Ignore. Remember he’s a jerk. He’s not hot.
CHAPTER 8
A few minutes later, the turn signal on the truck clicks as he exits the highway. The lights from the freeway fade behind us as we drive deeper into an area dark with trees rising on either side of the road.
The place feels ominous and the idea of staying in any house with Diesel, sets me on edge. Especially a house with lots of locks.
The place looks like a deserted cabin in a small clearing with nothing around for miles.
Diesel stretches his wrists, pops his knuckles and leans back in the seat. “Finally.”
Yes. Thank the angels. I can’t take being caged in with him a second longer.
“Stay here. Lock the doors. There’s a pistol in the glove box. Use it if you have to.”
He’s out of the truck, already scanning the tree line like threats might materialize from the darkness.
A shiver runs down my arms. The trees sway, their inky shadows moving against the night sky. The hair on the back of my neck crawls.
Diesel circles the house. Goes inside and strides back toward me, the shape of his massive body looking even bigger in the night.
He’s all shadows and scowls when he returns to my side of the truck.
“Clear.” He grabs my saddle from the back. “Come on.”
We walk up the sidewalk, him hulking beside me as we approach a small cabin.
This place won’t win any awards for looking inviting. The windows are covered by security shutters. Solar panels coat the roof.The door looks strange. When he said safe house, he wasn’t kidding.
To the side of the entrance, there’s a keypad, security panel, a palm scanner, and some kind of lens.Not to mention cameras in both eaves on the front of the house.
Who knows how many others are trained on us right now.
“You own this place?”
His reply is tight as he guides me inside. “No. But I can’t say who does.”
“Why didn’t I suspect that kind of answer?”
Automatic lights illuminate as I step inside.
“Home sweet home, for tonight.”
“More like a nightmare,” I counter. “I understand what you’re doing, but the reality is, I can’t stay here beyond tonight. I have a horse to take care of, a ranch, a life. My things are at my house. Tomorrow we have to go there, you can add a security system or whatever you need so I’ll be safe there alone.”
His head swivels my direction when I say the last word.
One of his brows lifts. “Yeah, there will be a new alarm.There will also be a two-hundred-fifty pound human guard dog too. But that won’t be at your house until this is over.”
I consider arguing, but the way he’s chewing that gum, the locked position of his shoulders, and the way he studies my expression with a proverbial microscope tells me this is an argument he’s already geared up to win.
So, I huff. “Where’s my room?”
“Back there.”
“Where are you staying?”
Please god, he cannot stay in my room. I can’t take it.
