Cabin 1 Page 17

  “It’s like Fort Knox in here.”

  Amusement flickered on his face. “I’m sure it is. The Steele brothers don’t cut corners… with their business anyway.” He shifted his gaze to me, scanning me from head to toe before saying, “Just be careful with Gage, okay?”

  “What do you mean, exactly?”

  “You’ve been through a lot, Miss Avery. The Steele brothers have a reputation in this town. Gage… had drinks with my cousin a few months back. Never spoke to her again. Honestly, I don’t like the guy.” His jaw twitched. “The last thing you need is to have your heart broken.”

  A strange defensiveness, a protectiveness over the misunderstood man I’d just slept with, crept through my system. I knew about Gage’s escapades. I also knew what had just happened between us. I knew I loved him.

  “I can handle picking up the pieces.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Officer Haddix, did you come here to tell me not to sleep with Gage Steele, or perhaps you had something else related to my attack that is your business.”

  His brow cocked, a slight smile crossing his face. He chuckled. “With that little attitude, maybe Gage has met his match. Anyway, yes and no, I did come by to warn you about Gage, but also…” he handed me the bag he’d been holding. “Here’s the keys to your car, your purse, and cell phone. Your car’s outside the station, ready for you whenever.”

  I grabbed the bag like contraband. “Oh my God, thank you. Did you find anything? Prints on the car, my things, anything?”

  His lips thinned as he shook his head.

  “Damn. Well, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I was in the area, anyway. On my way to check on my nephew who’s camping on the river. Rowdy boys they are. Then, back to town. Would you like me to take you to your car? It’d be no problem at all.”

  I glanced out the window toward the main house, my stomach twisting at the thought of leaving Gage. Not tonight. Not yet.

  “No, actually, I can get it tomorrow.”

  “Okay, then. Have a good one.” He turned.

  “Officer Haddix?”

  He paused.

  “Thank you. Not only for bringing by my things… for the fair warning.”

  He looked over his shoulder and winked. “You’re a tough one, Avery. Just keep your eyes open.”

  “Will do.”

  Gage

  “Hey.” Ax pushed out the front door and walked down the steps. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Truth was, I’d already forgotten about the bullshit argument in the kitchen. “Hey, you said you talked to Haddix today, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  I glanced back toward the dirt road at the bottom of the hill. “Any idea why he’d want to talk to Niki right now?”

  “Not sure; mentioned to me that he was going to check on her Jeep at some point today.” He shrugged. “Could be a million reasons to talk to her right now.”

  He had a point.

  “Go check on her… you whipped son of a bitch.” Grinning, Ax picked up the foam football and chucked it at me.

  I froze as the ball fell to my feet.

  My blood turned ice cold.

  “What?” Ax frowned.

  My thoughts were a jumbled circus, racing faster than I could push out the words. “Niki’s attacker was left handed…”

  “Yeah, you mentioned that…”

  The vision of the football spiraling into the woods earlier flashed through my head like a horror movie on loop. My brother’s voice faded behind me as I spun on my heel and sprinted to Ax’s Harley that was still parked outside.

  Paul Taylor was left-handed.

  Niki

  I watched Haddix’s car disappear down the driveway, and after shutting and locking the door, the low grumble of a truck pulled my attention back outside.

  Another vehicle came inching up the driveway, this one a truck. My mouth dropped.

  I pushed through the door. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Paul Taylor, the ex-boyfriend who apparently couldn’t let go, slid out of his truck and shut the door.

  “I came by to talk.” His eyes locked on me as he crossed the gravel.

  “Talk to me again? Listen, Paul, we ended weeks ago. I don’t know why you can’t let go. I’ve got a lot I’m dealing with—”

  “I’m sure you do. Locking away good people, destroying lives.”

  “What are you talking about?” I scanned the woods for Gage.

  “Mickey Greco was a good man, Niki.” Paul stepped onto the porch. “Like a father to me.” His face flushed a deep red, matching the fire in his eyes. “He and his wife took me in when my parents died. They were my foster family for three years when I was in elementary school. They took me in when no one else did.”

  My heart started to pound as I reached for my necklace with one hand and slowly inched backward searching for the door knob with the other.

  He continued, “You never noticed that I asked you out right when you started poking around in Mickey’s life, huh?”

  My finger slammed the red SOS button on the pendant. Keep him talking, was all I could think. Keep him talking until Gage got there.

  “You started dating me to get close to Mickey’s case. See my cards.” My hand slid over the knob, my back against the door.

  “Trust me, I’da liked to see more than just your cards. Unfortunately, your pussy’s locked up as tight as your laptop was.” He inched closer. “There were three things Mickey taught me. One, always have someone do your dirty work. Well, you went and killed that bastard last night. Two… loyalty or death.”

  My heart slammed against my ribcage.

  “And three, Mickey taught me the importance of teaching people their lessons.” He stepped closer. “Here’s yours.”

  The light reflected off the barrel of a pistol as Paul pulled it from his belt. Panic ripped through me and I lunged to the side as the blast pierced my eardrums, the bullet shattering the wood on the front door.

  I scrambled backward, until my spine hit the deck railing.

  Paul spun toward me, gun raised, eyes wild. I was backed into the corner, literally, with no way to protect myself and nowhere to run.

  Fight, or die.

  Fight, or die, I told myself.

  Flashbacks of the knife piercing Ian’s neck, the feeling when the blade cut through the skin, the blood squirting out, the images spun in my head, inciting a blow of adrenaline through my veins.

  The human need for survival.

  I leapt forward, grabbing for the gun. Our bodies collided with the force of two sumo wrestlers in the ring. The gun flew from his hand, skipping across the wood slats. We both turned and dove for it, swatting, grasping, reaching until it tumbled off the deck and disappeared in the darkness. He grabbed my legs, pulling me backward, shards of wood slicing my skin like tiny blades. I twisted on my side and dragged my fingernails down his neck.

  He threw himself off me. “You fucking bitch.”

  As I scrambled up, I caught the glimpse of a flower pot a split second before it slammed into my skull.

  21

  Gage

  The wind whipped around me like ice over my heated skin as I sped through the woods with only the headlight from Ax’s Harley cutting through the dark night. Ax was somewhere behind me, the others were on their way.

  Over the rumble of the motorcycle, a gunshot echoed through the air like a missile through my gut. My heart stopped, followed by a kickstart of panic, racing like a meth overdose. The bike ramped a rock, and I struggled to stay upright. Not ideal conditions for a motorcycle. Correction, worst conditions ever for a bike. I frantically scanned the woods, looking for Paul, for Niki.

  Shadows from the full moon slinked from tree to tree, teasing me, taunting me.

  Fucking Paul Taylor.

  I ground my teeth so hard I was sure I cracked a tooth.

  Paul Taylor.

  Hold on Niki, I repeated over and over.
Hold on. I’m coming. The moonlight caught a flash of metal ahead of me—a truck hauling ass down the mountain on a trail we only ever used for our ATV’s. I cranked the bars, weaving through the trees, following the taillights. Faster, faster, knowing I had the advantage because I knew every tree, boulder, and dip on this mountain.

  As I came up behind him, the light reflected off a four-wheeler secured in the bed—a Polaris Sportsman. The same one captured on our security cameras. The same one that carried the bastard that shot at Niki.

  Niki.

  He had her, I knew it in my gut. I darted around the trees and pulled up beside the truck, inches from the door. I looked inside, and my stomach dropped to my feet.

  Niki’s body lay crumpled in the passenger seat, her head dangling above the floor mat as if her neck had been snapped. Her eyes were closed, mouth open. My chest constricted with panic. I stood, leaning my body forward and pressed the throttle, knowing I was going way too fast for the terrain.

  Paul looked at me from behind the wheel. My veins burst with rage.

  Yeah fucker, I got you.

  I ramped a fallen log, and noted the location—we were only a few yards away from a deep ravine, almost impossible to see in the night. Based on how fast Paul was driving, he had no idea what laid before him. At the speed we both were going, there was no way in hell to survive that tumble.

  My heart hammered trying to put together thoughts, a plan, to prevent Niki from going off the cliff.

  Trees zoomed past.

  Ten seconds.

  I looked at Niki.

  So beautiful, so perfect. Taken. Taken from me.

  Fury dissolved my thoughts, my rationale, my common sense as the bike seemed to guide itself, pulling ahead of the truck. I gritted my teeth and focused on the massive boulder ahead.

  The world stopped around me, my vision tunneled, my mind focused only on doing whatever I had to do to keep Niki from going over that ledge.

  Hail Mary.

  I pulled up on the handlebars and ramped the boulder, hurling my body off the bike mid-air and landing in the yellow pool of headlights as the truck barreled toward me.

  Hail Mary.

  With an ear-piercing whine, the Harley flew off the cliff behind me. Paul swerved and slammed into a tree.

  The driver’s door flew open and Paul jumped out in an attempt to flee, but not before I grabbed the fucker by the hair and slammed his face into the tree. His eyes rolled into the back of his head moments before his body crumpled to the ground.

  “Niki!” I jumped into the truck and crawled to her limp body. Blood streaked her face, her clothes. Flashes of war, death, destruction played like a movie on fast forward through my head.

  “Niki, please, God, Niki…” I wrapped her in my arms, tears stinging my face.

  “Niki…”

  The moonlight danced across her face, pale, gaunt, lifeless.

  “Niki… shit, Niki.”

  I pulled her to my chest, and her eyes slowly opened.

  22

  Niki

  1 week later…

  The last of the waning sun sparkled along the forest floor, golden spotlights swaying in the cool breeze.

  I zipped up my jacket.

  “You cold?” Gage broke his stride and looked over.

  I smiled at how in tune he’d become with me over the last week. So very un-Gage-like.

  “No, I’m fine, but would be much better if you’d tell me where we were going.” I looked around at the miles and miles of woods around us, painted with the colors of fall.

  He smiled. “Almost there.”

  Pine needles crunched under my hiking boots—the shoes Gage had demanded I wore for his little impromptu, surprise trip. He’d shown up, all leather and motorcycle, at my house an hour earlier, told me to get dressed for a hike and didn’t take no for an answer.

  Very Gage-like.

  He’d driven me to the compound, past the cabins, switched to an ATV, then parked that, and got out on foot with nothing but a basket in his hand and sparkle in his eye.

  We’d been walking for about ten minutes, when I zeroed in on a boulder, marked by blurred landscape beyond that. A weird deja vu gripped me. I frowned, looking at him.

  “The ravine?”

  He nodded.

  “The ravine where you saved my life?”

  A slight nod, with a twitch of his jaw.

  My frown deepened as we drew nearer to the eighty-foot drop-off that almost took my life, and Gage’s as well.

  My stomach clenched as the memories of the last week started barreling through my head.

  Paul Taylor, an orphan of two drug-addicted parents, was taken in by Mickey Greco and his picture-perfect wife when he was a young, impressionable boy. Lived with them for three years until he was shuffled elsewhere, but not before forming a life-long bond with the psychotic bastard. Over the course of the last week, we’d learned that Mickey had kept in close contact with Paul, slowly—and secretly—grooming him to take over his drug business. They’d become thick as thieves, with Paul using his law education as leverage in the business.

  Enter me, Niki Avery.

  Paul had attached himself to me the moment he’d found out I was working the case against Mickey. The drinks, dinners, dancing were all a ruse for Paul to get as close to the case as possible, doing whatever he could to save his prodigal father from being locked up.

  When I won the case and Mickey got locked away, Paul began plotting his revenge.

  Enter Gage Steele—and the end to Paul’s freedom.

  Paul had been thrown behind bars and was likely to remain there for life, just like his mentor, who was about to face a slew of evidence pulled from Paul’s computer proving that Mickey had ordered Paul to kill his business partner, Sheila Cancio, when she’d uncovered his side-business.

  Poetic justice.

  And there I was, a week later, the bruises beginning to fade, the cuts beginning to heal, picking up the pieces of my new life one by one, with Gage never leaving my side.

  I was due back full-time at work in a few days, but not before a walk in the woods with Gage, apparently.

  I’d take it.

  “Hungry?” He asked.

  I grinned. “I could eat.”

  He grinned back and winked. “Good.” He stopped at the edge of the ravine. “We’re here.”

  As I looked over the edge, imagining the fall, Gage laid a red flannel blanket on a smooth rock, followed by the basket. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and wrapped it around my shoulders from behind, the close proximity of him sending a shiver down my spine.

  His lips tickled my ear lobe, and my body responded, warming below in record time. Gage Steele had an unearthly power over my body. That was just fine with me.

  “Sit, please,” he whispered softly.

  I turned my head with a smile. “Good job.”

  “Thanks. Working on my inner feminist.”

  I rolled my eyes and sank to the blanket. “It’s not a feminist to be polite.”

  “Hey, I’ve always been polite to you.”

  “Demanding.”

  “Fine. I’m working on my demanding…ness.”

  “As you should,” I winked.

  He opened the flaps of the woven basket—the kind that reminded me of a fifties-era black and white romance. The juxtaposition of the burly, badass alpha male and the delicate picnic basket had my heart kicking.

  “You made me a picnic…” I smiled and leaned closer to him, wanting to toss the basket aside and pull him on top of me.

  “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart…”

  I let the sweetheart slide.

  “It’s BLT’s, chips, and, most importantly...” He pulled out a bottle of expensive champagne.

  I laughed. “BLT’s, huh?”

  “I don’t cook.”

  “I do.”

  “Thank God.” He smirked.

  I assumed he’d had Dallas or Celeste put together the basket, but after handing me
a sandwich wrapped in paper towels and an unzipped baggie of crushed chips, I knew that was all Gage. And that, that, made me fall in love with him even more.

  With a pop, the cork flew into the air and disappeared over the ravine. As he poured the three-hundred dollar champagne, I asked, “Why here?”

  He said nothing for a moment, his brows knitting together in concentration.

  Finally… “I grew up here. In these woods.” He handed me a cup of bubbly, settled back and sipped. I wasn’t used to this Gage, a calmer, more reflective man than the one I’d met in the woods a week earlier.

  I liked it.

  “My dad used to take us hiking every week,” he continued. “Every single week. Said it was important to know our land and what we owned like the back of our hands. And we do, all of us, we know every inch of this land.” He chuckled. “When we were little, Phoenix would drop us miles from the house, blindfold us, then turn us loose. Last one home had to do the chores for a week. And if we took off the blindfold? A full month of chores.”

  “Let me guess, you won?”

  He laughed again, staring into the woods. “No, actually, that always went to Ax. That guy is one with nature.” He flashed me a devilish grin. “I was always the one who peeked.”

  I laughed. “Doing whatever you needed to do to get the job done.”

  He nodded, sipped.

  “So, back to the original question. Why here?”

  The paper cup twisted in his hands. “Because I refuse to let the last memory of this place be a bad one. This place…” he looked around at the dirt and fallen leaves. “This very spot has changed my life, forever.” His voice cracked. It took all my strength to hide my surprise at the emotion he was displaying. I placed my hand over his.

  He looked at me, the intensity behind his stormy eyes making my stomach sink. “You’ve changed my life, Niki.”

  Tears welled up. “You saved mine.”

  He set down his drink and pulled out a small, light blue box from the basket. “And I always will.”