Page 24 of Bird on a Blade (Hunter’s Heart #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EDIE

S awyer goes with me to the cabin so I can pack up my things. He doesn’t say much as we walk through the woods together, although I keep catching him when he glances over at me, his dark eyes unreadable, even as a smile curves on his lips. Every now and then his knuckles brush against mine, and I don’t know if it’s intentional or not. It’s weird to imagine a serial killer—or a Hunter, or a boogeyman, or whatever he is because he clearly doesn’t see himself as human—wanting to hold hands.

When we get to the cabin, though, anything as sweet and innocent as holding hands evaporates, because Baro’s car is still parked behind mine.

“Fuck,” I say, but Sawyer just tucks my hair behind my ear and smiles down at me.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, and then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key fob and winks at me. Winks , like we’re in on some joke together.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I seriously going to move in with him ?

You’re just staying with him , I tell myself. Until you know it’s safe. He can obviously protect you .

“I should have taken care of this earlier,” he says. “When it was storming. But I—” He pauses. “I was eager to get back. Make sure you were okay.”

He always does this. Says something that makes all my reservations melt away.

“What are you going to do with it?” I try to ignore the cold feeling in my chest.

“Take it to another trailhead,” he says smoothly. “Leave it there. Walk back. Throw the keys in the woods.” He smiles at me. It’s oddly reassuring. “I’ll help you load up your car first, though.”

He comes with me into the cabin. Everything’s exactly how I left it, which is unnerving because I feel like a completely different person. I have Sawyer Caldwell’s teeth marks on my shoulder. My pussy and throat are both sore. I gave myself over to him, and I fucking liked it.

Focus . “I’ll get my suitcase packed,” I tell him. “I don’t have a whole lot.”

“How about your food?” He nods toward the kitchen. “We can bring that back to my place. We can try to use up anything that’ll spoil tonight.”

Part of me wants to leave the food behind. That’s the ED voice, and I know it, trying to claw its way back into my life just like Scott is. I shouldn’t eat. Not eating will purify me.

“That sounds nice,” I tell him.

He grins wolfishly and ducks around the counter and starts flinging open cabinets. I leave him to it before the ED voice makes me change my mind.

My bedroom also looks how I left it, with the comforter halfheartedly tossed over the mattress and my pile of dirty clothes in the corner. I gather those up first and toss them in the washing machine. I want as many clean clothes as possible before I go to Sawyer’s .

I’ve just started the cycle when I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It’s Charlotte.

I hesitate before swiping to answer.

“Oh thank god,” she says, before I’ve even gotten out a full hello . “Tell me you’re okay. Where are you? Are you still at the cabin?”

I peer around the edge of the hallway so I can see Sawyer rummage around in the fridge. He’s already pulled out the few pantry items I bought, canned soup and a bag of brown rice. He glances over at me, smiling—although it turns to a frown when he sees me on the phone.

“I’m fine,” I tell Charlotte and Sawyer both, my eyes locked onto his. He nods, and I duck back into the hallway and scurry into my room. “And yes, I’m at the cabin now.”

“You can’t stay there,” she says, breathless.

I freeze. “Why not?”

“Scott’s looking for you,” she says. “Those PIs that came by? They know where you are. They came to visit me and asked how long you’d been in Virginia. I told him you weren’t in Virginia, I had no idea where you?—”

“I’m leaving.” I blurt it out, the first thing I can think to say. Charlotte still doesn’t know that one of those PIs actually came here , and I don’t want to tell her, because then it’s one more path for a cop to trace between me and his death. Sawyer said I don’t need to worry about cops, but I don’t believe him.

“You’re what?”

“Leaving. I—” I hate lying to Charlotte, but I can’t very well tell her the truth, can I? “I ran into an old friend from high school.” Is that how you’re describing the Fat Camp Killer now ? “I went into Roanoke and he had moved there from DC. It was such a fluke?—”

“Right.”

“Anyway, he invited me to stay with him for a little while. That’ll get me out of the cabin, at least. ”

“It’s better than nothing. But Edie, you need to be careful, okay? Scott, he—” Her voice wavers, and I squeeze the phone tighter.

“He what, Charlotte?”

“He came to see me, too.”

Ice pours through my body.

“He was with the two PIs. He didn’t—didn’t say much. Just sat there and stared at me. And he?—”

The floorboards creak, and I look up to see Sawyer step into the doorway, his face a mask of concern.

“He scared the fuck out of me,” Charlotte finishes.

“What do you mean?” I force myself to look away from Sawyer. To focus on Charlotte. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. But he—he threatened me, I think? He sent the two PIs out after they finished asking me questions and then told me that he knew I was helping you and that once he found you, he would—” She takes a deep breath. “That he wouldn’t ‘let us embarrass him.’ Exact words.”

I can barely move. I just stare at the wall, my breath tight and fast. When Sawyer touches me, I jump, nearly dropping my phone.

He turns me around and gives me a questioning look.

“Edie, you know I don’t want to freak you out, but it really sounded like—like he doesn’t want a divorce, if you know what I mean? Like he’d rather keep you trapped?”

Of course Scott doesn’t want a divorce. A divorce would make him a failure, and it would grant me freedom, and he couldn’t have that. Me, as a divorcee, can tell people what he did. What he tried to do.

What he’s going to do if he finds me.

“Edie?” Charlotte’s voice is quick and panicky. “Shit, did the call drop?”

“I’m here,” I say quickly, letting myself lean into Sawyer. He wraps his arms around me without a word. “I—I know what you mean, about Scott. I’ll?—”

“You should get out of that cabin before the PIs find you and go to the police.”

Too late for that.

“Really?” I make my voice light and joking. “I thought you were all about ACAB?”

“I don’t trust him, Edie.”

I sigh. “I don’t have any proof for the police,” I say. “But I’m going to leave, okay? I’m going to stay with my friend.”

“You don’t need proof!” Charlotte cries. “You’re a rich white lady! They’ll actually fucking listen to you! At least have them come check on you or something!”

I press my forehead into Sawyer’s chest, breathing him in, wishing I could tell Charlotte everything that has happened. “Fine,” I say. “I will.”

And then you’ll lie to Charlotte about what they say, too.

“You should leave,” I say, pulling away from Sawyer and walking over to the window on the other side of the room. The view of the forest is still tangled and wet after the rain. “Get out of town. Don’t let Scott see you again.”

“He’s not worried about me, Edie. He wants you .”

“I know he does.” My reflection ghosts over the forest outside. I look strange with my tousled hair and wrinkled, mostly-dry sweater. “And I’ll be safe, okay? I’ll go to the police. I promise.”

In the reflection, Sawyer comes up behind me, dark and imposing. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and presses his mouth to the top of my head.

“No police,” he whispers, so faintly I almost think I imagine it.

“I’ll let you know when I’m settled,” I tell Charlotte. Then I hang up and set the phone on the sill.

“No police,” Sawyer says, louder this time. Forceful .

“Of course not.” I turn to face him, to see his real face and not the transparent reflection in the window. “That was my friend Charlotte. The one who helped me get away from Scott. He’s—” I’m shaking as I draw my arms around my chest. “He’s coming for me.”

Sawyer’s frown deepens. His eyes turn black as night.

“He wants to kill me,” I whisper hoarsely.

Sawyer grabs my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. In this moment, I see the monster of him.

“He will not kill you,” Sawyer says.

I let out a choking sob and fall into him, burying my nose in his neck. He holds me tight—almost too tight. I don’t care.

“Finish packing,” Sawyer says. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is over.”