Page 3

Chapter 2

Mila

I shifted, and a bolt of pain shot through me. My head was groggy, and my mouth was dry. My left arm was pinned to my chest, and my thigh throbbed. With more effort than it should have taken, I lifted my right arm and touched the left. That movement alone was agonizing.

Eyes still closed, I took a deep breath. Despite the pain, I was warm, and the surface beneath me was soft. There was even some kind of pillow pile keeping my shoulder stable. With my good hand, I grazed the chunky knit blanket covering me, reveling in its plushness, grateful for its comfort.

Though in the back of my mind, a little voice urged me to panic, to move, to hide, my muscles ached too much to allow it. So, taking my chances, I lay still, piecing together where I was and why every inch of my body ached so badly.

Running through the woods.

Losing my phone and the evidence.

My chest tightened at the memories. Fuck.

Jude.

Though there was no relief when I thought of him, the pain was a little more bittersweet.

That pretty doctor who laid me on the kitchen counter and cranked my shoulder back into place.

That may have been the most painful moment of the day, but the almost immediate relief was worth it.

Falling asleep on the couch while patting the giant dog.

Huh.

Slowly, I forced my eyes open, searching for Ripley. But rather than being met with Jude’s living room, I found myself propped up by a mountain of pillows in the middle of a massive king-size bed, staring up at a ceiling fan. I scanned the room, noting the thick blanket that in the light peeking in from around the curtains was a deep shade of green and was tucked around my toes to keep them warm.

I was assessing the dark furniture when Ripley padded into the room, followed by her owner.

I winced.

Jude.

He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded T-shirt. His dark hair stood up in every direction, sleep-mussed, and his glasses were askew. I was practically immobile, feeling like I’d been run over by a bus, and the man strolled in wearing fucking sweatpants. Could I not catch a break?

“She is awake. Good girl.” He patted the dog’s head as he strode to my bedside.

“What am I doing here?” I asked, taking the glass of water he offered me.

“Resting, as the doctor ordered.”

“I said I’d sleep on the couch.”

“And I said you had to take the bed.” His tone was firm, but the corner of his lip quirked.

“But I was sleeping on the couch.” I remembered that part clearly. He’d been adamant that I sleep in his bed, his tone almost condescending. It rankled me, making it easy to draw a line in the sand. I was an unwanted guest. I would not put him out any more than I had to.

With a hum, he set a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers on the nightstand. “Once you were asleep, I carried you in here.”

My heart stuttered. “I don’t remember waking up. But I would have had to with the way my shoulder hurts.”

He shrugged. “I was careful and you were exhausted.” He grasped the blanket but didn’t move to pull it back. “Can you sit up?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “I’ll make breakfast. Willa said you need to eat.”

With his hand on my upper back, he helped me sit up. For a big, rugged guy, he was so gentle.

The dog rested her head on the edge of the bed at his side, her dark eyes surveying me.

Unable to resist the temptation, I scratched her ears.

“Ripley likes you.” He worked around me, arranging the pillows to support my back more effectively. “She doesn’t like most people.”

“I need to go,” I said, shifting so I could swing my legs over the side of the mattress.

“No.” He leaned closer, and I was hit with a whiff of toothpaste mixed with a scent that was distinctly male. “Willa will be here soon. Rest for now. Your body needs it.”

The dog leaned closer, nuzzling my hand. Her affection settled me. I’d always wanted a dog. It was another promise I’d made myself many times. Maybe when this was all over, I’d get one. If it ever ended. Most days, I wasn’t sure it would. Though after yesterday, it was clear it had to, and it would be in one of two ways. I’d either ride off into the sunset with a dog, or I’d be six feet under.

Jude hadn’t moved from my side. Though he’d been a little bossy, he was as handsome and caring as I remembered. The burly lumberjack who’d taken me home, rocked my world, and then made me chocolate chip pancakes at three a.m.

I hadn’t forgotten a single detail of the night we’d spent together. The weather, the moonlight, the way his strong, calloused hands felt on my body. Or the location of this little house in the middle of the forest.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I murmured. “I promised myself I’d keep you out of this.”

“Out of what?” he asked, his gaze intent behind his dark-rimmed glasses. “I still have no idea what’s going on.”

“I need to go.” My first order of business was to head back to the woods. I wouldn’t rest until I found that damn phone. I’d worked too long and too hard to lose the evidence.

“Stop.” He stepped up closer so I couldn’t move around him without having to scoot down the mattress. In this much pain, and under his scrutiny, I didn’t dare attempt it.

“You’re safe here. No one knows where you are except my family. Take some time to recover.”

Embarrassingly, a big, fat tear rolled down my cheek.

“I’m sorry.” He eased onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb my shoulder. “You’re in shock. Please let your body recover. We can talk about all of this later.”

Overcome by another wave of tears, I slumped back. Pain shot through my arm, making me grimace. I’d been so close to finishing all of this. And now I’d lost the evidence. I was on the run and injured. All out of sorts in the presence of this large man and his equally giant dog.

I willed the frustration to settle. It was time to lighten the moment. He probably already thought I was a complete headcase, showing up here the way I did and then sobbing in his bed.

“I have a question,” I said, keeping my tone easy. “Why Ripley? Is that a family name or something?”

He chuckled, dropping his chin to his chest. “No. Definitely not a family name.” With a stroke of the dog’s fur, he side-eyed me. “I named her after Ellen Ripley.”

“Who’s that? A musician?” As I asked, it suddenly hit me how terrible I must look. I was still covered in filth, and I could only imagine how wild my hair was.

He laughed again, the sound echoing off the walls and making my heart stumble a little. “Sorry.” He wiped at the smile on his face. “No, Ellen Ripley, the hero of the Alien franchise.”

I frowned, confused. “Are those movies?”

His eyes bulged. “You’ve never seen Alien ? Jesus, we’ve got to fix that. Screw getting checked by a doctor. Let’s have a movie marathon.”

A laugh bubbled out of me. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed his sarcasm. “Should I have seen them?”

“Yes. In addition to being my favorite movies, they’re pop culture touchstones. Were you one of those kids who read books instead of watching TV, Trouble?”

After the last twelve hours, the conversation was anything but appropriate, but I couldn’t deny that the levity was welcome.

“No. Not at all. I’ve seen lots of movies. My favorite is The Princess Bride . I’ve seen it dozens of times and could quote it all day.”

“Interesting.” He crossed his arms, his biceps rippling.

The move made my mouth go dry. Or maybe it was my morning dragon breath. Either way, he was a sight to behold.

“How about I make breakfast while you get washed up?”

I nodded, suddenly desperate for a mirror. God, what he must think of me? “One more question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you have any Pop-Tarts?”

His lips tipped up as he shook his head. “Uh, no. You realize they’re nothing but cancer and frosting, right?”

Incensed, I stuck my tongue out. “Pop-Tarts are fucking delicious, and they’re perfectly capable of being a balanced breakfast.”

He cracked a smile. “I’ve got eggs. How about an omelet? I can put spinach in.”

Fighting the instinct to gag, I scrunched my nose.

With a sigh, he stood. “How about chocolate chip pancakes? You’re in luck. I keep chocolate chips around for my nieces and nephew.”

I grinned. “Coffee too?”

“Of course. Just please rest.”

He insisted on helping me out of bed but thankfully left me alone while I attempted to pee. Since the sweats he had given me were so large, it wasn’t too terribly difficult to pull them down with one hand. It was hard for me to ask for help in any sense, but in the bathroom? It was an absolute no-go. I did have some dignity left, after all.

He’d left a brand-new toothbrush on the bathroom sink, which I made good use of. My mouth felt like the inside of a dumpster on a hot day.

As I brushed, I made the mistake of assessing myself in the mirror.

Shit .

Bruises bloomed across my face and neck, accompanied by the small scrapes and cuts I’d accumulated while crawling through the forest. My hair was filthy and matted, and my complexion was sallow. My face was so drawn it felt as though my skin was hanging off my skull.

Jeez. There was a time when I would have considered myself hot. I’d worn cute clothes, and I’d dated, living like a normal adult woman. Jude had seen me at my best. Before stress and living a double life had aged me significantly. Before stress had caused me to drop so much weight.

Here and there, I missed that life, that version of myself.

But when I reminded myself of why I was doing this, the sadness over the loss of the woman I used to be faded. I’d given up my life to seek justice. I was on a mission, and I wasn’t about to stop now.

* * *

Willa arrived soon after, wearing a smile and toting a medical bag. She fussed over me and accepted a massive mug of coffee from Jude.

I’d been eager to see her, anxious to find out what I could do to ensure a quick recovery.

But when she examined me, especially when she prodded my back, my spirits fell.

“We’re looking at least one fractured rib,” she said, poking around.

Every time she used even a small amount of pressure, the pain that radiated through me brought a wave of nausea with it.

“I’m not sensing anything significant, but the bruising and swelling that developed overnight confirm it.”

Jude came into the room, his arms crossed with concern. “How bad?”

Willa turned to him, wearing a sad smile. “She’s banged up. I’d love an MRI of that shoulder and an X-ray of these ribs, but if that’s not an option, then I can keep an eye on things—”

“Yes.” I straightened, only to wince when pain rocketed through me.

“But only”—she eyed me—“if she agrees to take it easy.”

I grunted in response. The last thing I wanted was to take it easy. There was too much to do. I was so close, and from what I’d witnessed, something big was coming. I just needed to figure out where and when.

Willa produced antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and painkillers and rattled off how many and how often I should take each one.

The instructions went in one ear and out the other, but luckily, Jude grabbed a notepad and scribbled them down for me.

She then helped me into a real sling. It was bulky and ugly but better than the pillowcase that had been looped around my neck.

“Wear this all day and night,” she explained. “Except while showering.”

“Even sleeping?”

“Yes.” She dipped her chin. “For the first week. Then I’ll examine you again and get a sense of how it’s healing. From there, we can reduce the amount of time you keep it immobile and start a regimen of wrist and elbow exercises to keep the blood flowing.”

“A week?”

She tipped her head, brow furrowed, her blond waves falling in her face. “Yes. It’s dislocated, and I suspect you’ve torn your rotator cuff. This isn’t a scrape on the knee, Mila.”

“How long…?” My tone was desperate, unhinged. I couldn’t help it. As badly as every cell in my body hurt, I couldn’t give up. Not after all the work I’d done. “How long until I’m back to normal?”

“Not sure. No less than a month. Maybe six weeks.”

“No,” I shouted, my heart lurching. I had work to do. I had to recover my phone and meet with the FBI. I needed to get the rest of my notes from my trailer. I couldn’t waste another minute.

They both gaped at me.

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat, dropping my gaze. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Willa patted my leg. “You’ve been through a lot, and your body is still processing. It’s important for you to rest, eat, and hydrate. Take the meds and let your body heal.”

My stomach twisted painfully. “I can’t stay here.”

“Sure you can. Jude’s not home much anyway. I bet Ripley would love the company.”

As if on cue, the dog came over and put her head on my knee, turning those beautiful dark doggy eyes on me. She got it. She could see how screwed I was.

“But—”

“Please. Stay here,” Jude said. “I’ll stay out of your way so you can rest. And Ripley takes care of herself.”

I studied him, then his sister-in-law. They were relative strangers, but they’d both shown me tremendous kindness. I didn’t want to fucking rest. But I closed my eyes and nodded. What other choice did I have?

Willa hopped to her feet and clapped. “Great. I need to get to the clinic. If you’re feeling up to it,” she said to me, “you can take a shower tonight. Jude can help you change the bandages then.”

I nodded. Though I wouldn’t let Jude do any such thing, a shower sounded like heaven. And surely I’d do a better job searching if I was clean.

I looked over at the man who was dead set on helping me. His face was stoic, impossible to read.

The awkward shame that consumed me in this moment was worse than the fractured rib and busted shoulder. I was embarrassed. Not only that, but I felt helpless—a sensation I loathed more than just about anything—and exposed.

This man had seen me naked. He’d pinned me against the big picture window in this very room and eaten my pussy until I screamed his name.

Now he was my caretaker, and I was a deranged runaway who’d taken over his bed, forcing him to sleep on the couch.

Jude walked Willa out, and when he returned, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, giving me a pitying look. “I’ve got to go to the office for a bit,” he explained. “Meetings.”

Lips pressed together, I nodded.

“I won’t be long.”

“It’s fine.” I waved him off with my good hand. “I’m going to take a painkiller and attempt to sleep.”

That was a lie. My real plan was to get out of here and find my phone, but something told me that if I was transparent about that, he’d lose his shit.

“In the bed?” he raised his eyebrows.

“No. On the couch.” I patted it for effect.

He huffed, head bowed. When he looked up again, he zeroed in on me. “Ripley will stay with you. Her food and water bowls are filled, and she’s got a doggie door.”

“Okay.”

He headed to the kitchen and came back with a big glass of water and a sleeve of crackers, which he put on the coffee table.

After that, he disappeared down the hall and returned with the green fuzzy blanket I’d been so enamored with when I woke up, as well as an armful of pillows.

I smirked. “So you can respect my preference for the couch.”

He hovered over me, glaring. “Only because I don’t have time to argue. Tonight, you sleep in the bed.”

“Good luck with that.” I leaned back gently, fussing with the pillows.

“Let me do it.” He slid a hand behind my back and angled me forward gently, shifting the pillows around until I was at the perfect angle for my shoulder.

So close like this, it was impossible to avoid soaking in the heat of his body, and I was fully engulfed in his scent.

So much so that I had to hold my breath to keep from burying my nose in his neck as he pulled the blanket up and tucked it around me.

His hands paused on either side of my thighs, and he froze there, his face only inches from mine. His gaze darkened as he looked at me, causing a tiny fizzling sensation in my stomach.

“There you go,” he said, straightening. “I’ll be back.”

Just like that, the moment was over. He snagged his keys from the table by the door and shrugged on a coat, and then he was gone.

When the sound of his truck’s engine faded, I fell back and closed my eyes, wishing I was anywhere but here.

A deep exhaustion settled over me, the weight pinning me to the couch. I needed to get up. Find a car or a bike or an ATV and get back out there.

But I was warm, and the painkillers were kicking in. And my limbs were so heavy. I’d close my eyes for a minute, then I’d get up. Yes, that would be fine. Just a few minutes and then I’d head out.