Had Maksim sent her to find me? I wouldn’t expect a woman like her for a spy for the mob, so that would make her perfect. But a spy? He couldn’t imagine Maksim would let a beauty like her slip out of his grasp. He’d want her for himself, and that thought bothered him more than it should have.
I didn't know who the hell she was, so I needed to keep my guard up. But she needed help. She needed to be patched up, taken care of.
Bringing her back to my cabin crossed my mind, but I didn’t like anyone knowing where I lived. The whole point of being up here was so no one could find me. Or figure out who I was.
Even if this girl was an innocent pedestrian, it was a major risk to let her know about my life here. I didn't exactly blend in. I was a fucking big ass Russian with a deep accent and mob tattoos all over his neck and body. Not exactly your everyday average nice guy. More like the kind of dude that had things to hide. I was bound to draw attention. And that was all Maksim would need to find me.
But fuck, I couldn’t leave her here. She needed help. And damned if I was going to abandon this creature. No fucking way. I grunted, ignoring the voice screaming at the back of my mind that I was making a colossal mistake, and lifted her in my arms again. She was unconscious, so she wouldn’t know how we got to the cabin, I rationalized.
The trek to the cabin was a little harder after the mudslide. The ground was slippery and unstable, and I had to leave my axe. Couldn’t carry her and it, so I’d have to come back later. I made it after nearly double the time I would have made it on a normal day and welcomed the comfort of my home nestled in the shadows.
The cabin was small but cozy, and it was comfortable for what I needed. The bedroom and bathroom were separate from the open plan living room and kitchenette, and I had running water after I’d tinkered some with existing, rusting pipes. The water came from a natural stream higher up, but I had managed to get it flowing into the house.
The cabin was warm when I shouldered open the door and carried her to my bedroom. I carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. I studied her more closely, making sure she didn’t have any visibly serious injuries. A bump to the head, a few minor scratches and bruises, but nothing appeared to be broken.
Carefully, I peeled the torn jacket from her shoulders. She moaned softly when I moved her, and the sound made my balls tighten.
Fuck. What I would give to... Nyet, I scolded myself again. I would not give in to my primal urge.
The blouse she wore gaped dangerously low. The top two buttons had snapped, and the swell of one breast showed, leaving just enough to the imagination.
My cock punched against my jeans - cursing me for trying so hard to tame the beast inside. I wanted her, that much was excessively clear. I hadn’t responded like this to a woman in a long time, but my cock had a mind of its own, straining upward, needing a release.
I’d seen a few women when stopping by the local town for supplies over the years, but no one like her. Had I been the same man I once was, this internal struggle probably wouldn’t have even existed. I would have waited for her to awaken, seduced her, and fucked her brains out. But now, I didn’t want the complications a woman added to my life.
I had to contain myself. I huffed with frustration and turned away to focus on something else. My shoulder was throbbing. I cursed and tried to look at the back of my shoulder. Blood had fused my shirt against my skin, and I grunted when I tried to pull it off, feeling the fabric pulling at the wound. I walked to the bathroom, intending to take care of the large gash and forget about the stunning woman laying on my bed.
I needed to take care of myself. I needed to keep my head straight. I glanced through the door to the bed where I could see most of her body and part of her face. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Not ideal for the bruises all over her body.
If I could keep my shit together, I would have to undress her. Get rid of the clothing that hung on her body like she was doing it a damn favor - at least she was by my assessment of her luscious curves.
Even in her unconscious state, everything about her was beautiful, pure. Angelic.
What the fuck had she been doing on the mountainside? And so early? Her truck – I assumed it was hers – was probably fucked beyond recognition. We would deal with that later. One thing at a time.
I finally got my shirt off my back. It was ripped where the branch had dug into my skin, and the wound looked nasty, the skin jagged and ripped. I splashed cold water on it and hissed at the pain.
I couldn’t do much else to the wound because of its placement, so I focused on the unexpected guest in my bedroom. I needed to make sure there was hot water when she woke up. I had running water but not much heat, so I walked to the stove and put on a kettle.
When my damsel in distress awoke, I could offer her something warm to drink to help soothe her fears. The fears that would surely come after realizing she was alone in a cabin with a colossal Russian, inked up with mob tattoos.
Yep, the chamomile tea would help smooth things over.
.
Angela
Oh my God, everything hurts, I thought as I shifted. I needed something for the throbbing pain.
The first thing I became aware of, before I even opened my eyes, was a pounding headache in my left temple. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. I blinked my eyes open, piercing light in the room forcing me to close my eyes again for a moment. I groaned and opened them and finally saw the room I was in. The place looked like something out of a hunting magazine.
A real cabin, with walls made of logs, a sleeper-style bed, a crude wardrobe against the wall, and a bearskin rug on the floor. Cozy. I half expected the stuffed head of a deer or antlers above the bed. Luckily, however, there was only a naked lightbulb.
I sat up and groaned, but my eyes remained opened. Where the hell am I?
When I looked down, I realized I wasn’t wearing my clothes but was in an oversized men’s t-shirt. And no bottoms other than my panties. I still wore my socks, but that seemed like an afterthought. My skin was scraped and bruised in several places. I pressed my fingers to a bruise, blossoming on my forearm, and winced when it hurt. I had a few bandages on my legs and right shoulder. What the hell happened to me?
“Hello?” I called out but got no answer. I climbed off the bed, steadying myself. I felt dizzy and sore, but I needed answers.
My wounds were bandaged. Where was I and how had I ended up here? I tried to remember, but my mind was blank. I remembered the Halloween party at the office on the weekend, then I remembered getting to work on Monday morning. The decorations for the party had still been up. Little Jack-O-Lanterns and witches hanging from the ceiling. Cobwebs in the office corners. But after that…
I didn’t even know what day it was. I scrambled for my phone. Tuesday. Somewhere, I’d lost a whole day. And when I only had a week left, a day wasn’t something I could afford.
I had no signal. I tried putting my phone on flight mode so that it searched for the nearest cell tower when I switched it back, but still nothing. I tried dialing, but that didn’t work either. Panic coursed through my body, but I didn’t give in to it yet.
The cabin was quiet, which was both comforting and alarming. The place was rustic, a lot less done up than some of the cabins I’d seen decorated and advertised around town. Houses with a hunting-cabin feel were all the rage these days. But this… it seemed like someone actually chose to live like this without even basic luxuries. No stove, no heat except the fireplace, minimum furniture. Luckily, I’d seen a bathroom with a toilet and hoped for running water.