” I say, ignoring his cocky smile. “But that doesn’t mean I know you.”
"I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, Willow, but you gotta make a decision here.
" He nods towards the man who is now stomping out his cigarette and either getting ready to walk towards us or go back into the bar and get Ronnie.
Either way, I'm not interested in hanging around to find out. “I’m not interested in pushing my luck tonight any more than I already have.”
Maybe I don’t know much about him, but what I do know isn’t bad. He didn’t gloat when he won the game. He didn’t ask me for anything. He simply paid the money and got me out of there. And now, he’s holding the passenger door open for me.
“Fine.”
I make my decision and jump into the cab of his truck. “But for the record, I’m not getting in because you won me. I’m getting in because I don’t feel like waiting around to see how pissed off Ronnie is.”
“Noted.” He shuts the door and turns away with a shake of his head, but not before I notice the half smile on his face.
Cal gets in beside me, turns the key, and puts the old truck in drive, pulling out of the lot.
I don’t speak until he takes a left instead of a right at the end of the street. “I live out on the old trunk road,” I tell him, pointing in the opposite direction.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says without taking his eyes off the road. “You’re not going home. Not tonight.”
A fresh wave of anger flares up inside me. I should have known better than to trust a mountain man, and now I’m stuck in his truck going God knows where. “I don’t know what you think you just bought, but—”
“The debt.”
He still doesn’t look at me.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
I wait for him to say more. He doesn't. I spin in my seat so I'm staring at him. “Then why am I in your truck right now?”
“Because every man in that bar watched you walk outta there with me, Willow. As far as they are concerned, I did win you. Do you really think they're gonna let you leave this place on your own after what just happened back there?"
I open my mouth, then close it, spin back around, and stare out the windshield.
We drive in silence for another moment before I say, "So where are we going?"
“My place.”
“Excuse me. What makes you think I'm going back to your house?”
He laughs.
The bastard actually laughs at my question, as if it's so crazy for me to wonder why the hell I’d be willing to go to some stranger’s house way the hell up on the mountain.
“Look, Willow. I get that you have trust issues,” he says after a moment, as if he knows me at all. “But as I said before, you don’t have a lot of options right now.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sure you can. Tomorrow. Or whenever this all blows over.”
There’s nothing else I can say, because the last thing I’m going to do is admit that he’s right. Not when he actually is. With a huff, I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window.
“He’s still going to be pissed with me,” I say. “Even in the morning.”
“He’ll get over it.”
I huff again, harder this time. I’m not in the mood to be reasonable, and he’s being so calm, I want to scream.
We drive in silence for a few minutes. The road climbs and twists as we leave the small township of Iron Peak behind and move higher up the mountain, where Cal and his military buddies are known to own most of the land up on the mountain, and I meant what I said; everyone knows of them.
They’re grumpy mountain men who mostly keep to themselves, and up until very recently, when a few of them found women who agreed to marry them, they’re not known to take kindly to intruders.
I’ve never ventured up here before. There was never a reason to.
Until now, apparently.
I don’t let my thoughts drift too far into the reality of what I’m doing, heading up into the wilderness with a stranger and no way out.
I think about my brother instead, and how the hell I’m possibly going to get out of this latest mess he’s gotten me into. Bryson skipped town two days earlier, leaving me to clean up after him. That’s not new.
That’s the problem.
It’s not the first time he’s left me to fix what he’s broken.
The whole reason we’re even in Iron Peak is his fault. We had to move across the valley from Rock Creek, where there were actually jobs, and people, and…well, everything that the rough, isolated village doesn’t have, because of the debts Bryson—and Dad—racked up.
Now we’re trapped. With almost no money, very few prospects, and as of a few hours ago…more debts that couldn’t be paid. Only now, my safety seems to be on the line, as well.
I squeeze my eyes shut long enough to blot out the unshed tears that I refuse to let spill down my cheeks. I hate crying.
I hate even more that when I get overwhelmed or frustrated, that’s exactly what I do.
“We’re almost there,” Cal says, getting from the seat next to me, like maybe he’s noticed the shift in my emotions.
I swallow hard and pull myself together, opening my eyes in time to see him turn off the main forestry road onto an even smaller and rougher one.
“You're pretty far out,” I say, trying not to sound concerned about the remote location.
“Not really. I’m the closest to town. The others are all further up.”
I assume the others refer to his buddies.
Rumor has it they all bought their properties on the mountain many years earlier, when they were still in the military.
One of them, Luke, maybe, has experience with money and apparently invested all of their money, so now they’re all millionaires living like recluses.
That’s the story anyway.
The cabin comes into view in the dim light. It’s bigger than I expected. Especially since he lives alone. At least, I assume he does.
A big, black and white dog jumps up from the porch and runs out to greet the truck as we pull up in the yard.
He cuts the engine and is out of the truck before I can say anything. It takes me a second to realize he’s coming to open my door as if I’m some sort of package he picked up at the bar. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit around and wait for a man to come and let me out.
He’s already at my door when I drop down out of the cab into the dirt. His mouth tightens, but I ignore him in favor of the dog who’s come running over.
“What’s his name?” I ask as I bend down to pet him.
“That’s Murph. Be careful with him,” I jerk my hand back and stare at Cal, horrified. “If you pet him, he’ll never leave you alone,” he says with a shake of his head.
Taking the challenge, Murph licks my hand and rests his head against my knee. “Too late.”
The corner of Cal’s mouth twitches for a moment, and then it’s gone.
“Come on.” He nods toward the cabin.
The dog follows close behind me as we climb the steps to the porch and step inside the cabin. His presence gives me a sense of calm, even though I’ve just set foot into a remote cabin with a strange man three times my size.
Inside, it smells like cedar, woodsmoke, and faintly like motor oil. I did see what looked like a garage around the back, but the inside of the cabin is clean. Really clean. That throws me. Half-feral mountain men aren’t supposed to keep clean houses. Are they?
“Bedroom is the second door on the left,” Cal points down the hall. “Bathroom is next to it. Clean towels under the sink. Take a shower if you want.”
I open my mouth to object, but he stops me. “There’s a clean shirt on the chair in there. Take it.”
“I don’t—”
“You’re shivering, Willow,” he says simply. “It’s colder up here, and you’re hardly dressed for it.”
I look down at my tank and cutoffs. He’s not wrong. But I’m pretty sure my shivering has nothing to do with the temperature.
"Put it on.” He turns away. “Door locks.”
Door locks.
“Where are you going to be?”
“Out here. I’m not sleeping tonight anyway.”
I could argue with him, but what’s the point?
I’m exhausted, and he’s right, I’m shaking, whether it be from the cold or from everything that’s happened, and the man who just paid six grand for me less than an hour ago is pointing me toward a bedroom with a lock, and from what I can tell, has absolutely no intention of joining me or cashing in on his purchase.
I don’t have any fight left in me. Without another word, I head down the hall.
His bedroom is clean, the bed made neatly. It shouldn’t surprise me, he was in the military after all. The shirt is right where he said it would be. Soft gray flannel. It smells like him.
I shrug it on, and the warmth envelopes me.
I close the door and reach for the lock.
It clicks. I stand there with my hand on the bolt for a moment, not sure if I’m locked in or out. Not that it matters for the moment.
Cal paid real money to get me away from those men. He doesn’t know me, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t seem to want anything from me.
And that’s the part I don’t understand.