I'm not gonna figure it out tonight, so I double-check the door is locked, then kick off my boots and head back to the bedroom. Sloane is stretched out across both sides of the bed, drooling on my fucking pillow and snoring like a freight train. But when I shrug off my jeans and shirt and slide into bed with an extra blanket, her body wraps around mine and her hand finds my dick.
Great, just what I need, a nearly passed out drunk trying to fuck me all night long.
"Sloane," I grumble, readjusting her so I can get some rest, and thankfully, she lays her head on my chest and settles. For now.
If Domingo's son is coming for me, no one in this town is safe, including the woman in my arms. And as infuriating as she issometimes, I don't think I'm prepared to let him hurt her. Even more so now that she's shown me her true heart's desire.
Nothing may ever come of this, but one thing is certain. I haven't forgotten who I am at my core. And in my heart of hearts, I know I have to protect Sloane Grady, and I have to protect Sutter's Gap.
Because it's the right thing to do.
10
SLOANE
Isit in a booth near the window in the diner, watching frost creep across the glass in delicate patterns. My eggs have gone cold, but I push them around my plate, pretending I have an appetite.
It's mid-November, a few weeks since I let myself cross that line with Dane. The whiskey made everything seem so much more exciting and it was a moment of weakness, a one-time lapse in judgment brought on by alcohol and adrenaline and the fact that he's unfairly attractive for a man who lives in the middle of nowhere and barely speaks.
But it wasn't the alcohol entirely, and I know that.
I've been trying to pretend it didn't happen, that I don't replay it in my mind when I lie awake at night on his bed, though he sleeps on the couch now. He's made it easier by disappearing into that barn of his for hours at a time, and I tell myself that he regrets it. That he's avoiding me because sleeping with me was a mistake he'd rather forget.
The age gap alone screams "bad idea", and fuck if I can't stop noticing anyway. He's forty, and I'm twenty-eight, and there's no universe where this makes sense. I don't date older men. I don't date men who've killed people for a living. I don't date men who lock me in cabins either, but he's so fucking irresistible that even if I weren't drunk, I'd fuck him again in a heartbeat if he asked me.
"More coffee, hon?" Ellie appears at my elbow, pot in hand, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. I've been coming here every few days when Dane makes his trips into town, and she's been nothing but warm and friendly with me. Probably because I'm the one who finally convinced "Mr. Strouse" to participate in town events after so long hiding like a hermit on that mountain.
"Please," I say, pushing my cup toward her.
She pours, then lingers, leaning against the booth with a grin. "So, Sarah. You survived the Halloween party…" She lifts an eyebrow at me like she knows something I don't, and I feel a little tense. I was pretty drunk that night, and Dane was right. I honestly was too drunk to consent, but I don't regret it. What I do regret is not remembering everything from the party itself.
Did I do something that might've ruined my cover story Dane spun up for me?
"Barely," I say. "That cider was dangerous."
"Travis Boone makes it every year. Swears it's a secret recipe, but I'm pretty sure it's just bourbon and apple juice." She laughs a little too loudly, but no one pays any attention to her. "You looked great, though. I'm glad you came. People don't usually warm up to newcomers that fast, but you've got a way about you."
"Thanks." I take a sip of coffee, letting the heat spread through my chest. "It was fun. I needed it."
Ellie tilts her head, studying me. "You doing okay? You seem a little… I don't know. Tired."
I am tired. Exhausted, actually. The constant tension coiled in my gut is wearing on me. Every day I wake up in that cabin, I wonder if today's the day another package arrives or if today's the day whoever's behind this decides to escalate.
Dane won't tell me what he's planning. He just broods and vanishes into the barn and comes back with his jaw tight and his eyes distant. He barely speaks to me now, won't have dinner at the table with me—eats that in the barn too—and he's gone for long stretches at a time, which he says is normal for him. Hunting and all that.
"I'm fine," I lie. "Just adjusting to small-town life."
She nods, though I'm not sure she believes me. "Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
"Actually," I say before I can talk myself out of it, "can I borrow your phone? Mine's been acting up, and I need to call a friend back home."
Ellie doesn't hesitate. She pulls her cell from her apron pocket and hands it over. "Take your time. I've got to check on the grill, anyway."
I watch her disappear into the kitchen, then slide out of the booth and make my way to the back corner, where the bathrooms are. There's a small alcove here, tucked away from the main dining area. Private enough for me to lean against a wall and think of what to say when the call connects.
My hands tremble as I dial Erin's number. My best friend won't be expecting this, but I have to hear a familiar voice or I'm going to go crazy. She picks up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
