Page 8 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
Beau nods. “Thanks. And Mason? Be careful.”
Even he knows this is dangerous. I had a close call tonight. Really close. And the reality of that is just settling in.
“Always.”
The call ends. Beau drops the phone in the cupholder, but the nervous drumming continues against the wheel.
“They’ll watch your building, see if your stalker comes back. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Neither of us thinks they will, that it’ll be that easy, but it’s worth a try.
“What about your office?”
I shake my head. “I worked for my sister. My laptopismy office.”
And it’s back in my apartment. Hopefully. Sighing, thinking of the hundreds of unread emails I’ve been ignoring since Amber went missing, I get back to the issue at hand. Staying alive long enough to figure it out.
“And if Ben really says no? Where do I go then?”
Beau’s hands tighten on the wheel. “He won’t. He might bitch about it, but he won’t turn you away. Not once he sees...” He gestures vaguely at my state of dishevelment. I hope he’s right.
We turn onto a gravel road which quickly gives way to dirt. The SUV tires crunch over stones; the sound muffled by the rain hitting the roof. There are no streetlights out here. No houses. Nothing except darkness and rain, and the twin beams of headlights showing the way. Trees press close on either side, and branches scrape the vehicle, but Beau doesn’t seem to care about his paint work. Looking at the mess inside, that tracks.
“Harris is good at her job,” Beau says suddenly. “If she gave you my number, you can trust that she did it for a reason. We’ll get this guy.”
That does make me feel a little better, less like I’m the idiot in a horror movie who’s fallen for the psycho’s ruse to get her into her car and out of town.
“How do you know each other? Were you a cop before?”
He barks out a laugh, shaking his head, as the ghost of a smile crosses his face. “Definitely not a cop.”
Taking another turn, the trees give way to a clearing, and headlights sweep across a log cabin that looks hand-built from the surrounding forest. Its walls are dark with rain, small windows glowing with warm light, and there’s a wide porch that runs along the front. White smoke drifts from a stone chimney, quickly dispersed by a stiff breeze that sways the trees.
Beau pulls up beside a battered pickup and cuts the engine. The sudden absence of other noises makes the rain sound even louder. He turns to face me fully, expression serious in the dim light.
“Ben’s going to be... resistant. He’s a bit of a loner, but he’s a good guy. Solid. He’ll come around. Just... let me do the talking, okay?”
Before I can answer, the cabin door opens, and a massive figure fills the doorway, arms folded, his huge frame backlit by warm light from inside. Even from here, I can feel the tension radiating off him.
So this must be Ben. Beau was right.
He’s not happy.
3
ZARA
Ben doesn’t raise a hand in greeting or move to acknowledge his brother’s arrival at all. He simply stares.
“Stay here for a second.”
“Gladly.”
Beau pushes open the driver’s door and steps out into the downpour with a muttered curse. He ducks his head and hurries across the flat, grassy area that serves as a garden.
Ben takes a couple of unhurried strides forward, bringing him under the light on his porch. They clearly make them big here in Black Ridge because the way he’s filling out the red check flannel he’s wearing tells me that this Lennox is another man mountain.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he silently stares down Beau’s jeep, with me in it, like he can intimidate us into turning around and driving back to where we came from.
