Page 14 of Naughty With The Mountain Man
“I’m always up.”
“Got something you’re not gonna like.”
My jaw tightens. “Talk.”
“Ellie’s place. Local deputy did a sweep this morning like we asked. Another package was dropped on her porch overnight.”
I freeze, the spatula hovering above the pan. “What was in it?”
“Broken ornament again. This one was a goose. Card attached said,I’ll find you. You can’t hide for long.”
The tension in my chest snaps tight, like a tripwire pulled too hard. “Son of a?—”
“Whoever it is, they know she’s not home. And they’re taunting her. We’re looking at security footage, canvassing nearby cameras. I’ve got a couple names. One guy’s known for shaking up teen centers like hers—might be tied to a trafficking ring that’s rebranding under the radar. Another’s got a history with foster kids and intimidation. I’ll keep digging.”
“I want in.”
“Thought you might say that,” Nate mutters. “But she needs a bodyguard. A damn good one. That’s you, Hunt.”
I press the heel of my hand into the counter, grounding myself in the sting of pressure. “I can’t protect herandhunt this prick.”
“Not alone, no. But I’ve got boots. Hale’s working the local side. We’ll find him.”
“I don’t like that he knows she’s not home. That’s a risk.”
“I know.” Nate’s voice softens, but it’s still firm. “We’re not letting this go, Micah. You’re not alone in this.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “Send me the footage when you get it.”
“I will. And Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“You gonna tell her?”
I look down the hallway, toward the room where she’s still sleeping. Peaceful. Unaware. I don’t want to watch that trust fade from her eyes. Not yet. Not before she’s had a minute to feel okay.
“Not sure,” I mutter. “I’ll know when she wakes up.”
We hang up, and I stare down at the pan like it’s got answers. My hands are steady, but my blood’s hot. Whoever this is, they’re playing with her. They’re trying to get in her head.
That pisses me off more than anything else.
Because Ellie’s not just another assignment. She’sherself. Bright, stubborn, mouthy. She walks into a room like it should be better behaved. She laughs with her whole body. And when she’s scared, she doesn’t shut down—she pushes forward.
I won’t let anyone take that from her.
The soft creak of the bedroom door pulls my attention. She appears a moment later, wrapped in the quilt, hair mussed, blinking at me like she’s still only half here.
“Something smells amazing,” she murmurs.
“Hash and eggs,” I say. “Breakfast of champions.”
She yawns as she pads barefoot across the room, eyes still hazy. “Is this your way of bribing me into not asking questions first thing in the morning?”
“Bribery’s a tool,” I admit.
She stops in front of me, tilts her head. “You’re doing that thing again.”
