30. Roni

It'd been eight days since we left Washington, and I was finally starting to feel like an actual Alaskan. The cold wasn't so bad with my winter coat, although it wasn't waterproof and none of my books survived. While I was disappointed, Diego never let me have a moment to get bored.

Between setting up the boobytraps, scouting the few square miles around the cabin, and exploring each other's bodies, when my head hit the pillow each night, I was sound asleep in seconds.

With each hour that passed, the anticipation and anxiety seemed to increase. Yesterday before bed, Diego taught me how to use the shotgun, although I wasn't allowed to practice shooting it. "We don't want to take a chance on the sound drawing anyone to us." I was disappointed, but he was right. Things were different. It wasn't a matter if the Geneva Project found us; it was when.

All our free time was spent training with our silent weapons and hiding the spare bows and arrows in the woods. They were the backup plan for if I had to run and hide, then I could beeline to a set and have a sure and silent weapon to defend myself with.

"What are you thinking about?" Diego asked me, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I was freezing cold after our mind-blowing sex in the river. With the sun shining on our backs, we made our way back up the path to the cabin. The slope always seemed to do a number on my calves, but each trip up seemed to get a little easier. I became more confident in my footwork.

"A lot, but at this second I'm thinking about how cold I am, and I'm hoping you can warm me up by the fire."

He smirked. "I don't need a fire to make you burn up."

I got wet just thinking about what his skilled tongue could do to me. I put a little pep in my step, hoping to get to the cabin that much sooner. Some things I'd always be impatient for, and Diego was now one of them. We still hadn't discussed the elephant in the room, our budding relationship. The outside pressures only seemed to make the conversation more necessary, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to go there. I chose to read between the lines, or more specifically, between his legs.

We were halfway up the path when Diego came to a stop. I wasn't fully paying attention, distracted by the feather-light touch of the sun's rays on my face and thoughts of Diego's head between my knees. I slammed into his back, and he reached back and caught my arm before I could lose my balance and fall backward down the trail.

He turned his head toward me and had a finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. "I hear voices," he whispered. "Stay here. I'm going to poke my head up to see who found us. If I yell, cross the river and head to Anchorage. It's about twenty miles, but you can do it." He pulled the gun out from his waistband and checked to make sure that it was ready if he needed it. My own was tucked into my waistband, and my bow rested on my right shoulder. I never went anywhere without it now.

I nodded, hoping it wouldn't come to that. I zipped up my jacket and tied up my boots. If I needed to run, I didn't want anything to slow me down. I watched as Diego slowly made his way up the rest of the path. His crouched position gave him a stealthy advantage.

When he was at the top of the path, he laid in the prone position. He used the cover of brush to help disguise himself. He waited about thirty seconds in the prone, his body tense, ready to move at a moment's notice. He quickly stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. My heart kicked into overdrive and then dropped down through my ass. I was ready to start running down the path if he told me to. My sweaty palms would make it hard to hold my bow steady if need be.

"Hey, fuckers! What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell did you find me?" Then he laughed.

He laughed.

He turned around and waved me up the path. I was utterly shocked and confused as I put one boot in front of the other and trekked the rest of the way up the path. Who the hell could have found us all the way out here?

When I came to a stop next to Diego, I laid eyes on a small group of people. The sight of them was a little overwhelming. The six men and four women were all gorgeous. One of them looked oddly familiar.

"Seriously, how the hell did you guys find me?" Diego asked as he approached them, and I followed. "And how'd you get around our defenses without any injuries?"

"You bought this cabin with your other alias. I get alerts sent to me for all of our aliases, just in case someone steals one. I knew you bought this place the moment the title company entered the name into their system," one of the men said. He seemed nerdy but still very in shape and the military type.

"And we knew exactly what kinds of traps you set up, because we would have done the same. Nice touch with the front porch steps," another commented.

"I should have figured," Diego mumbled as he scratched his head. "Well, let me introduce you guys." He gestured from me to his friends.

"Roni, these are my friends. The buff guy and his bombshell blonde are Strong and Abbi." The guy was way more than buff; he was massive. The tattoos that covered his arms and neck gave him biker or mafia vibes, but he couldn't shake that military vibe completely. All the guys seemed to have it. Abbi also had tattoos all over her body, but she was gorgeous—all fit with figure-forming athletic wear. They both nodded at me before Diego moved onto the next introduction.

"Over here is Jones and his fiancée Jasmine." The man looked oddly familiar. I knew he wasn't his lookalike actor, but I felt like I'd seen him somewhere before. And his fiancée Jasmine, she looked fierce in her leather jacket and skin-tight jeans.

"Where have I seen you before?" I asked Jones.

He smiled as if I'd stroked his ego. "Do you follow sports?"

A professional athlete? The only sports I followed were football and soccer. "On occasion."

"I played in the NFL for a short time a few years back." A look of longing briefly crossed his face before he masked it with a small smile. He missed the NFL. I was sure there was a story there.

"That explains it," I commented with a small smile. If I remembered correctly, he was injured on the field and never returned. The NFL liked to parade him around every November for Military Appreciation Month. They'd plastered his face and his service pictures everywhere.

"Over here is Wells and his wife Christine Daniels." Christine didn't need an introduction. She was well known, practically an A-list celebrity. As VP of the largest oil company in the country, possibly the world, that already made her really connected. Add the fact that she's responsible for the company's new initiatives to focus on obtaining sustainable energy responsibly, she's on everyone's interview list. But she'd only give an interview if the organization spent half the interview talking about the organization she started to help victims of kidnapping and trafficking. My father switched between raving and bitching about her. She lobbied for several issues, some being on the same side of his fence, and several on the opposite.

"It's a pleasure to meet you formally. We've attended several of the same events, but you know how the Secret Service can be," I greeted her.

"They can't be any worse than this caveman here. It's great to meet you, too," Christine responded as she pointed to her husband. "He's my head of security, and he's a little too good at his job. I've been told I'm not as approachable as I used to be." She then stepped forward to wrap me in a hug. It was nice, because I didn't get many of those in Washington. The Secret Service had rules.

I gave her a small laugh, because her husband was on the large side, although not as big as Strong. He looked like he was headstrong enough to take on a bear with his bare hands.

"This is Yates and Natalia," Diego said as he pointed to another familiar face. Natalia, former Ambassador Ali, was someone I'd seen several times while in Washington. She attended a dinner at the White House six months ago. If Diego didn't know or trust these people, I would have suspected that my dad sent her here to spy on me.

"It's good to see you again, Ambassador." I reached out to shake her hand, something she'd be very accustomed to in Washington.

She lightly took my hand and shook. "Please, call me Natalia. We aren't in Washington anymore." She gave me a wide smile, and her eyes lit up. Did she detest the city, too?

"I'm Yates," her boyfriend said. "And I'll get this out in the open so we can move past it." He lifted up his pants leg. "I lost it on a sea voyage, bitten clean off by a shark. Don't worry about offending me or trying to cater to my needs. I'm faster than that asshole right there," he said as he pointed to Jones.

Natalie looked like she was trying to suppress a laugh. Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes started watering. Christine and Jasmine did the same, and Abbi and Strong rolled their eyes.

"He's lying," Diego said, ruining Yate's fun. "Lost it on a mission, stepped on an explosive device."

Yates punched Diego in the arm. "Asshole, you're no fun." He then crossed his arms and pretended to pout as Natalia ran her hand up and down his arm in quiet support, all while still trying to suppress her laugh.

"And over here is Mendez. You may remember him from our call on the way to the airport. Then there is Guy, our tech expert."

Mendez was just as handsome as he'd appeared on the video call. His appearance was somewhat similar to Diego. His complexion was similar, and they were sporting similar hairstyles. If I didn't know better, I would have suspected they could have been related. Guy was the most in-shape tech expert I'd ever seen. In Washington, they were mostly skinny Caucasian men—but Guy broke the mold with his darker skin and in-shape physique.

"Great to meet you both," I said politely. Mendez stepped forward and wrapped me in a hug. When he pulled back, he said, "So I finally get to meet Garcia's childhood arch rival. Glad to see you've kissed and made up." His lips peeled back into a wide smile. The group around us chuckled, and Diego's face turned red, likely matching mine. Diego told them about me previously? I didn't think he would—although Diego might have come up in a couple of conversations with Nina.

My heart hurt as I thought of Nina. She would have loved being out in the Alaska wilderness, and she would have loved Diego.

"Moving on…" Diego said as he tried to change the subject. "Why are you guys here? We were trying to lay low and off the radar. Surely this many people going through town aroused some suspicion."

"Nah, man, we flew commercial into Anchorage over several flights and then booked a reservation under our aliases at the resort on the other side of the mountain, drove vehicles and everything. Only hiked from the resort to here, so we'd be here quickly, and it's a good thing we did."

Oh no, we had enough bad news with several private jets expected at the airport within days, if they hadn't already arrived. I guessed the one bright side was that there was a larger group to help defend the cabin. Who was I kidding? The cabin wasn't what was being protected; it was me. His friends flew in to help him protect me. I'd never felt like more of a liability, even though I was capable now.

"Four private jets landed at the airport about two hours after we arrived. We got a look at some of the passengers, definitely mercenaries. The Geneva Project is confident you guys are here and determined to find you."

"Looks like we got here just in time," Jasmine said as she crossed her arms and leaned against Jones.

"We did," Wells added. "And we brought enough gear and supplies that no one should need to leave our campsite here and risk being split up."

I hoped they brought food and tents, because we certainly didn't have enough to feed them, and twelve of us in the cabin would be a very tight squeeze.

As if he'd read my thoughts, Wells directed the team. "Jones and Jasmine, why don't you guys take care of setting up the tents? Yates and Nat, you take care of the portable tent stoves. Strong you're chopping wood, and Abbi you're on hunting duty—bag us a deer or something." Those who'd gotten their assignments broke away from the group to get started, wasting no time. It was fall, and there was less and less sunlight each day. There was probably less than two hours left before nightfall.

"Guy, you do your thing. Make sure that we aren't traceable here. Mendez, you join Christine and me. We're going to continue turning this place into a fortress." He turned to Diego. "Where's all your supplies?"

Diego smiled. "Let me show you."

Just like that, Diego and I had neighbors.