Page 49

Cameron

T his was not what I had in mind when Nate said we were going to a police safe house. In my mind, I’d pictured a windowless concrete Quonset hut or an underground bunker. Maybe some rundown flop house in a less traveled area. A campground was not what I’d had in mind.

A carved wooden sign above the gravel drive read: Harmony Brook Campground .

I looked over at Nate as he pulled in. “This is the safe house?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Ollie gave me the key to one of the cabins. There’s sort of an under-the-table deal between the campground owners and the Toronto PD.

They keep one cabin open exclusively for the cops to use in situations like this.

” Nate put the car into park. “I track people for a living, and I’d probably never think to look here. Come on.”

I got out of the car, stretching my arms over my head to work the kinks out of my back.

The drive from Toronto had taken about forty-five minutes.

Not a long drive, but after the fight and the run this morning, my body was tight and sore.

It felt good to move around and get the blood flowing again.

While Nate went in to inform the registration desk that we were here, I walked around, inspecting the place.

It was nice. Not the sort of place I’d ever been before.

There hadn’t been much time or money when I was a kid to go camping, or anywhere in general.

A creek ran around the west side of the campground, and small cabins lined the shore in a semicircle.

On the east side, a ton of spots for tents and RVs stood shrouded in a glade of trees.

Most of them were occupied. The center of the property held a big, covered pavilion with a stage on one side.

Several large speakers hung from the ceiling, almost like it was a performance area for a band or something.

“We’re good to go,” Nate said. “It’s the cabin at the farthest end.”

“Were they weird about it?” I asked. “The special cabin being used?”

Nate smirked at me. “The lady at the desk seemed a little surprised. Then she got all quiet and serious. Poor woman acted like she was in a spy movie or something.”

I grabbed my bag from the trunk. Nate took out the saddlebags he’d removed from his bike and threw them over his shoulder, leading me toward the cabin.

As we walked toward the cabin, more of the campground came into view.

A small playground stood off in the trees near the tent sites, and behind the registration building was a swimming pool and another building with a sign that read: Chow House .

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the building.

“It’s where they serve lunch and dinner.” He pointed to the pavilion. “Breakfast is a buffet out there every morning, but in the evening, they convert it to a cash bar.”

“Oh, God, a vodka cranberry sounds amazing,” I sighed. Anything to take the edge off the disaster the last twenty-four hours had been.

“We’ll see what we can find once we’re settled in.”

The cabin was tucked up against the creek and looked much smaller now that we were in front of it.

A tiny porch with just enough space for two rocking chairs overlooked the water.

Nate unlocked the door and stepped in. The living room, dining room, small kitchenette, and bathroom were all on the bottom floor.

Up a tiny flight of stairs was a king-sized bed and a closet.

“It’s a little tight,” I said.

“Cozy,” Nate said with a grin as he set his saddlebags on the couch. “You take the bed upstairs, I’ll sleep here.”

“If you say so.”

I hauled my bag up the stairs and tossed it into the closet. Nate and I both freshened up in the bathroom. By the time we were done, the sun had slipped below the horizon and I could hear some kind of music or soundcheck going on outside.

Frowning, I peered out of the window. “What is that?”

“There’s a live band tonight. Wanna go have a drink and check it out?” Nate asked. “Might be a nice way to unwind. We’re far enough from the city that I don’t think we need to worry about keeping a super low profile.”

“Sure.”

We took up a spot at one of the many tables under the pavilion. A low hum of standard DJ music played through the speakers while the band set up and tested their equipment. When Nate went up to the bar, I mulled over everything that had happened.

My whole life seemed to be over. Everything had come crashing down like a house of cards, and now I was fumbling around trying to restack them.

No, that wasn’t totally true. I had to remind myself that I still had my family and my dream job.

I’d brought along my computer and notes.

While we were here, I could finish up and send in my pending assignments.

I’d written enough articles over the last week that I could send in the meantime—a fluff piece about an art show the past weekend, a fashion conference that was supposed to happen at the end of the month, and a big 4-H science fair coming up.

All boring stuff, but in line with the lifestyle and leisure section.

That would keep Brent off my ass for a while.

We would only be here a few days, so my work wouldn’t suffer for too long.

I’d even emailed my boss asking for an extension on the serial killer story because I’d discovered some new information on the case and wanted to track down a few more leads.

Not a total lie, but I also wasn’t sure how to approach the story now that I was squarely in the middle of it.

That was an angle I’d need to figure out.

It went against my journalistic integrity to leave something important out of a story, but it would have to be that way.

Maybe there was a way to fudge the story to cover any wolf involvement yet keep the integrity?

I’d have to think about that. If nothing else, it might help ingratiate me to this pack I would need to join.

As I watched the guitarist on stage tune his guitar, I thought things could have been worse.

I could have ended up engaged to Rick. I’d dodged a hell of a bullet.

Yet, as much as I despised what I’d turned into with Rick, I still mourned the life I’d hoped for and all it had entailed.

Maybe one day, I could find that with someone else.

I promised myself that I’d never be blinded by money and power again. It made me sick to even think about it now.

Nate weaved his way through the crowd to our table. The sight of him reminded me that my life had gone sideways fast. Not only had I lied to my boss, but I’d also had to lie to my family. How was I supposed to keep it a secret that I was a shifter?

Yet, somehow, that wasn’t even the biggest disturbance in my life. Nate was. He’d crashed into my life like a meteor. From the moment I met him outside my apartment, it seemed like the universe was determined to push us closer and closer together.

He set a bottle of Corona in front of me, a little slice of lime sticking out of the mouth.

“Only beers and wine coolers,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, no vodka cranberry.”

Using my thumb to shove the lime down into the bottle, I smiled. “This works. Thank you.”

Nate took a seat beside me, and we watched as the band finished tuning up. The crowd had grown to about a hundred, which made me feel safer. Nate and I could sort of vanish into the mass of people. All worries about being noticed faded as the sun went down and the people around us multiplied.

The lead singer stepped up to the mic and waved at everyone. “Hey there. We’re The River Rats. Thanks for coming out.”

They then launched into a pretty good rendition of Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love.” The speakers were loud enough to give the music some depth, but not loud enough to make it difficult to talk.

That was good, because I still had a thousand questions running through my head that I’d been too stressed out to ask on our drive up.

“Nate?”

He swallowed his drink and looked over. “Yeah?”

“I still have some things I want to know.”

He grinned and chuckled. “Why am I not surprised that the reporter has more questions?”

I huffed. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Shoot,” he said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear.”

His willingness to speak showed me that my initial opinion of him had been completely wrong.

The first time I met him, I’d pegged him as a secretive, operative type who’d keep me in the dark about anything and everything.

In reality, he was just guarded and quiet by nature.

I’d always assumed I was a good judge of character, but Nate and Rick had shown me that the opposite might be true.

While I’d thought Nate would be the one to hide secrets and Rick had my best interests at heart, I’d been wrong.

Rick was full of obsession, control, and self-centered desire.

Nate, while flirtatious and cocky, had been honest from the beginning.

He’d never hidden anything from me. He was a nomad and wasn’t likely to want to stick things out or hang around long-term, but he was an open book when it came to most things.

He’d laid the cards out on the table and told me the truth.

There were a few cards he hadn’t turned over yet, but he’d at least let me know the cards existed and that he’d flip them over when he could.

I’d only known him a week, but he’d given me more truth than Rick had in the months we’d been together.

After clearing my throat, I said, “You mentioned something about bonding . What is that? We never got time for you to explain it better.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Didn’t think that was what you’d ask first,” he said, putting his beer down.

“But I’ll try to explain.” He took a deep breath.

“So, the wolf side of a shifter can be very territorial. It comes from the natural instinct of true wolves. You have territory and a pack you want to protect. Right?”

“I guess so,” I said, still not sure where he was going with this.