It’s also been two months since Alena rescued Sasha, and we haven’t heard a peep from the Feds. Alena told me about an odd man in the convenience store. How she called the Feds about him, so I told Wilder and Remi, who have a cabin up the road, to keep an eye out.
Like Alena, I have a bad feeling about that man, though for more reasons.
Was he involved in Sasha’s trafficking, or a Bratva soldier? Has my father finally found us? Or was he one of our local enemies?
All I know is that it’s been quiet.
Too damn quiet.
Guess whoever was running victims through here knows this location is burned. We’re watching. And in a mountainous national park of eight hundred square miles, you need every pair of eyes you can trust.
“Come by tomorrow,” Sue offers, “and take our catch from today and make that lady of yours another delicious dinner.”
“Can’t.” I adjust the brim of my hat as dawn crests over the ridge. “Going home tomorrow.”
“Where’s that?” Sue asks politely, but it’s not an innocent question.
My home, my origin, my family. A retired cop can’t know about it.
“Edisto Island,” I answer, close to the truth and keeping my story consistent. They chat with Alena too.
Sue nods. “That’s some damn good bass fishing down there. We’ll have to visit you one day.”
The Southerner in me wants to agree and bake them some biscuits. The Bratva in me cocks a brow, wondering if a good cop can smell my criminal DNA from a mile away.
“It’s a date. Maybe this fall.” I raise my hand, turning toward my SUV. “See ya next weekend.”
“You too,” she calls out while I give one last glance at the RVs in the campground, noting that none look like the one I know Sasha escaped from, the one Carter was in.
I have no proof, just a burning instinct because my brothers can’t find Carter either. He’s in the wind.
It adds to the nerves, bristling the hairs on my neck as I spend my day, like a bloodhound, checking the popular campgrounds.
Alena’s with a group of summer camp kids, all smiles, I’m sure, as she teaches them about soil percolation and forest sustainability, no doubt with dirt on her cute nose.
It’s still there when I meet her outside our cabins at the end of our shift.
I let Mutt out, watching him dash through the woods while she grabs her gear from her truck.
“How’d it go today?” I ask, beaming at the smudge on her face.
“Fun.” She takes off her hat, grinning. “Two boys kept asking me how much bear poop was in the dirt. They were obsessed.”
I laugh, aiming her way. “Boys and poop: wish I could say I don’t know a thing or five about that obsession.”
Fuck.I hide my wince. Don’t usually bring up my family with her.
“When can I meet your brothers?” she asks.
And that’s why.
I brush a lock of hair from her face. “One day, I’m sure.”
“What about tomorrow?” She blinks. “When we go home?”
We’re taking two days off together. Alena’s going home to have a spa day with her, “like a grandmother, Nadine.”
When really, it’s my mom, wanting to keep Alena safe, while I have to drop my guard to initiate another queen. I told my mom that Wilder can watch Alena, but Mom wants time with her too.
