Chapter 10

CHAPTERTEN

“I’ll meet you there.”

Brock frowned as he stood in a bay at Old Town Auto talking to Finley on the phone. It had been just five days since Lilly and Ethan’s wedding, and they’d both been crazy busy. Once word got out that Finley had made Lilly’s cake, The Sweet Tooth was suddenly slammed with requests for cakes, cupcakes, cookies, and anything else Finley was willing to make for birthday parties, anniversary celebrations…even more upcoming weddings. It seemed that everyone in Fallport wanted Finley to cater their event.

While Brock was thrilled for her, it meant she was working longer hours and they had less time to spend together. By the time she left the bakery in the evenings, she was exhausted. It had been two days since they’d made love, which wasn’t what bothered Brock. He loved holding her while she slept. He wasn’t with her because of the sex, even though that was out of this world; he genuinely enjoyed simply being near her.

But he didn’t like her working herself into the ground. Davis had been stopping by after the bakery closed in the afternoons to help her prep for the next day and to assist in some of the catering orders, but it wasn’t enough. Something had to give.

He’d talked to her that morning about not overdoing things. About taking some time for herself. For them. She hadn’t hesitated to agree, much to Brock’s relief. The last thing he wanted was for her to burn out. She hated to disappoint anyone but accepting every single job someone asked her to do wasn’t going to be sustainable in the long run.

They’d planned to try the hiking thing again this afternoon. The weather in the first week of November was perfect for a walk. Cold, but not frigid. The real winter weather wouldn’t kick in until December, most likely, and Brock wanted to enjoy the forest while he still could.

There were still just as many tourists coming to Fallport to try to find Bigfoot for themselves as there’d been right after the show aired. Which was great for local businesses, but it meant Brock and his friends were busier than usual as well. They continued to be called out for lost hikers, most thankfully being found within a few hours. Brock was looking forward to a leisurely hike with Finley. Nothing too strenuous, as he was well aware that she could be pregnant.

Her period was late, which she said wasn’t actually too unusual, especially since she was more stressed than normal. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted her to be pregnant. But she’d said she didn’t want to jinx anything by taking a pregnancy test, that she wanted to wait. Brock didn’t really understand that decision, but he’d decided he was going to treat her as if she was carrying his child already. She’d get pregnant sooner or later, so it wouldn’t hurt to be careful now.

But at the moment, she was telling him that she was running late and it would be better if she met him at the Rock Creek Trail.

“It just makes sense,” she was saying. “I need to go out in that direction and meet with a woman about what she wants for the cake I’m making for her parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

“Why can’t she come to the bakery to meet with you like everyone else?” Brock asked.

“Because she doesn’t get off work until three, which is when I close the shop. And then her son gets off the bus at three-thirty and she has to be there. It’s not a big deal. I’ll just go out there, talk to her about what she wants, then I can meet you at the trailhead.”

Brock sighed. He would’ve volunteered to drive her to her appointment, but he was neck deep in the guts of a car someone had brought in and he didn’t want to leave it like that. It was better to get as much done as possible. “All right. That’ll work.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I know I’ve been super busy, but things are already slowing down.”

“Because you’ve already made stuff for half the town,” Brock grumbled. He wasn’t sure why he was so grumpy.

“Not quite,” Finley said with a laugh. “But I think the novelty will wear off quickly. I’m thankful for the business, but I’m not sure being that busy is something I really aspire to. And it’s not anything I can sustain, as you pointed out this morning. I’d rather make less money and have more free time than be slammed every day and make bank.”

Brock was perfectly all right with that line of thinking. Anything Finley wanted, he’d be more than able to provide. Though he also knew how important it was for her to have her own money, to be successful.

“So, what time do you think you can be there? Remember, it’s getting dark earlier and earlier.”

“Three forty-five? That should be enough time, I think.”

Thirty minutes past the original time he’d planned to pick her up. Brock would have to live with that. “Okay.”

“I’ll let you know if I’m running late,” she said.

“The cell service is spotty out that way,” he warned.

“Right. I’ll text before I leave my client’s house then.”

“Sounds good. Be safe,” Brock said.

“I will. You too.”

“See you later.”

“Bye.”

Brock hung up and turned back to the vehicle he’d been working on before Finley had called. They wouldn’t be able to hike as long as he’d hoped, but the fresh air would be nice regardless. Especially since he wouldn’t be on the job. He truly loved being out in the woods, but it was hard to appreciate it when he was looking for a lost person.

“Hey, Brock, can you come look at this real quick?” Jesus asked from under the hood of the car in the next bay.

Doing his best to put his worry for Finley out of his mind so he could get some work done, Brock headed for his friend.

* * *

Adrenaline coursed through Pete’s veins. Finally! It was totally unnatural that the bitch was never alone. He’d been following her for a week straight and she was never by herself. It was infuriating and frustrating. And The Boss was getting more and more pissed. The supplier refused to come to Fallport until he knew the baker wasn’t an issue, so The Boss had to keep driving to Roanoke. Certain people were beginning to question all the trips to the city, and The Boss was fucking livid.

But finally, the baker was alone. She’d driven out to some house and met with a woman, and was now on her way back to town.

“Ram her,” Cory insisted as they followed her down the two-lane road that led back to Fallport.

“I’m gonna. Shut up already!” Pete bitched. “I need to find the best place to do it. Somewhere she can pull off and we won’t be seen while we find out what she knows.” The shoulders on both sides of the road were deep, and he had to hit her hard enough so she’d stop, but not so hard that she’d lose control of her vehicle. The last thing they needed was the cops showing up because of a big accident.

Just when Pete was about to make his move, her brake lights came on and she slowed down.

“What’s she doing?” Cory asked.

“How the fuck do I know?” Pete retorted.

“Fuck, she’s pulling into that trailhead parking lot,” Cory said. “Go in after her.”

“What? No! There are always a ton of people around there.”

“Look, we don’t have a choice. The Boss expects us to get answers and she’s by herself. We have to do it now.”

“Fuck,” Pete muttered but obediently pulled into the parking lot.

“Is she meeting someone?” Cory asked.

Looking around, Pete didn’t see anyone who seemed to be waiting for her. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“Good. We’ll follow her into the woods a bit, then grab her. Take her off the trail so if anyone comes by, they don’t see us.” Cory smirked. “We might have to convince her to talk, if you know what I mean.” He grabbed his crotch with a grin.

Pete nodded. “Yeah, man. We deserve that shit. She’s led us on a chase for too goddamn long.”

“Although she’s pretty fuckin’ fat. Not sure I can get it up,” Cory muttered as he turned to open his door.

“Pussy is pussy,” Pete said with a shrug. “Besides, that guy she’s with doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Must have a magic pussy,” Cory agreed. “Come on, I’m actually kind of excited about this now. We’ll get off, make sure the bitch knows if she tells anyone about what happened, she’ll fucking regret it, find out what she saw in that alley, then get the hell out of here. The Boss’ll be happy, we’ll be happy once we’re paid, and things will go back to normal.”

Pete held up a hand, and Cory high-fived him as they tried to look nonchalant while following the bakery bitch toward the trail.

* * *

Brock had gotten to the trailhead a bit early, only to find a woman in the parking lot looking extremely stressed. Not able to ignore her, he asked what was wrong. She told him that she’d gone hiking with her parents, and her mom had sprained her ankle on the trail. Her dad was helping her back to the trailhead, but she’d hoped to call for an ambulance to meet them. She couldn’t get her cell phone to work.

Brock had informed her that it wasn’t unusual, and he offered to head up the trail to meet the couple. The woman had been thankful, and he’d set off. The couple was supposed to be less than half a mile from the parking area, and thankfully, Brock ran into them relatively quickly. Finley wouldn’t mind him helping someone, of course, but this was supposed to be their time to decompress.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that the woman was actually moving quite well. She was limping a little, but she said that after a while, her ankle had actually felt a bit better.

Brock walked with them and learned they were from South Carolina and, like everyone else, had come to Fallport because of the paranormal show, but not to search for Bigfoot. They just thought the town had seemed so charming.

As he neared the parking area, Brock saw Finley walking down the trail toward them. He smiled widely at her.

“That your young lady?” the older man asked.

“Sure is,” Brock said.

“She’s pretty. Take care of her.”

“She is. And I plan to. Doc Snow should still be in his office when you get back to town. He’ll take a look at that ankle and make sure nothing’s terribly wrong.”

“Thank you for coming to help us,” the woman said.

“Of course.”

Brock said goodbye to the couple and waited for Finley to catch up to him on the trail. He took the time to soak in the sight of her. She’d changed since he’d seen her that morning. She had on a pair of hiking boots, long cargo pants, and a long-sleeve T-shirt. She also had a sweatshirt tied around her waist. He approved wholeheartedly. Wearing layers was important this time of year because while it wasn’t terribly chilly at the moment, when the sun went down, it would get colder. And while he didn’t plan on them being out that late, being prepared in the woods was imperative.

He had a backpack with water, snacks, and a small first aid kit. He didn’t expect anything to happen, but with his and Finley’s history with “dates,” he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Hey,” she said as she approached.

“Hi,” he returned warmly. When she got close enough, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. He inhaled deeply. “Nutmeg,” he said as he buried his nose in the space between her neck and shoulder.

She giggled. “You’re good at that.”

“You always smell good enough to eat,” he said with a leer.

Finley rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “You’re bad.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” she said in a serious tone.

Brock’s heart began to beat faster. They hadn’t said the words, but he felt her love every time he was around her, just as he hoped she felt his. He immediately wanted to steer her back down to the parking lot and take her home, but they both needed this break in their routine. A nice easy walk would do them good.

Thenhe could bring her home and take her to bed.

He turned and headed back the way he’d come a moment earlier with the couple. They made small talk as he told Finley about the woman’s ankle and how he was pretty sure it was just a light sprain.

He’d just opened his mouth to ask her how the meeting with the potential customer went when Finley let out a surprised oof.

Acting instinctively, Brock moved to catch her, assuming she’d tripped over a tree root or something—but she hadn’t lost her footing.

Someone had grabbed her from behind, and she’d made the noise when she’d stumbled backward, landing against the man.

Brock’s eyes widened when he saw two men, probably in their early twenties and looking very nervous, standing in the middle of the trail. The one with black hair had an arm around Finley’s chest, holding her against him…and the other hand held a sharp-looking knife against her throat.

Brock froze.

“Don’t fucking move,” the guy with the knife barked.

Brock had no intention of moving. He could’ve taken both these punks down, easily. But the tip of that knife was way too close to Finley’s jugular. His mind immediately spun with different scenarios on how to get her away from that asshole without her being hurt in the process.

“What do you want?” Brock growled, his hands clenching into fists.

Instead of answering, the guy holding Finley said, “Empty their pockets. Take his backpack.”

They weren’t too far from the trailhead, but of course when Brock was desperate to spot one of the tourists who always seemed to be around, they were nowhere to be found.

“You heard him, give me your phone, wallet, and take off that backpack,” the brown-haired asshole growled.

When Brock hesitated, the black-haired man tightened his hold around Finley, and Brock saw a drop of blood slowly began to roll down her neck. She didn’t scream. Didn’t cry out. She simply kept her gaze on Brock.

He saw trust there. Complete confidence that he would get them out of this.

Not giving a shit if these guys robbed him—nothing was more important than Finley—Brock did as he was ordered. He shrugged out of his pack and dropped it on the dirt at his feet. He threw his wallet down on top and pulled the satellite phone out of a pocket along his thigh.

“Shit, man, that thing looks like it came from the nineties,” the brown-haired man said with a laugh.

“Right? I think my old man had one of those car phones back in the day,” the other guy scoffed.

What a couple of idiots. They obviously had no idea the satellite phone was the only way to communicate in this part of the woods.

“Now hers,” black-haired guy said.

It took everything within Brock not to fucking kill the asshole who took great delight in sticking his hand into Finley’s pockets. He was sure he copped a feel while he was there, but again, Finley didn’t protest, didn’t do anything but stand completely still as he took out her cell phone.

“Right. Now let’s go,” the man holding Finley said.

“You’ve got our shit, let her go,” Brock ordered, furious when the man turned Finley and started walking with her in front of him…off the trail.

“We ain’t done with her yet.”

The words sent ice shooting through Brock’s veins. No way in hell was he going to stand by while these assholes raped his woman. Thoughts of her sparkling eyes that morning when she’d teased him in the shower sprang to his mind. The noises she made when he went down on her. How hard she gripped his biceps when she came.

No, these two weren’t going to fucking touch his woman. Weren’t going to do a damn thing to change how uninhibited she was, in bed and out.

“If you do anything, I’ll shove this knife into her fucking throat,” the man told Brock, obviously sensing his rising anger.

“Don’t hurt her,” Brock said between clenched teeth.

“I won’t…as long as you both do exactly as I say.”

“Someone’s coming,” the brown-haired guy warned.

“Go,” Black Hair said, gesturing in front of him. “Don’t want you behind me. Start walking. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Frustrated beyond belief, but deciding for the moment he was better off doing as ordered, Brock stepped off the trail and began bushwhacking in the direction the guy indicated. He bent tree branches out of his way and shuffled his feet, leaving clues for his team. He had no idea what these two fuckers had planned, but eventually someone would come looking for him and Finley, and he was leaving a trail a five-year-old could follow.

“It’s getting dark,” Brown Hair Guy said. “The clouds have moved in. It’s probably gonna rain.”

“I know, shut the fuck up, Cory.”

Cory. Brock noted the name.

“We need to just question her and get the hell out of here,” Cory insisted, his voice almost a whine.

Brock had thought this was a typical robbery, but it was clear the two men had a different agenda. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, what they could possibly want to question Finley about.

“Please, I don’t know what you—”

“Shut up, bitch!” the guy holding her seethed.

Brock turned to see him punctuate his words with the press of the fucking blade against Finley’s throat, and he was nearly blinded with fury. It took every bit of discipline he’d learned as a customs officer to not jump the man right that second.

“I don’t want to hear you fucking whining. When I want you to talk, you’ll know it. Understand?”

Brock could barely hear her whispered, “Yes,” but apparently it was enough for the man holding her hostage.

“Good. Now keep walking.”

Brock did as he ordered, his frustration rising with every step.

“Pete, it’s really getting dark. We’ve been walking forever, man. I think this is good.”

The guy holding Finley, the man obviously in charge, was Pete.

Brock’s lips pressed together. They were going down. He’d fucking kill them both if he had to, and have no remorse doing so. But at the moment, he couldn’t do a damn thing with that knife at Finley’s throat, and Pete knew it.

Since they weren’t on a trail, walking was rough going on the uneven, debris-filled ground, and the asshole wasn’t even trying not to hurt her. There were a few nicks and shallow cuts on Finley’s neck now, the small trickles of blood looking obscene against her white skin. The Pete guy never moved the blade off of her neck. He clearly wasn’t an idiot, well aware that if he gave Brock even a small opening, he was a dead man.

“God, you’re such a fucking pussy,” Pete seethed in response to Cory’s complaint. “Fine. Stop walking, asshole, and go over there to that tree,” he ordered Brock, motioning to a large tree about twenty meters away.

“No,” Brock said, not willing to be that far away from Finley.

“No?” Pete echoed, pressing the blade harder against her neck. She went up on her tiptoes to try to get away from the pressure of the knife, but it was no use. Her back was plastered against Pete’s and his arm was a tight band around her chest, holding her secure.

Brock held up his hands in capitulation. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. “Fine! I’m going. Stop fucking hurting her!”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do with her,” Pete growled.

Brock slowly backed toward the tree, each step making him more and more nauseous. He was too far away. If Pete decided to actually use that knife, there wasn’t a damn thing Brock could do to stop it.

Cory laughed. “He’s the fucking pussy,” he taunted Brock. “Goddamn grease monkey, good for nothing but tinkering with cars. Pathetic.”

Brock didn’t give a shit what these men thought about him. He’d much rather their attention be on him than Finley.

“Keep your eye on him,” Pete warned his friend.

Brock noticed for the first time that Cory also held a knife, but he wasn’t scared of the weapon or the man. He could easily wrestle the thing out of his grip, or even slam a hand down on his wrist, making him drop it, hopefully breaking a bone or two. But while he was busy doing that, Pete would have a chance to hurt Finley.

His body practically vibrated with impatience as he stood there, waiting for an opening. A distraction. All he needed was a split-second diversion, and he’d be able to cross the space between him and Finley and get her away from that fucking blade.

“Now,” Pete said with a note of anticipation in his tone. “You, bitch. You’re going to tell us what we want to know or you’ll fuckin’ regret it. I’ll start with taking a pinky finger. Then maybe your thumb. Then I’ll carve up your face an inch at a time.”

“What do you w-want?” she asked. Brock could tell she was trying to sound brave, but the small stutter let him know she wasn’t as calm as she was desperately trying to be.

“Fuck, she’s fat,” Cory said from where he was standing not far from Brock. “We could fuck the answers out of her like we talked about, but who wants to see that body naked? Gross.”

Brock saw red. He actually took a step toward Cory, but Pete’s words stopped him.

“Don’t be a hero,” he warned.

Brock froze once more, glaring at the man threatening his woman.

“Good boy,” he mocked, turning back to Finley. He dropped his arm from around her chest and turned her, grabbing for her left hand as he did. He held the knife at the base of her pinky and said, “You ready to talk?”

Brock sized up the situation. The knife wasn’t at Finley’s throat anymore, which gave him more options. He had no doubt Pete would do as he threatened and cut off her pinky, but losing a finger was better than having the blade sink into her jugular vein. The thought made him want to puke, but he took a deep breath as he prepared to move.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, lifting her chin bravely.

Brock was so fucking proud of her, despite being pissed they were in this situation in the first place.

“I need to know exactly what you saw when—”

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Brock’s attention.

To his utter astonishment, a woman ran out of the trees toward Pete and Finley.

She was dressed in what looked like a knee-length brown dress that blended into their surroundings perfectly. It was torn in places, and absolutely filthy. She was barefoot, and her auburn hair was long, down to her butt. It flowed slightly behind her as she ran.

He couldn’t tell how old she was in the split second before Brock himself was moving.

The mystery woman ran past Pete, quiet and quick on her feet. As she did, she threw a handful of what Brock assumed was dirt right into his face. Since he’d been talking, the dirt went straight into his mouth and eyes, and he immediately dropped Finley’s hand, frantically brushing at his face as he sputtered and choked.

It was exactly the opening Brock needed.

Crossing the space between them in seconds, he grabbed Finley around the waist and spun her away from Pete and that damn knife. He desperately wanted to pound the man into the ground and find out exactly what the hell was going on, but it was more important to get Finley to safety.

“Run!” he ordered, pushing her toward the trees. But he needn’t have bothered. She was already moving.

“Fuck!” Brock heard Cory shout. “Come back here!”

He had no intention of going back.

Pete was still coughing and swearing. The woman who’d thrown the dirt had excellent aim. She’d never stopped moving either. The last Brock saw of her, she was disappearing back into the trees as if she hadn’t been there at all.

Brock cursed the lack of leaves on the trees around them, but was thankful for the clouds that had moved in, accelerating the darkness that was descending on the area. This late in the year, the second the sun sank below the horizon, it got dark in a hurry, especially in the forest.

He could hear Finley breathing hard, but she didn’t stop running. Brock listened as they ran, and he couldn’t hear their kidnappers following, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He couldn’t get the sight of that damn blade against her throat out of his mind.

Giving directions to Finley as they ran was difficult, it would be easier if he took the lead, but he wasn’t going to leave her vulnerable to either Pete or Cory rushing up behind them and taking her out.

He had no idea how long or far they’d run when he realized Finley was slowing. Her breaths were loud in the silence of the evening, and Brock knew she needed to take a break.

They’d just run down an incline, and there was a small stream directly in front of them. The sound of the water moving over the rocks would mask their voices and harsh breathing. He hadn’t been more than two feet from her the entire time, and now Brock reached out and took hold of her arm. “Stop, Fin.”

She did immediately, and something shifted inside Brock. She’d followed his every command as they’d run, trusting him to know where to go and how to get away from Pete and Cory. She hadn’t questioned him once. Hadn’t done anything during the entire incident that would put her, them, in more danger. He was so damn proud of her.

He spun her around and wrapped her in his arms. She not only went willingly, she practically threw herself at him, latching on as if she was never going to let go again.

Looking around, it was hard to see more than the shapes of the trees now. Brock tilted his head and heard nothing but the water running and Finley’s pants against his chest.

Satisfied for the moment that they could safely take a break, Brock walked them to his left, toward a large boulder that looked dark in the waning light. He crouched behind it, on the side facing the creek, so if anyone did come down the hill they’d just traversed, they wouldn’t immediately see them. Then he shifted to his ass and Finley adjusted herself so she was sitting on his lap, her knees straddling his hips.

Finley didn’t say a word, just clung to him tightly as she attempted to catch her breath. So much adrenaline was coursing through Brock’s veins that he was literally shaking.

“You’re okay. You’re good. I’m so proud of you. Fuck, Finley, you did so good.” He kept murmuring to her as he buried his nose into her hair and held her tightly.

It was several moments before her breathing and heartbeat finally slowed. Then she began to shake. Almost violently. Brock’s arms tightened around her, and he closed his eyes as emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Anger. Fear. Confusion. Relief.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he told her.

Finley nodded against his neck, and he felt her take a deep breath. Then another. Then she slowly pulled away from him and said softly, “I’m okay.”

“Fuck,” Brock said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Having Finley safe in his arms was almost overwhelming.

He felt her hands on either side of his head right before her lips landed on his. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, this wasn’t the time or place for that, but feeling her warmth, knowing she was doing her best to comfort him despite what she’d just gone through, went a long way toward Brock pulling his head out of his ass.

It was almost too dark to see much of anything by now, but he could still see the lines of blood on her neck. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers over her skin with a feather-light touch. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Brock wasn’t sure if she was lying or not, but the fact that she was downplaying her injuries made him both proud and furious at the same time.

“Who was that woman?” she asked after a moment.

Brock frowned. “I have no clue. Come on, we need to find a place to hunker down.”

“Hunker down?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“We aren’t going to go back to the trailhead?”

“No. I have no idea where those guys might be. The last thing I want is to run into them again. And I’m not going to risk your health, or mine, by walking around in the dark either.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he questioned.

“Uh-huh.”

“You aren’t going to complain about spending the night in the dark? In the cold? In the woods?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Brock, I’m not gonna lie, when that guy grabbed me, it scared the shit out of me. But knowing you were there, and you were going to get us out of whatever was happening, made everything not quite as frightening. If I was by myself? I would’ve been a mess. If I was out here in the woods alone? I’d be freaking out. But I’m not alone. You’re here, and you’re the most competent person I know when it comes to the forest. Am I thrilled? No. But lucky for you, I’ve got lots of natural insulation.”

Brock knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but he didn’t like it. “Don’t joke about that, Finley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry. All I’m trying to say is that I’m scared, I’m gonna be sore as hell tomorrow because running isn’t my jam at all. But you’re here, and I know you aren’t going to let anything happen to me. I’d rather be here in the middle of the woods, on the run from two men I’ve never met, than anywhere else by myself. So no, I’m not going to complain about spending the night in the dark, in the cold, here in the woods, because I’m with you.”

“I love you,” Brock blurted.

He felt Finley gasp. Then he heard a quiet sob.

“Don’t cry,” he ordered.

“I’m s-sorry. I just…I love you so much, and I don’t understand what happened or why, but I’m just so relieved you’re with me.”

Brock palmed the back of her head and drew her back down so she was resting against his chest once more. He closed his eyes as he attempted to relax his muscles.

“I’m thinking this dating thing really isn’t for us,” she said after a minute.

Brock frowned. They’d just said they loved each other, and now she was saying she didn’t want to date him? Then it hit him what she meant, and he snorted. “Told you.”

“You were right.”

Brock grinned. Fuck. How could he be smiling at a time like this? But he knew. It was because of the woman in his arms.

They sat there for several minutes before Brock stirred. “We need to move, sweetheart. I need to find us a place to lay low.”

“Do you know where we are?” she asked.

“I have a general idea, but until tomorrow when I can see clearly, I won’t know for sure. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because the second you don’t show up at your shop tomorrow morning, Davis is gonna raise the alarm. Simon will call Ethan, who will rouse the others. They’ll find our cars at the trailhead, and will quickly see the signs of where we went off the established trail. We’ll be back home in a warm shower by ten at the latest.”

“What if Davis doesn’t come tomorrow?” she asked.

Brock shrugged. “Then when Liam shows up and the shop’s empty and still locked, he’ll call Simon. And before you ask, I can definitely find my way back to the trail and our cars on my own, but it’s safer to just stay put and let the team come to us.”

“Because those guys might still be out there?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what they wanted me to tell them.”

“Shhh, let’s find a place to sleep, then we can talk,” Brock said. “Can you stand?”

“Of course,” she said a little huffily, and Brock was never so glad that his Finley was as strong as she was. He thought back to just weeks ago, when she couldn’t even meet his eyes when he came into her shop. The difference between that woman and the one in his lap right now was almost shocking. But then again, maybe it wasn’t. She’d simply gotten comfortable with him—finally—and gained more confidence the longer they were together.

Brock held onto her hand as she scooted backward and stood. When she swayed, he was right there with an arm around her waist. “Fin?”

“I’m okay,” she insisted. “My legs are just a little Jell-O-y after all that running. Fat girls don’t run, you know.”

He didn’t hear any self-deprecation in her tone, so he let that one go. “You did great, Fin. Seriously.” He untied the sweatshirt from around her waist, extremely grateful it hadn’t fallen off, and held it out to her. Once she’d pulled it over her head, he said, “Come on, follow me and watch where you step. Don’t let go of my hand either.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she mumbled.

The second they were up and moving, a light rain began to fall. It was cold, and being wet in the woods in November, without shelter, wasn’t a good combination. But again, Finley didn’t complain, she simply gripped his hand tighter and followed him without a word.

They’d walked along the small stream for about half a mile when Brock found what he suspected would be there. He’d told Finley he wasn’t positive where they were, but even in the dark, he’d had a good idea. And he was right. “We’re here,” he said quietly. He was fairly sure they were the only two people in this part of the forest, but he wasn’t going to take a chance that he was wrong and Pete and Cory were lurking around trying to find them.

“Where’s here?” she asked tiredly.

“There’s a massive flat rock to our left. The top juts out just far enough from the base for us to crawl under it and get out of the rain.”

“A cave?” she asked.

“Not exactly. But it’ll get us out of the elements, and I guarantee no one will see us in there if they happen to stumble by.”

“Okay.”

Brock led them over to what he and his team had dubbed Umbrella Rock and gestured for Finley to crawl under the low overhang.

She did so without a word of complaint.

He hated that they were both wet, but taking their clothes off wouldn’t actually help them stay warm right now.

Brock followed her under the overhang, reclined on his side with his back to the opening, and pulled Finley’s back against his front. He was between her and the world, and he couldn’t imagine ever being anywhere else.

“You’re so warm,” she said softly as she snuggled against him.

Brock took one of her hands in his as he held her close. As usual, her fingers were much colder than the rest of her. He pushed his other arm under her head so she was using him as a pillow. There wasn’t an inch of space between them now, and he prayed the warmth of his body would keep her from being too cold throughout the night.

After a couple minutes, he felt her sigh against him. “I have so many questions about what happened.”

Brock resisted the urge to snort. He had just as many. “I need you to think, Finley. What would those guys have wanted you to tell them? Has anything odd happened lately? Anyone come into the bakery who gave you or Liam bad vibes? Did you see something that maybe you shouldn’t have?”

At his last question, he felt her stiffen against him. Bingo.

“What? What did you see?”

“I didn’t think anything about it the first time. Khloe asked me to feed the stray kittens while she was gone. I went over every morning before I opened the bakery.”

Brock growled. He knew about her feeding the kittens, but he’d hated that she was in the back parking lot of the library so early, in the dark, even for just a few days. Once she’d started spending the night with him, he’d gone with her to feed the kittens until Khloe returned.

Finley turned her head and, even though it was dark, Brock could practically feel the daggers she was shooting his way. “I’m a grown woman, Brock. And this is Fallport. So yes, at four in the morning, I went over to feed those kittens by myself before you started accompanying me.”

“I just…fuck, Fin. I just worry about you.”

She heaved out a sigh and settled back against him. Brock rested his chin on top of her head.

“I know, and I appreciate it. It wasn’t a big deal. Anyway, I was sitting by the dumpster and playing with the kittens after they ate and a black pickup truck pulled up behind The Cellar. I wasn’t alarmed or anything, and I knew they couldn’t see me sitting on the ground, since it was so dark. Someone came around the corner of the building and leaned into the passenger-side window. They spoke for a moment, then the guy took a backpack and walked away. I honestly didn’t think too much about it. But then when I was there with the kittens a few days later, the same truck came back. Seeing it once didn’t register, but twice? It was weird.”

“And you didn’t tell me about it?”

“Brock, we weren’t together-together then, and honestly, even though it was weird, it wasn’t as if there was a shootout or huge bundles of cocaine being exchanged. The whole thing happened really fast. But…”

“But?” Brock asked when she paused.

“I felt weird enough about it that I did write down the license plate.”

Brock sighed against her. “Good girl. What’d you do with it?”

“Well, I still wasn’t convinced I was seeing monsters when there weren’t any. I wrote it down when I got back to the shop and put it in my recipe box.”

“We’ll take it to Simon as soon as we get back to town tomorrow,” Brock said firmly.

“Do you really think that’s what this was all about?” she asked.

“Can you think of anything else odd or weird that those two men might want to question you about?” he asked.

He liked that she didn’t immediately say no. That she took the time to really think about his question. Then she shook her head. “No.”

“Then yes, I’m guessing that was it. Probably a drug deal going down and whoever was in that truck wants to know what you saw or who you told about it. You saw the two people exchange something?”

“Yeah. But like I said, it was just a backpack. Not a huge crate with the word DRUGS stamped on the side. Do you really think that Pete guy would’ve cut off my fingers if I didn’t tell him what he wanted to know?”

Brock shuddered. “Yes.”

Finley whimpered, and Brock regretted being so blunt. “But you’re safe now,” he reassured her.

“Which brings us back to that woman. Who was she, Brock? I mean, she showed up in the middle of nowhere, looking like she’d been raised in the woods, threw that dirt at Pete and disappeared!”

“Bigfoot’s woman?” Brock joked.

“I’m serious,” Finley protested.

“Sorry. I know you are. And I have no idea who she was. But I’m thankful as hell she was there. I couldn’t do anything while that prick had a knife against your throat.”

“You could’ve taken him,” Finley said firmly.

“You’re right. But again, I wasn’t going to do a damn thing that would risk you being hurt or killed. You’re everything to me, Finley. I don’t give a damn how fast it’s been, I know how I feel,” he said almost defensively.

Her hand gripped his as she turned her head toward him once more. “I know. It’s so crazy, but I feel as if I’ve waited my whole life for you. You don’t see me like everyone else does.”

“Because they’re idiots. And their loss is my gain.”

She sighed in contentment against him. Then shivered.

“Damn, you’re cold,” Brock said, tightening his arms around her.

“I’m okay,” she told him immediately.

He snorted.

“Okay, I’m a little chilly, but overall I’m thankful to be alive, to have all my digits, and for that random forest woman who saved us. We have to find her,” she said softly.

“Won’t be easy if she doesn’t want to be found,” Brock said. “It looked as if she’s spent quite a bit of time in the woods.”

“She didn’t have any shoes on, Brock,” Finley said. “And it’s cold. She needs our help.”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Brock mused.

“She does,” Finley insisted. “I don’t know what happened to her or why she’s living in the woods, but it can’t be good. She’s obviously been out here a while. She’s probably scared. But she still did what she could to help me. Us.”

“You’re right. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I want to make sure she’s okay too,” Brock said.

After a few minutes had passed, Brock thought Finley might’ve fallen asleep, but then she whispered, “Do you think those guys are gone? That they aren’t looking for us?”

“I do. They were amateurs. Had no idea what they were doing in the woods. I’m guessing they realized their best course of action was to retreat.”

“But they didn’t get the answers they wanted.”

Brock pressed his lips together. “I know.”

“If I go to Simon and tell him what I saw and give him that license plate number, what I saw won’t be a secret anymore. So I shouldn’t be in any more danger…right?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Brock said. Her reasoning was sound. There should no longer be a reason for anyone to come after her to find out what she knows after she talked to Simon. Those guys would have bigger problems to deal with than Finley. But that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t be pissed and want revenge. If she had seen a drug deal in action, and the info she told the police disrupted the flow of drugs coming into Fallport, someone wouldn’t be happy.

“You’ll keep me safe,” she said without a shred of doubt.

Her trust in his abilities made Brock feel good, but it didn’t make the worry for her go away. “I will,” he said firmly.

* * *

“Shit. Damn! Fuck!” Pete bitched as they made their way back to the trailhead.

“Do you know where we are?” Cory asked.

“We’re in the fucking forest,” he said sarcastically.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” Cory bitched.

“At least you didn’t get dirt thrown in your fucking eyes,” Pete countered as he almost tripped over a tree root.

“Who the fuck was that, anyway? And where she’d come from?”

“No clue.”

“It was like she disappeared in a puff of smoke,” Cory went on. “One second she’s there, and the next she’s gone. Maybe it was a ghost.”

“It wasn’t a fucking ghost,” Pete said in disgust. “Ghosts can’t throw dirt.”

“How do you know?”

This was the most ridiculous conversation Pete had ever had, and he was fucking done with it. He pulled out his cell phone, knowing The Boss wasn’t going to be happy with what happened, but also knowing that if he didn’t call, he’d regret it later.

“Damn it,” he swore when he didn’t get a signal after he clicked it on.

“What?”

“Damn phone doesn’t work,” Pete said.

Cory pulled his own phone out and shrugged. “I don’t have any bars either.”

“Give me that asshole’s backpack,” Pete ordered.

Cory stopped and shrugged it off and handed it over. Pete put it on the ground and fumbled with the zipper before pulling out the comparatively huge cell phone the asshole had on him. “Maybe one of theirs will work,” he said as he clicked the monstrosity on.

When he heard a tone in his ear, he sighed. At least something was going right. He quickly dialed The Boss’s number and waited.

“You get the info?” The Boss asked as a greeting.

“There were complications,” Pete started.

He winced as The Boss let out a long litany of swear words. “What the fuck happened now?”

Pete explained how they’d finally gotten the bitch alone and had followed her into the woods. But then she’d met up with the fucking mechanic, and Pete had been pissed enough to grab her anyway. He explained that he was on the verge of getting the info he wanted when some crazy jungle bitch helped them get away.

“Did you go after her?” The Boss demanded.

“We tried, but I had dirt in my eyes and it was dark,” he complained.

“Fucking worthless,” The Boss seethed.

“We’ll get her next time,” Pete said.

“No, you won’t. You’re done. I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again. And if I get wind of you blabbing to anyone about what happened, you’ll fucking regret it. My suggestion is that you and your buddy get the fuck out of town and never come back,” The Boss said.

“But what about our payment? Our pills?”

“You’re not getting a damn dime, and no one’s gonna sell shit to you in this town again. Get the hell gone, asshole. You’re done.”

Pete scowled. He wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew he’d fucked up. And The Boss had already given him plenty of chances to get the job done. The smartest thing he could do was exactly as ordered. Leave town. The alternative was ending up like the other dealers who’d disappeared.

Being kicked out of Fallport was actually the best outcome he could hope for. And leaving wouldn’t exactly be a hardship. He hated this fucking place. He’d go somewhere he could get lost in the crowds, where he could score drugs without worrying about some asshole breathing down his back. “Fine.”

“Where are you right now?” The Boss asked.

“In the middle of the fucking woods,” Pete grumbled.

“How are you calling me?”

“The mechanic had a fucking ancient cell phone on him. It’s as big as my head. But the damn thing works when both mine and Cory’s didn’t.”

“Jesus, you’re such a fucking idiot. That mechanic is on the Eagle Point Search and Rescue team. That’s a satellite phone. And now you’ve compromised me. You don’t think the cops won’t check the phone records when they find out you took it from him, you fucking imbecile?”

Pete hated being talked down to, but he wasn’t willing to piss off The Boss any more than he already had. “I’ll get rid of it.”

“Yes, you will, but that’s not gonna change the fact that now I’ve got to cover my damn tracks and get rid of this burner I’ve been using, and the others I bought at the same time. If I ever see or hear from you again, you’re a goddamn dead man.”

“Sorry,” Pete said. “You won’t. I’m out of here.”

The phone went dead in his ear, and he sighed, feeling as if he’d narrowly escaped his own death by the skin of his teeth. “We have to get the fuck out of here,” he said.

“I know, we’re trying to find the trail,” Cory bitched.

“No, out of Fallport. Out of Virginia.”

“Man, I need a hit,” Cory whined.

“Give me that,” Pete growled, sick of Cory’s shit. He couldn’t wait to get away from him. Away from everything. He grabbed the backpack out of his accomplice’s hand and stuffed the satellite phone inside. Then he looked around, squinting in the dark, and walked over to a small tree. He got down on his knees and grabbed a nearby stick. “Don’t just stand there, come help me dig a hole. We gotta ditch this shit. Now.”

Cory obviously heard the urgency in Pete’s tone, and he didn’t complain as he got to his knees and helped dig.

Ten minutes later, a light rain started to fall. The backpack and all the stuff they’d taken from the bitch and the mechanic was now buried a foot under the ground. No one would find that shit, especially since it took them another fifteen minutes to finally find the trail.

Pete half expected the mechanic dude to jump out from behind a tree at any moment, but they made it back to the parking area, and Pete climbed behind the wheel of his car. He and Cory didn’t speak as they drove back to Fallport. When he pulled in front of Cory’s shithole apartment, Pete said, “Get out.”

Cory did, and without a word, Pete drove off. He had to make a quick stop at his own place, grab what he could, and then he was gone.

He thought about the fat bitch when the light rain changed to a steady downpour. “I hope you’re fucking miserable and you die of hyperthermia,” he muttered under his breath.