16. Noah
Chapter sixteen
Noah
I curse under my breath as I try to start the snowmobile. The battery is dead, and judging by the engine’s condition, it hasn’t been running for a long while. The fuel might be gunked up, too. I glance around the small shed, hoping against hope to find the solution to my problem, but there’s nothing. I don’t expect much, but people who stay this far out usually have some essential tools.
“Come on,” I murmur. “You have to start. You don’t have to run well. You don’t have to go twenty miles. I just need you for about five. Hell, I’ll take two. Just give me something.”
I sit back on my heels, taking a deep breath. I’ve been working on this snowmobile for over an hour. My back aches, my hands are cut up, and I’m sweating despite the frigid weather. I’ve worked on snowmobiles since I was ten. Not a lot can go wrong with them, but when it does, it typically results in the things becoming giant paperweights, especially one this old .
I try everything I know, and the thing isn’t even attempting to turn over. I turn the key and burst into laughter when there is zero fire. Nothing. Dead.
“What do we do now?” I mutter to myself. “We have limited food and are in the middle of nowhere.”
Is it terrible that in the back of my mind, I’m thinking it might not be the worst thing in the world? Stuck in a cozy cabin with a beautiful woman who seems to like me, at least like sex with me—things could be worse.
But I don’t want to let her down. I have to keep trying. I grab the flashlight and shine it around the shed. I see what looks like an old toolbox. Maybe there’s something in it I can use. I know it’s going to take an act of God to get that thing running, but I can’t stop. I have to keep trying. I want to be her hero. Maybe that makes me a narcissist. I don’t care.
“Shit!” I manage to catch myself before slamming my face into a shelf.
I look down and realize I tripped over a boot. Frustration takes over, and I try to kick it out of my way. The boot doesn’t move. I look closer and realize its position isn’t normal. I know what I’m looking at, but my brain refuses to believe it. I move the flashlight beam over the area, seeing a faded, thin blue tarp covering something against the wall.
I freeze. I need to look, but I don’t want to confirm what I suspect. Not looking doesn’t make it go away. I reach for the corner of the tarp and pull it back a couple of inches.
“Shit.”
Legs. Legs are attached to the boots. I pull the tarp back further and see a blood-soaked torso.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
I jerk the tarp off and stare into the dead eyes of a middle-aged man with his face mottled purple and blue. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the implications of what I’ve discovered. We are miles away from any help. I don’t know what Eric looks like, but I am pretty sure this is him.
Horror washes over me. His face is frozen in a grimace of pain, and it’s clear he’s been dead for a while. The cold weather has literally frozen him. He may have been out here longer than a few days. I stumble back, my heart pounding in my chest. My mind races, trying to piece together the facts .
Mia found the note. Why would he leave the note? Clearly, he didn’t kill himself and cover his body with a tarp.
No one just stumbles upon a scientist out here in the boonies. Did someone come here to kill him? Or was I the target? Three people were planning to be at this cabin. I doubt my hot little wildlife photographer or her biologist buddy have a lot of enemies.
That leaves me. The DEA screwed me over. Vincent and his merry band of assholes must know I am the one that ratted them out. The agent told me I was safe. Or did he? I replay that conversation in my head. Agent Fields told me it was handled. Handled wasn’t a guarantee that Vincent or his associates wouldn’t come after me. It wouldn’t be hard for him to have found my flight plan. He could have tracked my tail number with any of those stupid flight tracker systems.
“Shit,” I hiss again.
I’ve brought death to her door. An innocent man lost his life because drug dealers wanted revenge on me. That thought leads me to the next—where are they? They could be out there now, sitting and waiting to take me out .
Mia!
I quickly pull the tarp over the body and rush outside. The brightness of the snow temporarily blinds me after being in the dark shed. I look around and don’t see her. I run back to the cabin, my mind racing.
“Mia!” I call out, bursting through the door.
She isn’t there. I go back outside and look around. Panic seizes me at the thought of what might happen to her if she’s fallen into their hands. I see her footprints leading away from the cabin toward the forest. My gut twists with fear. What if something happened to her, too?
“Dammit, I told her to stay close.”
I thought our biggest threat was a hungry grizzly or a territorial wolf pack. Now, I realize it’s far worse. Far more sinister. I follow the tracks and can see where she had apparently sat down in the snow, but she’s not there now.
The footprints continue, leading deeper into the forest. My heart pounds in my chest as I desperately follow them, praying that I can find her before it’s too late. I try to focus on my survival skills and think of the best way to protect her from whatever danger might be lurking. I have nothing but my fists, and I’m not foolish enough to believe my enemies aren’t armed.
As I venture deeper into the woods, the trees become thicker, and there is only a dusting of snow. The footprints are now barely visible. Panic sets in as I realize she could be anywhere in these godforsaken woods. I have to find her.
I continue, shuffling through dead leaves and underbrush, my mind racing with thoughts of Mia, her safety, and possible ways to get us both out of this mess. I push myself harder, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Suddenly, I spot something in the distance—a flash of movement among the trees. My heart leaps in my chest. Could it be Mia? I break into a run, my body driven by the need to find her. I call out her name, but there’s no response. Just as I’m about to give in to despair, I spot her lying flat on her stomach under a low-hanging pine bough, her camera in hand, focused on something in the distance. She’s barely noticeable. Does she see the men? Are my enemies stalking us ?
I approach cautiously, my heart still pounding from the shock of finding Eric’s body. “Mia, what are you doing?” I whisper
She glances back at me, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Taking pictures, Noah. Isn’t that why we’re out here? Get down. You’re going to scare him.”
“Scare who?”
She ignores me, focusing on whatever she sees through that lens.
I scan the area until my eyes settle on a moose about thirty feet away, grazing peacefully. “That moose is a little too close for comfort,” I say quietly, trying not to startle it.
Mia scoffs. “Moose aren’t dangerous if you keep your distance. I’m fine.”
The moose suddenly looks up, its ears twitching. It spots us, and its demeanor changes. “Mia, we should go. Now.”
She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed with my concern. “I’m fine, Noah. Stop being so overprotective.”
I step closer, urgency in my voice. “Mia, please. If he decides to charge, you’re screwed. ”
“He didn’t even notice me until you got here,” she mutters.
“Well, now he knows. Let’s go.”
She reluctantly gets to her feet, her gaze still fixed on the moose. “Fine, let’s go.”
We walk back through the forest, but I have no illusions that we are out of danger. My eyes shift back and forth, searching for the real threat.
“Did you get the snowmobile started?” she asks.
“No. It’s dead.”
The word slips out. The snowmobile isn’t the only thing that is dead.
“Great, so we’re stuck here,” she complains.
“I don’t know about that,” I tell her. “We might have to get back to the plane.”
“What? Why? Are we going to walk back there?”
“I think we should.”
She groans, stomping through last year’s leaves. “Why don’t you walk back, and I’ll stay at the cabin.”
I laugh. I have to admire her willingness to sacrifice me without a second thought. But I can’t leave her alone in the cabin. I would gladly hike back to the plane if it meant getting us out of here. Even though the sun is out now, it will likely freeze tonight. My plane is old and doesn’t have all the fancy de-icing gizmos and gadgets.
“Thanks for volunteering me,” I say. “Let’s just get back to the cabin.”
“I’m going,” she snaps.
She’s cranky. I get it. I’m not in a great mood myself. Thankfully, the cabin appears through the trees. Just before we step into the open, I grab her arm and pull her back.
“What are you doing?” she hisses.
I look around, searching for any sign that we might have visitors. “Looking for bears,” I tell her.
“Do you see one?”
“No, but let’s wait a second and make sure there isn’t one waiting for us.”
“Why would there be?” she questions.
“Because we’re walking meat bags,” I snap. “You don’t think every animal in a twenty-mile radius has picked up on our scent. I told you to stay close to the cabin. You just broadcast our presence all over the place. If a cat or bear didn’t know we were here before, they do now. ”
“Gee, thanks. You really know how to compliment a girl. You’re so stinky animals will smell you from miles away.”
I drop my head, slowly shaking it. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Mia rolls her eyes and walks into the cabin without another word. I follow her, still scanning the rooms for any signs of intruders. I walk to the window, peering outside to see if anyone emerges from the opposite tree line. I lock the door. I know how sturdy that door is, which is a good thing. But it isn’t going to stop someone from shooting the place up.
Mia shrugs out of her coat and hangs it on a hook before her hard gaze lands on me. “What is your problem?” she snaps. “I’ve been doing this a long time. I know how to handle myself. I wasn’t going to charge the damn thing. I know how to be quiet. I was just fine.”
I sigh, feeling the tension between us. “I’m sorry, Mia. It’s just…”
I don’t know how to tell her Eric is dead. She’s going to freak out .
She crosses her arms, clearly not in the mood to listen to my apologies. “I’m not stupid, Noah. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can—”
“No,” she steps toward me, jabbing her finger in my chest. “You don’t know me at all. Just because we slept together, it doesn’t give you power over me. I’m my own person. I decide when and where I’m going to take pictures!”
Suddenly, without thinking, I reach out and kiss her. For a moment, she stiffens in surprise, but then she melts against me, returning the kiss with a hunger that matches my own. The kiss deepens. Our lips move in a passionate embrace. The tension is replaced by arousal that leaves us both breathless.
As we pull away from each other, Mia’s eyes search mine, filled with a mix of surprise, confusion, and a spark of desire.
She swallows hard, her cheeks flushing with color. “Noah…what was that?”
I smile, my hand reaching out to cup her face, gently urging her to meet my gaze. “That was me telling you that you’re not alone and I’m here for you, no matter what happens. I’ve got you. Trust me, please.”
She frowns. “I do.”
She leans in and kisses me again.