Chapter 4 #3
He ghosts his fingers back and forth along the slip of skin above the waist of my jeans. The hum and vibration of the fan, the quieting of my heartbeat, the way he’s touching me—all of it is soothing.
We both shift into the hall, with me walking backwards and him forward, as if he’s leading. My back reaches the wall between the fire extinguisher and the open office door. Where do we go from here?
His hand frames the side of my face as his thumb brushes along my jaw. Smiling and looking as dazed and disheveled as I feel, he looks up and over my shoulder as he says, “I want more time. Come with me.”
The reality is, I can’t bring anyone to where I’ve been staying.
It's been a moot point up until now. Feeling safe and starting over have been the only plans I’ve had for the past few years here.
Even if it’s just to his car, it would be more time.
And I want more. I finally look up, not ready for this night to be over, and notice the way his body goes rigid before he says, “You lied.”
He looks inside the office and moves away from me. It takes me a moment to stop smiling and realize this door shouldn’t have been opened. It’s Boss’s space for filing paperwork, keeping track of newcomers, and making calls.
My body tenses as silent alarms trigger.
“You said you’d never heard of Hideaway,” Julian says, staring at the map of Montana behind the desk.
Four yellow Post-it notes are stuck on various places, and one of them is placed at exactly two miles from where we’re standing right now. It’s marked Hideaway Ranch.
Nervously, I glance down the hall, my heart racing for a whole different reason now. “That’s not?—”
“I had a feeling you knew more,” he cuts off my lie as he turns to face me.
“You what?” I ask, instantly angry. “So . . . you were using me?” I say quietly, almost not believing what’s happening. “Who the fuck are you?”
He doesn’t answer, eyes only narrowing as he searches mine.
What the hell have I done? I take a step back. “You lied. You weren’t lost,” I rush out. This is bad.
There’s one rule I have to follow. One that must stay in place not just for my safety but for too many others. I don’t have time to question why he wants to know or if he means any harm.
He steps closer, making me take one shaky step back.
This time, the choreography of our movements is blanketed with an entirely different mood.
Quickly, I step just past the threshold of the door and back into the hall, sliding my palm against the wall, reaching the cutout where the fire extinguisher hangs.
“Get out,” I warn as I feel for the grip of what I have hidden.
Stepping closer to me, he says calmly, “I’m not looking to hurt anyone. Just—” His words cut off when he feels what I have in my hand that’s now pressed to his groin. “What’s in Hideaway?” he still asks.
“Nothing.”
Glancing down, he holds his hands up in surrender. “Then why lie, Naomi?” He looks down at the weapon in my hand.
“Says the liar who just tried seducing me for information,” I bite back.
“Tried to seduce you?” he says, his eyebrow quirking in question and pissing me off further.
I dig the taser into his groin.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “If I was a threat . . .” He doesn’t finish his thought.
Instead, he moves too fast for me to register what he’s doing.
The taser is knocked from my grip, clanging to the floor just as he shifts around me, pushing me so that my body presses up against the wall.
With my arms somehow twisted behind me now, he gathers my wrists into one of his hands.
He leans into me with his full weight, holding me there so I can’t move.
As I’m about to shout for help, his hand covers my mouth.
My pulse spikes. Panic slamming into me so violently that I feel dizzy.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says next to my ear, almost like he’s pleading with me.
I try making a noise, but I’m shaking and can’t make a single sound.
“Naomi,” he grits out.
I want to tell him, “Nope, sorry, that’s not right. That’s not my name, asshole.” I want to hang onto my wits and not crumble at what’s happening. I glance around as my nerves ratchet, my whole body now vibrating with adrenaline. Where’s the person who kept knocking? Fuck.
“Listen to me,” he says through a clenched jaw. “I’m not interested in causing trouble. I’m just looking for information, but you lied to me, and now I really want to know what’s in Hideaway?”
He doesn’t realize how complicated his question and my non-answer just made all of this.
“Shit,” he mumbles, stepping back slightly and letting go of my wrists. “Tell me what will make you stop panicking. Please.” He turns me around and looks over my body. “You’re shaking. I’m going to lift my hand away from your mouth. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”
It takes me a second. Breathe. “Leave,” I mutter as strongly as I can. A tear stupidly falls down my cheek, and I swipe it away, hopefully before he can spot it. Be brave. “Forget you were here. Forget whatever this—” I cut myself off. “If you’re not looking for trouble, then leave. And forget.”
“Naomi, you alright?” Boss shouts from the end of the short hallway.
Before I can even answer, the weight of Julian disappears just as abruptly as the door to the emergency exit opens. He glances back at me one last time before he walks through, regret and confusion playing out across his face.
What the hell did I just do?
“Naomi?” Boss calls out again.
I swallow repeatedly, feeling like I might throw up. My clammy hands tremble, and I breathe in through my nose, holding for seven, six, five, four, three, two. Get it together. Exhale. I remember the protocols. I shove down any emotions that are lingering. This isn’t just about me anymore.
When I look back up, I’m as focused as I can be, my panic still on the precipice, but I can deal with that later. As I’m rushing down the hall, Boss meets me in the middle. “What happened?” he asks, reaching for my shoulders.
I step back, not wanting anyone to touch me. “I messed up,” I tell him as my eyes blur with tears. “I need to make the call. And you need to head to the ranch. Make sure I didn’t just get everyone?—”
“Already on it,” Viv says, speeding past the hall entryway. “I’ve got Peaky saddled outside; I’ll get there faster. I knew I didn’t like that fucker!” she calls out, moving through the bar.
Boss is already moving and tosses me my burner phone from behind the bar. “Call it in, and I’ll give the ranch a heads-up before Viv gets there.”
With my heart pounding in my ears, I hustle back to the office and close the door behind me. I flip open the phone to the only number programmed on it. It only rings twice before she answers.
A loud breath blows out, and then the sound of jazz music echoes in the background before she says, “Talk to me, Wyn.”
I clear my throat. “Bea, I messed up.” I don’t bother swiping at the tears that finally fall.
“Are you in danger?” she asks, immediately following up with, “One-word answers only right now.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “No.”
“Good. If that changes, you hang up and do as you’ve been instructed,” she directs.
I’m nodding, as if she can see me. There are protocols and rules for staying here. The U.S. Marshall who brought me here made everything crystal clear, and I’ve broken one of them, or rather, the only one. Keep this place quiet. If anyone asks, Hideaway doesn’t exist. It needs to stay that way.
“Is anyone else hurt?”
“No,” I tell her through more tears.
“Is anyone on their way to the ranch?”
I shake my head, slamming my eyes shut. “No. Yes.” I let out a frustrated breath. “Viv just hauled ass out of here.”
“Good. She’ll take it from here, then.” I hear the click and zip of a lighter. Bea sucks in a breath, and on the exhale, she says, “Now, tell me what happened.”