Page 5 of Holiday Hostage

“We’re here.” Koda breaks whatever tension is building between me and Bryce, climbs out of the truck, and slams the door behind him.

Well, at least one out of three doesn’t want to kill me. Which means my chances of survival are about thirty-three percent. Fifty-fifty would be a hell of a lot better, but the jury is still out on where Eli stands as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, Koda isn’t having any trouble expressing his feelings on the matter. And he is not a fan. I need to win them over if I have any shot at convincing them to let me go.

Except I have no idea how I'm supposed to do that.

I roll off Bryce’s lap, wiping my face with the back of my hand to check that I hadn’t slept with my mouth open and drooled all over myself. After sitting up, I scooch across the back seat and take Bryce’s offered hand to brace myself as I hop out of the truck.

Here is nothing like I would have expected for our destination. Not that I could have gleaned anything from the drive with my eyes closed. They might as well have blindfolded me for all the clues I gathered during my nap. Though the fact that they didn’t comes as a surprise.

“This is…umm, nice.” Nice? Nice. Like they invited me to hang out after school and this is my first glimpse of their parents' house instead of being held as a hostage.

“Yeah, it is.” Eli laughs and shakes his head. He’s waiting at the top of the porch steps leaning against one of the support beams with his arms crossed over his chest, but tilts his head to the side as if something just occurred to him. He unfolds his arms, reaches for his mask, tugs it off, and shoves it in the front pocket of his black cargo pants. “What did you expect?”

Shit. Now I’ve seen all their faces. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t complain. Hell, I might sit back and admire the view because the three of them are gorgeous. Likeif they flashed a dimpled smile and winked at the bank tellers, they would have happily handed over all the money in their cash drawers without being held up at gunpoint. But these were not the circumstances when you ogle a man—or three—and take in every detail. These are circumstances when you are better off forgetting.

Sort of like the question Eli just asked me.

“What?” I ask, realizing too late that I was staring at him.

“What kind of place did you think we’d be hiding out in?” Eli’s smile lights up his face, warming his brown eyes. “I’m curious.”

“I mean, an abandoned warehouse or a garage maybe?” I stopped ogling my captors and took in the scenery around us.

The log cabin looks old and rustic, but it’s clear from the electrical lines running to it that it has modern conveniences and at least one skylight. There are acres and acres of land without a neighbor in sight, and the property is filled with massive pine and cedar trees. It’s picturesque, a place to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life. A place to when you need to get away.

Or a getaway place.

“This is real life, not some low-budget action movie.” Eli shoves his hand in his pocket, pulls out a different set of keys, and unlocks the front door. His broad shoulders fill the doorway before he slips inside.

“Kind of feels like everything’s been ripped straight out of a script to me. Bank robbery, car chase, all that’s missing are a few explosions and an epic fight scene,” I mutter, unable to stop the flinch when Bryce places his hand on the small of my back and nudges me toward the house.

He leans down, lips brushing my ear when he whispers, “I made you a promise, remember?”

All I can do is nod my answer and acknowledge his promise. My breath is trapped in my lungs, and any words I may have said are stuck in my throat over his proximity.

“Move your asses. We’re exposed out here,” Koda barks, clipping Bryce’s shoulder as he passes us and trusses up the front steps.

“Ladies first.” Bryce gives another little nudge and guides me into the cabin. He drops his pack on a solid wood dining table with a clear epoxy finish and natural bark edge that looks like it's been made of a single slab. He nods toward the couch in the center of the cabin. “Might as well get comfortable, princess. We’re going to be here a while.”

“I have a name, you know.” With a hard pivot, I slip out of his reach and plop on the couch with a huff.

“Seeing as we’re going to be here a while,” Eli interjects, “maybe we should get to know each other a little better.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Koda throws his pack on the floor beside the dining table, pulls out one end of the bench that runs the length of the table, swings one leg over, and sits straddling the end. “It’s a hostage situation, not a social visit.”

Inside the cabin is an open floor plan. The kitchen has shelves mounted on the walls in place of cabinets with newer stainless steel appliances running along the right side. Hooks in an L-shape take up a third of the back wall and lead to a set of French doors that I assume open to a deck along the back of the cabin. A butcher block island with a couple of stools separates the kitchen from the living and dining areas. There are floating stairs running up the left wall leading to a loft and what looks like a hall leading to a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom.

Bryce, Eli, and Koda are spread out, sitting or standing in different sections of the open layout. It’s not because they can’t stand to be around each other. It’s purposeful and strategic because they expect me to put up a fight or make a run for it.

At some point, I will, but I need a plan first.

“You already know our names.” Eli picks up the conversation again when I let it drop. “And like you said, you have a name that isn’t princess, so why don’t we start there.”

“Laiken.” I shift on the couch, adjusting my position and craning my neck, stopping to meet each one in the eye as I scan the room. “My name is Laiken.”

“Pretty unique name for a pretty girl.” Eli flashes a smile, and the hint of a dimple makes an appearance on his left side. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. Does it mean something?”

“It’s Dutch. My grammy said it means from the lake.” I rub at the spot over my heart, the source of the ache I’ve felt ever since she died, but it never helps.

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