Page 39 of Auctioned to the Lumberjacks (Auctioned)

Jack’s idea was to stake out the place for a night to gauge the kind of threat we might be dealing with. I take pictures and send them to Jack to see if he can identify anyone. We’re yet to see Carter himself, but the night is young.

Jack stayed at the lodge with Skye because there’s a chance he’ll get recognized from his days as a cop. Criminals have long memories, and none of us want Carter spooked before we can deal with him and get Hallie back.

“This place is a cesspit,” Finn says. “Look at this goon.”

A colossal man lumbers from the door, his belly so broad, he can barely fit through the doorway. His head seems so tiny compared to his body, like a grape resting on a melon. He shuffles, pulling his phone from his pocket and bringing it tohis ear. Not for the first time, I consider law enforcement to be an interesting career, at least some of the time. I couldn’t do it, though. I’ve become addicted to the forest and working with my hands. If my body isn’t sore by the end of the day, I feel like I haven’t done enough. The donuts could be cool, though.

“I can’t imagine Skye in this world.”

Finn nods in agreement, leaning closer to the window as a woman exits behind the goon. “She’s too gentle,” he says. “Too sweet for this life.”

The woman is wearing a leather skirt, high-heeled ankle boots, and a tube top that barely holds anything in place. She struts like she’s walking the hooker catwalk. “That woman belongs here.” I tut as she drapes herself over a man who just got out of a huge black SUV. He shoves his hand up her skirt and palms her tit in full view of everyone.

“Maybe,” Finn says, lowering the binoculars and facing me. “Or maybe she’s been forced into this life and is playing along so she doesn’t get hurt. Isn’t that what Skye must have done before she left.”

The idea of Skye acting for self-preservation is like a knife to the gut, especially if she had to sell her body.

You bought her body, I remind myself.

But it’s different. We never wanted to hurt Skye. It was always a simple money-for-service exchange. And we always intended to provide her with somewhere safe to live and maybe more if she wanted it. Somewhere she wouldn’t mind being, even if she did have to work.

We’re not the kind of men to ever use a woman without giving her pleasure too. That has to count for something.

“There’s no way we’re going to see the baby here,” Finn says, refocusing on the door.

“Why? Because it’s late?”

“Yeah. Why would anyone in their right mind bring a baby to this hole?”

“Carter’s not exactly winning father-of-the-year, though, is he?”

“We should go inside.”

I tip my head from side to side, releasing tension as the woman in leather is practically carried inside by the man with greedy hands. Do I want to go into that dive? Definitely not. This kind of place makes me feel uncomfortable to my bones, but will I do it for Skye? Absolutely.

As we slide out of the truck, I’m struck by how out of place I feel. Reggie’s bar isn’t like this. It’s for working men to let off steam, not for criminals to network. Men like this are on the edge, ready to fly off the handle for virtually no reason. They take one look at a person and immediately decide if they like them or not.

Me and Finn can handle ourselves but I don’t want to have to. Mostly, I don’t want to draw attention to us now in case it risks our future involvement in this situation.

“We need to keep a low profile.”

Finn nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. He’s wearing a plain blue shirt, and a dark blue baseball cap to shadow his features. I opted for a black sweater and a beanie, which I’ve pulled low over my forehead. My dark beard almost obliterates the rest of my face.

There are two security guards on the door which is unusual for a bar. They give us the once over, maybe because they haven’t seen us before, and this place is mostly visited by regulars. “You’re not going to give us any trouble, are you?” One of them addresses me, slightly shifting to block me from entering.

“We’re just here to have a drink. Maybe find some pussy,” I say, hoping that will be enough to satisfy him. It is, and he moves aside.

“Be careful with the pussy.” He screws his nose up as though he’s smelling something filthy. “A lot of the girls in here have been passed around more times than I can count.”

“Easy pussy’s good as long as it’s clean,” I say with a shrug.

He laughs and nods at us as we pass. “Have a good night.”

When we’re inside, the music hits like a wave. It’s some kind of grunge rock with so much strumming guitar and frantic drumming that my ears feel like they’re vibrating.

The bouncer is right. Most of the girls here look washed up. They’re not even trying to seem enthusiastic about whoever’s lap they’re currently sitting in. I lead us to the bar and order two beers. The barwoman glances between me and Finn with interest. She’s got long black hair that almost reaches her ass and black earlobe stretchers that I could poke a finger through.“First time?” she asks in a husky voice as she hands me the bottle.

“Nah. I’ve been drinking this shit since I was thirteen.” I take a long swig as she laughs, eyeing me with what feels like appreciative eyes.

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