And love makes a man do foolish, ridiculous, stupid things.
When I get home, I need to send Sloane somewhere safe, maybe the US Marshalls and Witness Protection or maybe to some other remote mountaintop lodge. Somewhere Cal won't find her so I can end this entire thing.
But then she has to go back to New York where she belongs.
Because if one roach can crawl out from under a rock and find me, there are a million more who might.
And I won't let Sloane pay for my sins.
16
SLOANE
I'm wearing a path in the floorboards, back and forth across the main room, chewing my thumbnail down to nothing. The shotgun leans against the wall near the door and every sound outside makes me jump—wind through the trees, snow sliding off the roof, the cabin settling in the cold. I keep checking the window, searching the darkness for headlights, for movement, for anything that indicates the men in suits have found us.
When I finally hear the truck engine, my heart stops. I grab the shotgun and position myself where I can see the door, finger on the trigger, breathing too fast. Then I hear his key in the lock and relief floods through me so powerfully, my knees go weak.
"Dane!" I set down the gun and cross to him as he pushes through the door, snow-covered and scowling.
He barely looks at me before slamming the door and engaging all three locks. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I—what?"
"The snowmobile!" he spits, anger flashing in his eyes that are dark as sin. "I saw the tracks from the barn to town and back. I told you to stay here and keep your fucking head down and stay invisible. And you decided to go joyriding into town?"
"It wasn't joyriding. I needed?—"
"You needed to follow instructions." He shrugs off his jacket and throws it over a chair. "Do you have any idea what could've happened? If Cal's people were watching, if they followed you back here?—"
"They were in town!" The words burst out of me, and I'm desperate to make him understand. "I saw them, Dane. Three black SUVs, men in suits…"
He stops mid-rant, turning to face me fully. "What?"
"They're in Sutter's Gap. They're here, looking for us." My voice shakes. "Wade cornered me at the diner, asked me who I really was, said I looked too much like the woman on TV. And then these SUVs rolled up and I panicked and ran. But they saw me. They had to have seen me."
The fury drains from his face, replaced by dread and sudden alertness. He moves to the window and peeks out into the darkness, one hand on his gun which I see on his hip. "How long ago?"
"Hours. Maybe six? I came straight back, locked everything." I'm wringing my hands now, unable to stop. "If they're in town, it's only a matter of time before they find this place. Before they?—"
"I know." He turns from the window and sinks into the chair by the fireplace, both hands running through his hair. The gesture is so tired, so defeated, it breaks something in me.
I cross to him, kneeling beside the chair, putting my hand on his knee. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I just—I couldn't stand being alone anymore, and I thought it would be safe for an hour."
"Why are you sorry?" His hands are ice when he cups my cheeks and sighs heavily. "You didn't ask for any of this and I'm the one who should be sorry. This isn't your war, and you got dragged into it."
"I'm sorry because I made it worse." The confession claws its way out before I feel tears welling up. "I called Erin that day."
"Cal always knew how to find us, Sloane. He knew about Sutter's gap, just not how to get to my place, okay? You can't blame yourself." Dane's hands drop from my cheeks, clenching into fists. "But if he's in town, it means he's only days or even hours away from figuring it out. If he didn't follow you straight back, it's only a matter of time before people in this town gossip and tell him they saw you on a snowmobile… Then he follows the tracks…" Dane's head bobs, and I feel my gut tied up in knots of guilt and shame.
"I'm so sorry." Tears burn my eyes. "I didn't think. I just wanted coffee." The tears spill over my cheeks as I blubber on. "I'm sorry I'm not good at this and I don't know what I'm doing."
Dane pulls me up and onto his lap, and I straddle him on the chair and rest my head on his shoulder. All the apologies in the world won't undo my mistakes. The roads are traveled by cars all the time, no way to track an individual car. I had no idea I was going to run into those men and that they could follow a single snow mobile tread up from town to the cabin. I'd have gone somewhere else, or gotten home some other way…
"Hey, shh," he tells me, pushing me back and swiping some of my tears away. "I'll fix it. Okay? I'll make sure it's right."
"You can't. There were so many men, Dane. There’s just one of you."
The creases in his forehead deepen and he says, "Never underestimate the strength of a man fighting for something he wants." He pulls me down again and I press my lips to his gently. This is so unlike him.
