“Why did you come here? If you have nothing to do with Weston, and you had no clue what had happened to me, how come you’re here?”
He sucks in air making his cheeks hollow. While I’m wondering whether I’ll be able to trust the truth coming out of his mouth, he seems to come to a decision. “I shouldn’t have told you as much as I have. But Cat, there’s really no need to go to the authorities. That kidnapping was of a team member of mine. She was taken as a lure to target my boss. Weston and his co-conspirators were dealt with, and that’s all I’m saying. But we knew a woman rented the cabin. I tracked you down as I wanted to know whether that was the end of it, or whether there was an ongoing plot with others involved.”
“You thought I had something to do with it?” My eyes widen.
“I don’t like loose ends.”
“Do you trust that I’m not a criminal mastermind organising a kidnapping?”
His reaction isn’t what I expect. I expect him to laugh or answer in a negative and produce handcuffs. Instead he says softly, “Sadly, I do.”
“Sad?” It’s at that moment I realise he looks defeated, as if all the wind’s been taken out of his sails.
What did he expect to find? Me up to my neck in conspiracy and extortion? I’d laugh if it wasn’t so serious.
“Well, now you’ve got your answer, I presume you’ll be on your way.” He’s not like Weston, he’s far too in control of himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with him being in my house. Like Weston, he makes the place seem small. Though in Weston’s case it was his bulk, Jeremiah is just larger than life.
If I wasn’t sore, hurting and, once again, as he’d predicted, hungry, I’d appreciate him as a man. But not for me. I suspect it would take a very experienced woman to handle Jeremiah Briggs, and not a shy, unassuming nurse such as myself.
I’ve been sneaking surreptitious glances at him, and now I find he’s looking directly at me. As if he can read my mind, his lips curve in a smirk.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Well,” yes. “Ungrateful as it sounds as you did rescue me, I’m safe now. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“No reason?” He looks surprised. “Woman, you’ve been chained, starved. You’re dehydrated and scared. I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone. For a start, you’ll need help around here until your wrist is better. I’m staying.”
I can’t work out why, nor know what my reaction is. On one hand, being alone will give me nightmares, but having him stay could make them worse. “You don’t need to. I’ll manage.” It’s me who’s been looking after others for a long time now. First as a nurse to the general public, and then to a patient of one. No one’s looked after me since I was a child. “And even if I do, why should it be you?”
“You got a support network?” he asks. “A man to come in and help?”
“I don’t need help.” I do, but I’m not going to admit it.
“I’m staying.” He gets up and starts to walk away, but after a second comes back. He stands awkwardly, as if uncertain, his hands rake back through his hair. As he comes to a decision, he leans forward. “If you really want me to leave, I’ll go.”
He’s made an abrupt U-turn. Now he’s given me the choice, perversely I don’t know what I want. He’s the man who saved me. I’d lost consciousness, I know that. If the rats had started eating me alive, I couldn’t have fought them off. I would have died if he hadn’t found me. The way he’s treated me since has been nothing but gentlemanly.
He hasn’t behaved as a threat toward me.
Glancing outside, I see the world growing dark. I shudder, knowing I’m going to be scared to sleep, knowing I’ll feel rats crawling all over me. Crazy as it sounds, I’d rather a stranger stay than be on my own.
If he’d looked at me with any sexual intent, if he’d copped a feel while he was dressing me, maybe I wouldn’t be of the same opinion, but just as I thought, he was too much man for me. Not once has he indicated such an interest in any way. Not that I’d expect him to, he’d go for a different type of woman to me.
“Well, do you want me to leave?”
I attempt a smile, my first of today, and many days past. It feels rusty as though it’s forced. “Did you say something about steak?”
I don’t think he’d been expecting that. His lips curve and he snorts a laugh. “I did indeed.”
16
Stormy…
I’d planned to stay, had been prepared to use my powers of persuasion, but when she told me about Tiny, I knew I had to distance myself from anything that fucker had done. So I took a chance and gave her the opportunity to kick me out. She didn’t take it.
If you asked, I’d be unable to explain what drives me to want to be here in this rundown farmhouse in Kentucky. Sure, she needs help, but normally I’d leave someone else to provide it. Hell, I could have employed professional help if there’d been no one else. My desire to be close isn’t because I’m horny for her. She’d been naked in my arms and my dick didn’t so much as twitch.
She intrigues me though. There have been flashes of the mythical red-headed temper which is probably more down to her, and nothing to do with the colour of her hair. Still, it fits. I grin to myself—she’s like a kitten spitting at a lion when she brings out those claws. If I need to stay low for a while, I’ve an idea that here, with her, I won’t get bored.
That I don’t want to bed her actually takes off some of the pressure, giving me no reason to pretend to be something I’m not. With her, I can be myself—not that I’m completely sure who that is anymore. Finn Palmer who had his dreams stolen? A SEAL whose country comes first? A Devil with my pack behind me, or, just a man who needs to rediscover himself.
Fuck knows.
Later that night while Cat is resting watching some inane program on television, I get out my laptop, hacking into the booking website and deleting all records of the reservation she’d made. Having done so, a sense of relaxation comes over me. No trail now leads to her, or to me. I’m safe here.
My grand plan to return a hero holds no water now. What could I offer but a lame statement that all loose ends have been tied? Maybe I’d be given some kudos for using my absence to work for the club, but it was yet another trip not sanctioned. The result wouldn’t be enough to stop me from being sent out bad.
Before I close my laptop down, I take a deep breath. Isn’t it better to know? Before I have second thoughts, I hack into the systems, easily diving under layers of security, some of which I’d set up myself. Rascal’s the treasurer, come secretary. While he takes only brief notes of the main decisions in church, something like me being declared out bad would be a major event to record. With shaking hands, I look through the minutes. Sure, I’m mentioned, but only with a reference to the search having started in earnest. For now, it seems they count me as part of the club.
It means I have time. But how much? There’s no doubt their patience is finite. If I return, I’ll have to throw myself on their mercy, which isn’t like any version of Finn Palmer I know.