9. Matt

NINE

MATT

Having escaped one mobster, I was in the middle of nowhere with a second one, a guy who sprayed weird shit on me so I smelled like an emergency room. And he bit my hand and insisted I had to stay with him or bad stuff would happen.

So far I hadn't seen any evidence to back up his claim. And while Dane was shady as shit, he'd never given the impression he wanted to sink his teeth into me.

Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on what was before me, not the possibility of mobsters with guns coming after me. That was the unknown, and while I'd imagined what would happen if my undercover work went ass up, the reality was far scarier than what I'd built up in my head.

I'd spent time in cabins with college and high school friends, but the building I was staring at nestled amongst shrubs wasn't a cabin. Yeah, it was made of wood, logs to be precise, so technically, did that make it a cabin? In my head a cabin was small, maybe one or two rooms, but this was huge and had three stories. I wondered how much it cost to maintain and how many bedrooms it had.

I was thinking of every superficial idea that popped into my head and not that I'd escaped a mobster boss who'd planned on killing me before he was knocked unconscious. I shivered and pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders.

The grounds surrounding the house were waterlogged with rivers of sludge pouring down the driveway. Trying to ignore the deafening roar of the swollen river, I fixed my gaze on trees bent forward, the weight of the rain breaking off some of their branches.

Putting my hands over my ears, I blocked out the violent cracking as branches slammed onto rocks, the roar of the rain and wind, and jagged lightning splitting the sky in two.

The universe was angry and lashing out, and I focused on the building, standing straight and tall despite the havoc surrounding it.

A porch wrapped around the cabin, and Ranger pulled up at the stairs while I huddled under the blanket. Getting into the car with one mobster wasn't part of my plan, especially after being held at gunpoint in a vehicle by another mafia boss. But getting out into an unknown location, nope. I wasn't doing it.

Ranger ran around to my side and opened the door. I'd been in the car a while and nothing bad had happened apart from him sinking his teeth into my palm. Nothing in my wildest dreams could've prepared me for that. But now he was expecting me to leave the safety of the car, where I'd been cocooned for a few hours. It was my sanctuary.

"No, thanks. I'll be fine."

The guy was drenched, his clothes sticking to his body. "Matt. You can't stay here." He had to yell over the rain.

"Why not?" I shouted back.

"Because it's not safe."

"Remind me what you said earlier when you abducted me?"

"Abducted?" he screeched.

"You said to be safe I had to get in the car, which by the way, isn't your car. Now you're telling me it's not safe in the car. Make up your mind. Maybe you need to look up the meaning of the word safe."

I imagined Josh's reaction if I pulled that argument. He'd tell me to shut up or ask what was wrong with me like he often did.

Ranger clenched his jaw as his saturated hoodie clung to him.

"Inside there's food, heating, a warm bath, and dry clothes."

I was as petulant as a toddler, but I wanted to be back in my apartment with the paint peeling off the walls and a spot of mold behind the bookshelves.

"Please come in."

"I'm scared, okay," I yelled. "My life, what's left of it, has been turned inside out, and I can't see a way around it."

Ranger kneeled in the mud. Ewww. "Fine. I can turn the engine on and you can stay in the car. But when the rain stops, Dane will come looking for you."

"And being in the house will stop him from shooting me?"

Ranger paused, one eye closed as the rain battered his body. "The house is more secure than the car. And once the storm passes, my brothers and other, ummm, people from our organization can get here and protect us."

It was odd thinking the devastation caused by the rain was preventing Dane from finding me. But I noted what he didn't say. Being in the house might be safer, but it wouldn't stop Dane if he was intent on capturing, torturing, and finally killing me.

I was shivering again because of the open door, and despite the amount of sugar I'd eaten, I was hungry. Putting the blanket over my head which was soaked in seconds, I reluctantly got out. Ranger punched in a code to open the front door and told me he'd be back.

"What? You're leaving me here alone?" One minute I didn't want to be with him and the next I expected him to be attached to my hip. "You lied saying you'd keep me safe."

The cold along with the torrential rain and my precarious circumstances combined and I erupted, my screech directed at the man who'd brought me here. Angry at the world, Dane, Ranger, and my own lousy choices, I didn't see a future where I wasn't a mafia guy's pawn.

Ranger took my hand, the one he hadn't bitten. "I'm putting the car in the garage. I promise. I'm not leaving you. I'll come in the back way." For a second, I was lost in his lopsided grin.

"Okay." He wouldn't have heard me above the noise.

I stood in the doorway and kicked off my waterlogged shoes, suddenly bereft at him leaving. Leaving the door open a crack, I stuck my nose out while he reversed the car and drove around the side of the house. I locked the door and raced to a side window, following the car's progress, fearful he was taking off.

From there I pressed my face to the glass at the back of the house. The car and him with it disappeared into a garage, and the metal door slammed, leaving me alone.

Breathe in, breathe out. And again. Keep breathing .

Ranger was my captor. Was I developing Stockholm syndrome already? Surely a bond with a kidnapper didn't happen after a few hours. I couldn't allow myself to trust him. If not for this lousy weather, I could have escaped.

With my hands clenched at my side, I surveyed the main room, with the majestic high ceiling. The logs that formed the walls and roof were a warm shade of honey. Three sofas and two armchairs were situated around the room, and rugs in shades of dark red were scattered over the floor, adding more warmth. Photos lined the mantlepiece, and though there was no fire burning, the house was warm. The heat was definitely on.

The front and side windows gave what should have been stunning views of the river, but I turned away from the debris being tossed around in the water and down the slope.

A door opened, and my heart flipped. He was here. Or someone was. I sidled up to the fireplace and picked up a hunk of wood. It wouldn't save my life if Dane or his henchmen had found me, but I might get some satisfaction by tossing it at their heads before they grabbed me.

"Matt?" That velvety voice entwined around my heart.

"Yeah."

Ranger squelched into the house. "The heat is on, so the house should warm up soon."

"How'd you do that?"

"The heat? An app while we were driving."

He was standing in a puddle, hair stuck to his scalp, water dripping off his chin. One advantage of being wet was his jeans, clinging to his crotch. Checking out a mafia guy's goods hadn't been on my bingo card but being threatened with torture and death or torture and dismemberment hadn't been either.

"You're wet." That line was familiar, but my confused memory couldn't place it.

Ranger's face crumpled, and I thought he was going to cry, but his mouth creased into a wide smile. "You think?" He yanked off his hoodie, revealing an equally soggy shirt, and I inspected his hard nipples poking through the wet fabric. Nice. Next, he whipped off the shirt, and I couldn't look away. The dips and planes on his chest were designed to be stroked and the nipples tweaked.

Despite my fucked-up situation, slick streamed from my hole. Thank gods only I could detect the pungent aroma. But Ranger sniffed and smirked. What the fuckity fuck? No way could he smell my slick. What about my smelly socks? Maybe that was what he was reacting to.

"Come upstairs. You can shower, and I'll get you dry clothes." He glanced at his sodden jeans and held up a finger. "One minute." He disappeared behind a door, and when he returned, the jeans were gone and he'd wrapped a fluffy white towel around his hips.

Why'd he do that? He was taunting me with his perfectly sculpted body.

"My dad would kill me if I trailed water upstairs."

His dad, Rudy. Right. I'd forgotten about him. He'd seemed none too pleased when Ranger and I met.

We walked up the stairs, me dripping water, but I didn't offer to disrobe. Ranger led me into a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. He pulled out clothes from the closet, saying I was similar in size to his dad.

"Towels and toiletries are in the bathroom. I'll shower and rustle up some food, so come down when you're ready."

He closed the door, and I stood unmoving in the middle of the room. I longed for a shower and dry clothes, but what I craved was for my simple life before I'd gone undercover.

Not knowing how long I stayed where I was, I stared at the rain splattering and hitting the window. I thought of Josh and hoped his friend's place was on high ground. I should call him.

I pulled the phone from my pocket, but as I did, I was filled with despair because this was the device I used when undercover. My real phone was at home, and I couldn't use this one to call my brother.

Bouncing the device in my palm, not the one Ranger had bitten, the phone flipped over. Dane's name stood out under missed calls. My heart constricted, and I fell to the floor and curled up in a ball. As I lay on the rug, the phone beeped. A message. I wasn't looking at it. I couldn't. Maybe I should leave and hide in the woods. Of course there was a downside and I'd probably drown.

But I couldn't resist and studied the words on the display.

You can't hide. I will find you .

I dropped the phone as though I'd been burned.

Shit, could he trace my call or my location? Nope, that was illegal. I yanked at my hair. He was mafia. Illegal was what he did.

I hauled myself up and yelled for Ranger, running along the corridor shouting his name. There was another floor above this one, maybe he was up there, but I opened each door along the hallway. They were empty except for the last one. The white towel that had been draped around his hips was on the floor.

Without thinking I tore into the next room… a bathroom… as Ranger was stepping out of the shower.

He was very naked.

And what was that pointing at me?