I point at the deer blind I can see a couple of hundreds of feet away. “That yours?”
He shrugs. “This used to be a popular hunting place until it kind of dropped off the face of the earth. You’ll find a lot of these around. Not mine, though.”
I nod.
“You like venison?” the hunter asks as we heave the deer up. “I’d be happy to bring some by next time I pass through.”
I shake my head. “Appreciate it, but we’re good.”
He nods, tipping his hat. “Take care, then.”
By the time I get back to the cabin, the weight in my gut hasn’t settled. The hunter’s story checks out, but the timing is too damn convenient. I’ll need to go over the perimeter again, maybe set up extra sensors near the tree line.
I push through the back door, toeing off my boots when I hear Mia’s sharp intake of breath.
“What happened?” Her eyes are on my shirt—smeared with streaks of dark red, staining the fabric across my torso.
“Nothing,” I say, already moving toward the sink.
“Obviously, something did.”
“It’s not my blood.”
“That doesn’t make it better, Asher.”
I turn on the faucet, rinsing my hands as the water runs red. “I’ll discuss it with Damon,” I say tersely. “Otherwise, it’s handled.”
Mia presses her lips together, her arms folding across her chest. “Sure. You do that.”
Her voice is colder than I expect, and she doesn’t wait for an explanation. Just turns and strides out of the kitchen, her steps firm but stiff, like she’s holding back words she wants to say.
Damon walks in a second later, his sharp gaze flicking over my shirt. “That yours?” He gestured to the blood.
“No.”
His jaw tightens. “Jason’s?”
“No.” I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “Some hunter wandered onto the property, claimed he was tracking a deer. I made sure he wasn’t a threat.”
Damon watches me carefully. He knows there’s more.
Mia’s footsteps fade upstairs, and I glance at the doorway she disappeared through.
“She’s pissed at you,” Damon remarks, not bothering to hide his amusement.
I grab a clean rag and wipe my hands. “Yeah, no shit.”
Damon leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You gonna tell me why, or do I have to guess?”
I toss the rag aside. “She doesn’t like being left out.”
His lips quirk up, but his eyes stay sharp. “And you keep shutting her out.”
“I keep her safe.” I press my palms against the sink, exhaling through my nose. “That’s the job.”
Damon scoffs. “The job.” He studies me, his gaze unreadable. “That why you’re running off to Dubai in a few days?”
I go still. “Who told you?”
