Page 81 of Ruthless Possession
I think about her face. The fear in her eyes, the way she pulled away from my touch at the cabin before I left her for Morgan to find. They've poisoned her against me, turned her into this weak and frightened child. But I'll fix that. I'll make her strong again, the way I tried to make her mother strong.
The creek widens as I approach the cabin, the water rushing over stones. I step carefully into the cold water, feeling it soak through my boots. The sound covers my approach completely.
I can see the back of the cabin now, a dark shape against the star-filled sky. No lights back here, no movement. They think they're safe, hidden away in this mountain retreat.
They're wrong.
I climb the bank silently, water dripping from my clothes, my knife ready in my hand. The cabin is just twenty yards away now. I can see the back door, the small window beside it. No guards back here—a fatal mistake.
I crouch in the shadows, watching, waiting. A figure passes in front of the lit window, Morgan's mother, I think, based on the description the men gave me. She moves slowly, tiredly, carrying something in her hands.
I smile in the darkness. They have no idea I'm here, no idea what's coming for them.
I think about my Charlie, asleep in her bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and false promises of safety. She'll wake up soon, but not in this cabin. She'll wake up somewhere far away, where only I have her, where only I can protect her.
I move forward, one silent step at a time, the knife cold in my hand. The night belongs to me now.
And soon, so will Charlie and Morgan.
The knife weighs exactly right in my hand, balanced, familiar, like an extension of my arm. I've killed with this before; I can do it again.
A thought stops me at the edge of the tree line and an idea forms.
The back door is right there. Twenty feet of open ground and I'm inside. I could be in and out with Charlie in under three minutes if I move fast. The guards are all out front, pacing their predictable little circles, smoking their cigarettes, thinking they're soldiers.
But they'll hear her scream. They'll come running.
I've never been sloppy. That's why I'm still free.
I crouch lower, pressing myself against the rough bark of a pine tree, and I watch the window. Morgan's mother passes by again. She's older than I expected with gray in her hair, and a softness to her body that comes with age. She looks tired, vulnerable.
I don't need Charlie. Not yet.
Charlie is the thing they're all watching. Charlie is the prize, the center, the reason every gun in that cabin is loaded and every eye is on the door. If I go for Charlie, I run into a wall of muscle and steel and I might not get back out.
But if I go for someone else, someone they love just as much but aren't watching quite as closely, then everything changes.
Morgan will come to me.
Morgan will walk right out of that cabin and into my arms if I have the right leverage. She'll leave the guns and the guards and the little mountain fortress behind because she won't have a choice. She's that kind of woman. The kind who loves too hard, who puts everyone else first, who would trade herself for someone she loves without even thinking about it.
I know her type. I've always known her type. That's why she was perfect.
She is the perfect mother for Charlie, and we will be a happy family after we leave all of these dicks behind.
chapter thirteen
Trenton
The truck bounces down the narrow mountain road, headlights cutting through the darkness. I glance in the side mirror, watching the cabin grow smaller behind us until it's just a pinprick of light in the vast darkness.
"Stop," I tell Matthew.
He pulls over at a switchback, the engine idling as I roll down my window. The cold air rushes in, making my eyes water. I stare back up the mountain where the cabin sits nestled among the trees.
Carter stands on the porch, his massive frame silhouetted against the cabin light. Even from this distance, I can see him raise his hand in a gesture of reassurance. Beside him, Morgan's father Isaac crosses his arms, his posture relaxed but alert. Retired SEAL. The man has killed more enemies than I've had hot meals. Kane stands at the edge of the porch, scanning the tree line with the practiced eye of someone who's done this a thousand times before.
They'll protect them. I know this. Isaac and Kane, between them, have enough combat experience to handle a small army. Carter might be younger, but his MMA background makes him deadly in close quarters. And Sydney, she's inside with Morgan's mom, another layer of protection.
