Page 22

6

Cameron

Istretchedmylimbsand arched my spine. My eyes snapped open when my ankle protested the movement, and something jangled at my wrist. It took a moment to get my bearings and remember where I was, who I was with, and the sickening realization that I’d awakened to an actual nightmare.

At least it was warm under the covers. The soft glow of morning light shone around the edges of the curtains. Outside, dew dripped from the roof and birds twittered in the trees. I imagined people paid good money for a remote cabin experience like this, but it kind of lost its appeal when you were chained to a bed by a hitman.

Hoping to hide from my reality a little longer, I burrowed into the blankets and pulled them up to my chin.

A warm body shifted at my back. I tensed.

What the actual fuck?

Shep had sworn last night he wasn’t a rapist, but now that I was restrained in the goddamned bed, his true nature had emerged.

I winced and held in a whimper. I didn’t want to find out what his plans were when he woke up pressed against me. When had he moved from the floor into the bed?

He adjusted his position and something firm poked my rear.

Shit. Shit!

He stilled again and began a light snore. It ramped up from there and I worried he’d wake himself with the racket.

I steeled myself, peeked over my shoulder, and found a wet, brown nose inches from my face. My head dropped to the pillow, and I muttered a string of expletives, clutching my pounding heart.

I rolled over to give Ranger’s head a pat where it rested on the pillow next to mine. He stretched and let out an annoyed groan. A relieved laugh escaped me. I’d mistaken one of his long legs poking me from behind for a giant, man-sized morning boner.

I continued running my hands over Ranger’s floppy ears. He was a beautiful dog. “Boy, you scared the crap out of me.”

Shep interrupted by clearing his throat. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a steaming mug of something in his hand. How long had he been standing there? The chain clanged against the headboard as I sat up. I wondered what mood he was in this morning. Couldn’t be any worse than yesterday.

He was already dressed in casual jeans, a white T-shirt that fit tightly across his broad chest, and an unbuttoned blue plaid shirt, much like the red one I still wore. The rolled-up sleeves revealed muscular forearms. I averted my gaze quickly.

Shep appeared unamused as he sipped from his cup. “I see you two are friends. Sharing the bed, no less. Ranger should sleep on the floor. I’ll make sure he stays off in the future.”

“I don’t mind if he sleeps here.” I loved dogs and had always wanted one of my own. Besides, having Ranger close by calmed me.

Shep grunted, then approached, placing his drink on the nightstand so he could unlock my cuffs.

“Come to the kitchen when you’re ready,” he said, before turning to leave the room.

So Shep wasn’t a morning person. I suspected he wasn’t a midday, afternoon, or evening person, either.

I limped to the bathroom, testing my ankle along the way. It felt stiff and sore, but not as bad as I thought it would be.

Checking my reflection in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back. My fingers traced over the scratches on my face and neck. Dark rings under my eyes made me look older than my twenty-seven years, and my hair resembled a bird’s nest since I hadn’t combed it after bathing.

A clean, folded towel sat on the counter, along with an unused toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, bar of soap, and a bottle of water. It almost looked like a welcome gift to the hitman hotel. Still, I appreciated the gesture.

I washed my face and patted it dry. After finger combing my hair, I tied it up in a high, messy bun. I brushed my teeth and checked my reflection again. Still no better.

Exhaling a deep breath, I hobbled out of the room to meet with the enemy. Ranger jumped off the bed and followed me to the kitchen.

The cabin had a different vibe in the morning. Natural light flooded through the large east-facing windows, adding warmth to the space. The view of untouched mountains stretched to the horizon, valleys and peaks as far as the eye could see, and yet I couldn’t spot a single man-made structure anywhere. Vivid splashes of crimson, auburn, and gold created a scene straight out of a travel brochure. But despite the incredible beauty, the extreme isolation made me uneasy.

The scent of coffee and bacon drew my gaze to the kitchen. Sir-Grumps-a-Lot leaned over a skillet, spatula in hand and a dish cloth slung over a shoulder. I did a slow blink, confused by this image of a domesticated contract killer. I hadn’t pegged him as a guy who could cook, but then again, you didn’t get to be his size and condition by eating garbage.

“Coffee’s over there.” Without taking his eyes from the stove, Shep pointed the spatula at the French press on the counter behind him.