He quickly shifted away. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get fucking comfortable. And you’re warm compared to the floor.”
The man huffed, but after a second moved his leg against her. She hadn’t been lying, the warmth was nice. With the engine off, the chill was seeping through the cracks in the doors.
It was strange how he responded so quickly. Maybe she could use his apparent attraction to her advantage.
The front door opened and shut in a rush. The driver said some words to the man next to her about the supplies he’d bought—food, lights, batteries, and so on.
They were surprisingly docile for murderers. And now that she’d managed to get one to give her a sliver of comfort, she couldn’t help but wonder how far she could bend them.
Chapter 8
Ryker
What the fuck were they going to do with her? There was no telling how long the road would be blocked. They should’ve taken her somewhere closer than Henderson. They were cornered up here.
They shuffled their captive into the cabin. The cold wind bit at his face until he put his mask back on. With their identities guarded, he removed the bag from her head. She blinked hard as her eyes adjusted to the light and took in the surroundings: a small living area with a couch and a dining table with four chairs connected to what could barely be described as a kitchen. There was a woodstove in the center of it all, which he was eager to get lit. The place was pretty chilly, and Willow was shivering.
Wait, why do I care?
Ryker marched her over to the spare room while Ezra grabbed a chair. They urged her to sit and readjusted the bindings around her wrists to tie her to the seat.
She made a pitiful noise as they did it. “Please move my hands in front.”
Ezra replied quickly, “No.” Then he stalked out of the room. Ryker lingered for a moment. There was obviously a reason she kept asking. Maybe she was trying to trick them. The grimace on her pretty face didn’t look fake, though.
Well, chances were that they would readjust her eventually. They couldn’t expect her to stay like that for however long they were stuck.
Ryker turned to follow his companion out of the room and closed the door behind him. He briefly caught those pained eyes as he did and felt a stab of guilt in his chest.
In the living area, Ezra flopped onto the couch and groaned while pulling his mask off. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What a fuckin’ nightmare.”
“Think she’s cold in there?” Ryker asked, pulling off his own mask. They had only worn the coverings when it was possible for Willow to see them, but it was a relief all the same.
His friend laughed. “She’s fine.” He glanced at the woodstove. “I’ll check out the woodpile. Fuck. I always hated chopping wood. Especially in the wind.”
“Does the water work?”
“Yeah. I de-winterized it last month and have been keeping the heat low. It isn’t freezing up here anymore, though.”
Ryker snorted while rubbing his hands together. “Yeah. ‘Not freezing’.”
“Hey, it gets way colder in December. You babies would never make it out here.”
He nodded. It wasn’t untrue. Ryker wasn’t a cold-weather guy.
There was a scraping sound coming from the other room, followed by a hardthud.With it came Willow’s pitiful swear.
That must have hurt.
Ezra groaned. “Make sure she didn’t kill herself.” He stood and made his way toward the door. “I’ll be back with some more wood. Get what’s there started.”
“Okay,” he replied. That shouldn’t be hard. He had a lighter on him and there was some paper in a pile.
Ryker made his way to the room Willow was in. She was on her side, still tied to the chair and breathing heavily. He righted her, noting how hard the lines in her face were with every little movement. She was clearly in pain, but was trying to hide it. If she was trying to play them, why would she be holding it in?
She made a strange noise as her teeth chattered. It was freezing in there, and she wasn’t dressed as warmly as they were. It would take a long time for the room to heat up.
