Page 21 of Tracked
Without pausing, he reached across me and extracted something from the glove compartment—his weapon.Lifting the back of his shirt, he clipped the gun in its holster to his waistband and then flipped his jacket over it, concealing it from sight.
He opened the door and climbed down from the truck, gravel crunching under his feet, while I sat there reeling from his sequence of movements that was, quite possibly, one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.Right up there with the one-handed turn of the steering wheel.
Realizing just how crazy that thought was, I scrambled out and around the back of the truck, almost running into Calder.
His face, a mask of focus, didn’t even falter. “Stay behind me,” he instructed quietly and gave me his back.
We approached Brandon’s truck from an angle. It was hard to see much from behind him, but I realized Calder kept a very specific, tightpath where there wouldn’t be a clear view of us, either through the front windshield or the side window.
We were a few paces away when Calder tilted his head and reported, “Truck’s empty.”
An exhale blew through my lips, though I couldn’t say it was with relief.
He confirmed through the driver’s window and then headed for the trailer, stopping at the hitch.
“Wait here.”
My feet immediately stopped, my eyes darting around the trees like I expected Brandon to jump out from the brush. Wind swished through the leaves. A pair of birds cooed a morning melody in duet. But every sound, even the soothing ones, set my pulse further on edge.
Steady,I cautioned, grappling for the mental tools I deployed in the hospital to excavate adrenaline and metabolize it into a purposeful calm.
My breathing slowed and my focus lasered in on Calder as he made his way to the camper’s door. Avoiding the small window with a larger stride, he tactically positioned himself between the window and the door, his back flat to the exterior panel.
While there was no reason to expect Brandon to be hostile, Calder wasn’t taking any chances. Keeping his body away from the door, he reached out and knocked firmly. “Brandon Westman?”
My heart thumped, the following silence like a ticking bomb.
“Brandon?” Calder said and knocked louder. “Anyone home?”
The birds flew out of the tree. Branches snapped like the cracking of knuckles preparing for a fight. Leaves crunched in the tightening fist of footsteps.
I gasped and Calder looked back at me, the moment freezing us in its thrill, when a rough voice shouted from the trees.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck away from my camper!”
Brandon.
The beard. The same flannel shirt. The bitter snarl. I’d seen him only for a few seconds, but I instantly recognized him.
He stalked out of the woods wearing sweatpants and a pair of Crocs, and if I had to guess, we’d arrived at his camper just as he’d gone to relieve himself.
Heart pounding, I whipped my eyes over him, looking for any sign of a gun and coming up empty.Hopefully.
“Brandon Westman?” Calder asked calmly, stepping slowly away from the man’s door so as not to startle him, one hand lifted to signal peace.
“Who the hell are you?” he sneered, looking every bit the bully as he lumbered closer.
“I’m Calder Stone, and this is Lara,” Calder answered, his voice steady, as though he were talking down a wild animal. His raised hand lowered, the other resting on his hip close enough to his weapon in case thetalking downdidn’t go as planned. “We’re looking for Rachel Crane. Is she with you?”
“Rach—” He stopped with a curse, planting his hands on his hips, which quickly disappeared under the roll of his stomach. “Is that what she told you? Fucking cunt—”
I stiffened, my teeth sinking into my tongue to stop myself from speaking.
“Mr. Westman, is Rachel Crane with you?” Calder demanded again, the edge of his tone cutting through Brandon’s labored breathing.
“Does it look like she’s with me?” His gaze swung between us like the unsteady gait of a drunk. “And who the fuck are you, and why do you—” He broke off, his eyes locked on me.
I felt the second he recognized me the way anesthetic hits a nerve—the instant tingling. The paralysis. The buzz of epinephrine. Adrenaline in my veins.
