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Leaning back into the shadows, Caleb reached down and lifted Grace out. Dolly sprang out a heartbeat later, a pale streak disappearing into the trees without a backward glance.
Grace stumbled toward Dolly’s exit. “Wait, where is she going? Your truck is the other way.”
“They’ll be expecting that.” He propelled her toward the dense tree line opposite the dirt road’s lazy curve. “This way.”
Caleb led her into the forest along a thin thread of a track, invisible in the snow, but he knew it from memory. Unease coiled in his gut. Fresh snow betrayed their flight with damning clarity—a glaring arrow pointing the way for their hunters. Every snapped twig and footprint was a klaxon, announcing their presence.
He breathed a sigh of relief as dense evergreens fell away to reveal a small clearing bathed in moonlight. He halted on the clearing boundary close to where a ramshackle lean-to lurked against the tree line. Its weathered boards, all but invisible, provided cover for an aging truck.
“This is yours?”
He grunted his agreement. “Plan B.” Because a good operative always had a Plan B.
Dolly waited beside the truck, giving a soft woof to acknowledge their arrival. Good girl.
He waited for a hint of their pursuers but nothing stirred save the plumes of his breathing and the soft sigh of wind through naked branches.
“Okay. Let’s go.” He hurried across the clearing, plunged his hand into the rot-hollowed trunk of a long-dead oak where his numb fingers closed around icy metal—the spare key.
The driver’s door shrieked in protest as he wrenched it open. A packed duffle bag rested on the passenger seat. Caleb tossed it aside to make space for Grace and Dolly, then slid behind the wheel. Ancient vinyl protested beneath his weight as he cranked the engine, and he flinched as its throaty growl shattered the tomb-like silence.
So fucking loud.
The dull yellow headlights speared through the night, skeleton branches casting monstrous shadows across the snow as he reversed onto the main road.
Grace was silent as he turned away from Aurora Cove. Instead, he headed deeper into the mountains, toward the craggy peaks ahead. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe. I promise.” He reached across the threadbare seat, his fingers catching hold of hers for a moment. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he searched for telltale pricks of yellow light, but only the night stared back. They were alone, for now at least.
He returned his attention to Grace, huddled against the passenger door, her features drawn and ashen in the faltering amber glow of the dash lights. Her uninjured hand was fisted in Dolly’s thick ruff where the dog lay draped protectively across her lap.
She had endured more than any person should have to face, and yet still she persevered.
A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw as he dragged his attention back to the road. There could be no doubt in his heart any longer.
This woman was his. His to shelter, his to protect, his to fight for.
22
Grace jolted awake as the rattle of the engine sputtered into abrupt silence. Blinking away the lingering fog of exhaustion, she peered through the windshield at the unfamiliar landscape. A vaulted sky stretched in a vast expanse of ink, broken only by the spark of stars.
“Where are we?” She fumbled with her seatbelt, her fingers clumsy with fatigue.
Caleb swung down from his seat and a blast of frigid air rushed the cab in his absence. In a few long strides, he rounded the hood and opened her door. “This is my brother’s place.” He extended one hand to help her down.
“Ryder?”
He shook his head. “Older brother. Wyatt.” His breath fogged in the icy night, mingling with her own ragged exhales. He must have read the worry on her face. “Don’t worry. He’s not around.” His lips twitched in the ghost of a reassuring smile. “He’s helping our folks with some…” His gaze cut away as he searched for the right word. “Renovations.”
Grace dropped to the frozen ground, pristine snow beneath her boots. A violent shiver wracked her frame, the events of the night heavy on her shoulders. It was too late to pull back now. After tonight? Caleb was involved.
Panic skated through her. Everything was threatening to fall apart.
She hugged her arms around herself, trying in vain to conserve what little warmth remained. The adrenalin that had sustained her during their frantic flight had long since burned away, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. She was almost too tired to feel fear any longer. Did that happen? Could you run so long that eventually your body stopped reacting?
They were high above Aurora Cove. Dense forest blanketed the mountainside, the snow-laden boughs of evergreens stretching as far as she could see. “Won’t he mind us being here?”
Caleb hefted the weathered duffle bag he’d tossed in the truck bed earlier, slinging it over one broad shoulder. “Wyatt won’t mind. He keeps a small place down in Aurora proper, but this...” He gestured at the sprawling timber and glass structure behind him. “This is his bolt hole.”
