Page 6 of Trig
I might have been in his bed, but I didn’t know Trig Wilder.
Never heard of him. He was a local and probably knew my father. That was the way it was with rural communities.
From what I could see of his bedroom, the place was nice. Well made furniture, thick bedding. Heat. Windows that weren’t cracked. Wood floors that gleamed. There was money here.
Was he part of the monthly high-stakes poker games? Was he friends with Father and Mr. Trout? Did he know of the bargain they made? Pay off Father’s debt in exchange for me?
Trig seemed too nice to be one of them. The way he looked me over, I felt it everywhere. It was completely different than my mother’s creepy boyfriend’s glances. Different than Mr. Trout’s leers.
Mr. Trout had made it very clear that I had no options.
“You’re marrying me,” he’d said, cruelly gripping my wrist. “Your father owes me half a million dollars if you don’t. He can’t help you. No one can. You go to the police, they’ll just bring you back. You ask for help from someone I don’t know, I’ll make them pay. And so will you. You wouldn’t want to see someone you care about get hurt now, do you? Because it would be all your fault.” His gaze had raked down my body and I tried not to hurl. Even the bowler boyfriend Mom had back in seventh grade who’d wanted to feel me up wasn’t as scary as this. “That pussy better be fucking worth it. If not, I’ll take your ass, too. Hell, I’ll do it anyway. Make you scream.”
I’d fought him then and he’d grinned. “Fight. I like it better that way.”
Two hours later, I’d fled.
He’d inferred the police were in his pocket. If I went to a friend for help, he’d hurt them.
I hadn’t meant to end up in Trig’s house–in his bed–but here I was.
I wanted him to be a good guy, but I couldn’t trust anyone, so I lied.
“Ellie Raintree,” I said, using the nickname my friends in Seattle called me and my mother’s maiden name.
He dropped his hand and his gaze met mine again. Smiled.
“Ellie. Pretty name for the prettiest girl.”
This close, his perfection was even sharper. Chocolate eyes. A beard I wanted to touch. Lips I wanted to kiss. He was a stranger! A stranger who put me into one of his t-shirts and nothing else. Who must’ve seen me naked. My cheeks flamed even hotter.
I wasn’t a prude, but I hadn’t had much experience with men. Especially not waking up in one’s bed and only in his shirt. Or stranded with him in a storm. Or being attracted to him so intensely.
“Well, Ellie, need to call someone to let them know where you are? I didn’t grab any of your things from your car, but I’ve got a phone you can use.”
My eyes widened and I felt the same lick of panic I had the night before. No way was I calling anyone. Not with his phone. As for mine, I’d tossed it into the snow berm when I got out of the car, not wanting to touch the device that held Mr. Trout’s texts.
He studied me for a few uncomfortable seconds, then said, “The snow’s not lettin’ up anytime soon. Might be a day or morebefore things’ll be dug out enough for you to get on your way to Seattle. Looks like you’re staying here with me.”
A few days with Trig? Why did that idea excite me? I felt safe, at least for a short time. But what about Trig? Was staying here putting him in danger?
Except if I couldn’t get out, that meant Mr. Trout and Father couldn’t get out either.
5
TRIG
The night before,Ellie never woke up when I got her in my house. Once I kicked the door shut behind me and Beau, I set her on my couch and quickly began to strip her of her icy layers. But when her boots were on the floor and I moved to the hem of her shirt, I stopped.
Looked to Beau. He’d stayed with me in the past, so he knew to find towels and an extra blanket in the laundry room. He dropped to his knees on the floor beside me.
“What?” he asked, confused as to why I wasn’t helping her. Beau was two years younger, with pitch black hair that was messed up after tugging off his hat and a goatee, making everyone tell him he looked like a famous country singer.
“No fucking way are you seeing what’s mine,” I said to him.
He looked between me, then the unconscious woman, then back.
“Yours?” he asked, confused.
