Chapter 11
Liz
Islept like shit.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lucan’s face across the table, his smile stuck in my head. He’d made me laugh without trying, and my body had betrayed me, pulling me to stay when everything in me said to run.
I rolled over in bed and glared at the ceiling.
This whole thing reeked of something being off.
And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me. The way he tried to make it right, even when I’d been ready to run. How he sat there and let me walk away without making it harder than it already was.
My chest tightened at the memory of leaving the table. It had taken actual physical effort to make my legs move. My body had been trying to anchor itself to him, and I’d had to override every instinct just to stand up.
Which was insane.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, fighting the urge to scream into my pillow.
What was wrong with me? This sketchy, wannabe naked nature survivalist had somehow made me feel more alive in one evening than I had in the past several years combined. My body was practically humming with sexual energy I didn’t know what to do with.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d wanted to be touched.
I kicked off the blanket and sat up. My phone said it was already past nine. I had tossed and turned until almost four in the morning, which meant I’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep total.
Great.
My brain already wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
At least I had a nice long walk by the lake planned. Then my first shift at Split Pine this afternoon and evening. Beck had hired me on the spot, which was the only good thing that had come out of that disaster of a dinner.
I needed the distraction and something normal and productive to focus on instead of obsessing over a man I barely knew.
I shuffled toward the kitchen, already craving a Diet Pepsi. One day I’d break the habit, but today wasn’t that day.
I froze halfway to the kitchenette.
The corner of something white was wedged between the door and the doorframe. I crossed the space in three strides and pulled the envelope the rest of the way through. My fingers shook as I tore it open, already knowing what I’d find.
It was the cashier’s check written for twenty thousand dollars. Heat flooded my face.
He’d come here in the middle of the night or early morning while I’d been sleeping and shoved this thing through my door like I was a charity case who couldn’t make her own decisions.
I didn’t care that he thought he was helping or that the money would solve most of my problems in one swoop. What I cared about was that I’d told him no.
My hands crumpled the envelope as I shoved my feet into my sneakers. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep shorts and oversized T-shirt. I didn’t even grab my phone. I stormed out of the trailer, letting the door slam behind me with a satisfying bang.
The morning air was cool against my flushed skin as I marched across the gravel lot toward the office. My pulse hammered in my ears, drowning out all the sounds that would have normally calmed me: the rustle of the trees in the breeze, the crunch of the gravel, the birds chattering.
I was going to find Reese or Kade and demand to know what was going on.
The office door was propped open, and the anticipation of unleashing my wrath made my jaw clench hard enough that my teeth ached. Perimenopause and a stubborn man did nothing to quell the inner beast.
I pushed into the office. “I need to talk to—” The words died in my throat.
The man behind the desk wasn’t Reese or Kade. He wasn’t Lucan either, thank God, because I might have actually thrown something at him.
This man had black hair and sharp features that made him look like he’d been carved from stone. His blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me take an involuntary step back.
“Can I help you?”
I swallowed, caught off guard by the stranger’s intense stare. “I’m looking for Reese or Kade.”
“Kade has the morning off.” His voice was clipped, and he leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving my face.
I clutched the check tighter, wrinkling it further. “When will they be back?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re the woman who was camping in the woods.” It wasn’t a question, but more of an accusation.
My spidey senses tingled, and I straightened my spine, suddenly aware of my sleep-rumpled appearance. “And? Will Kade and Reese be back soon?”
“Where exactly were you camping?” He’d completely ignored me again, and my anger was reaching its maximum velocity.
I frowned. “Why do you care?”
“Forest safety.”
I saw no reason to lie, and I sighed in frustration. “First at a spot I found about a mile out from here, then about an hour in the other direction.”
“For how many days?”
“Five total.” My irritation flared further. “Why are you interrogating me? Who even are you?”
His expression didn’t change. “Why were you camping alone?”
I crossed my arms. “Would you ask that if I were a man?”
“It isn’t safe.”
“I felt safer than when I lived in a house with a man,” I shot back.
Something flickered across his face, and his eyes narrowed. “Who hurt you?” The question came out softer than his previous ones.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, now you’re concerned? Two seconds ago, you were treating me like I broke the law by sleeping in a tent.” I took a step forward, refusing to be intimidated. “What’s your problem? Because I don’t think this is about forest safety.”
He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze traveled to the crumpled check in my hand.
“What’s that?” He nodded toward it.
“None of your business.” I shoved it into my pocket. “If you see Reese, tell her that Liz is looking for her.”
I turned to leave, half expecting him to stop me, but he remained silent, his stare following me all the way out the door.
The sunshine hit my face as I stepped outside, and I forced myself to walk slowly, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. Only when I was back in my RV did I allow my shoulders to sag.
What the hell was that? First Lucan with his bizarre naked woods story and knife, and now this guy with his interrogation? Something was off about this place.
I grabbed my drink from my refrigerator and tried to steady my breathing while the check burned in my pocket. I’d eat breakfast, text Reese, then go for my walk.
What I needed was structure and routine, not cryptic men with boundary issues.
I stretched my calves as I stood at the lake’s edge. The water lapped gently against the shore, creating a soothing rhythm that matched my breathing. For the first time in days, my body and mind felt relaxed.
The walk had been exactly what I needed. Two hours of nothing but trees, the lake, and the occasional glimpse of a deer between the pines. No naked forest men, no mysterious knives, no grumpy men with invasive questions.
I bent down to pick up a stone, turning it over in my palm before skipping it across the water’s surface. Three hops before it sank. I reached for another, but my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out, squinting against the sun’s reflection on the screen.
Reese: Sorry I missed you! I can meet you at the trailer if you want to talk.
I’d been walking longer than I realized. The thought of returning to Wings End made my stomach twist, but I couldn’t avoid the place forever. I lived there now, at least temporarily.
Me: On my way.
The walk back was quick, my pace quickening with each step as I mentally rehearsed what I wanted to say. By the time I reached my trailer, I’d worked myself into a state of simmering irritation.
Reese sat in an Adirondack chair, scrolling on her phone. She looked up as I approached, her smile faltering slightly when she saw my expression. “Everything okay?”
I pointed at the office. “Whoever was manning the desk earlier needs to be fired because what was that?”
Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you must have met Zarek.”
“Is that his name? The guy with the serial killer stare?”
She laughed. “Yeah, that’s Zarek. He’s... like that.”
“Like what? Invasive? Intimidating? Completely lacking in social skills?”
“All of the above.” She shrugged. “He grows on you.”
“Like mold, I’m sure.” I crossed my arms. “What’s going on around here, and why does everyone feel like they’re keeping a secret?”
Reese’s smile disappeared entirely. Her posture shifted, becoming more careful and guarded. “What do you mean?”
“Lucan showing up with some ridiculous story. That Zarek guy interrogating me about my camping trip like I’d committed a crime. It feels like I’ve stumbled into some weird cult compound where everyone knows the rules except me.”
Reese tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture that told me more than her words. “We’re a tight-knit group. Sometimes that can feel exclusive.”
“This is more than exclusive. This is weird.” I pulled the check out of my pocket. “And this? This is crossing a line.”
Reese’s eyes widened at the sight of the crumpled paper. “Is that a check?”
“Yes. Lucan slipped it through my door after I explicitly told him no.”
Reese stood and took the check from me. “Are you sure you don’t want this? It could help you get back on your feet.”
“I’m not sure of anything right now, and it’s suspicious.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I can’t accept a check that feels like a fast track to a Dateline episode.”
She held the check between her fingers, hesitating. “Lucan isn’t—”
“Please,” I interrupted, “just give it back to him. Tell him I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not comfortable with it. I should give him the knife back too, but maybe that’s the consequence for him being...” I couldn’t think of the word to adequately describe him.
Reese nodded slowly, tucking the check into her pocket. “I’ll make sure he gets it, and you should definitely keep the knife.”
I turned toward the trailer, suddenly exhausted. “Thank you.”
“Liz.” Reese touched my arm lightly, her expression sincere. “I know things seem strange, but no one here means you any harm. Quite the opposite, actually.”
I wanted to believe her, but my brain kept throwing up red flags. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I need some space to think.”
Reese nodded, stepping back. “Of course. I’m here if you need anything.”
I watched her walk away, and I couldn’t decide which bothered me more: that Lucan had offered me the money for his own knife, or that some small part of me had wanted to take it.