Page 2 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
We got stuck in that elevator.
For 45 minutes, Dad and I were trapped inside that hanging box w
ith three cops. A good-guy trifecta. Sitting on the cramped elevator floor, Dad chatted with the three uniformed men about their careers while I sat in silence. For 45 minutes, I was in awe, not even slightly panicked that we were stuck in the elevator. Why? Because I was with heroes. Because I couldn’t get enough of their real-life adventures. Because their actual accounts were far more entertaining than any fictional tale I’d ever been told.
By the time the elevator jolted to life, a reporter had been born. I craved more of their stories. I craved a story of my own. I’ve long since admired the men—and women—in uniform who fight to protect us from danger. And although a career in law enforcement or the military was not part of my destined path, I have dreamed of doing my part.
This is my story. As you may have guessed, its heroine is me, and this past fall, I set out to catch a villain.
Swiping the steam off the bathroom mirror, I took a hard look at myself. The grime had been scrubbed from my hair, and my fingernails were no longer caked with dried blood, but I was still a complete mess. The angry red bruises around my throat would take weeks to disappear and the gash on my lip was likely going to scar.
“What the hell did you do, Sabrina?” I muttered, my voice scratchy and rough. The woman in the mirror didn’t answer, not that she needed to.
What had I done?
I had written an incredibly condemning article vilifying a prominent Seattle family tied to the Russian mafia. Basically, I’d waltzed right into the middle of a hornet’s nest and started poking the wasps.
It was no surprise that I’d been stung.
Gently pulling and prodding my face, I inspected my injuries. Anton Federov, my “boyfriend,” had done a number on me. Both of my eyes were red and swollen. I had a gash on one cheek and another by my hairline. My bottom lip was huge and split on one side. My face felt five times its normal size but what hurt the worst were my ribs. Anton had landed one good kick to my right side, and even the smallest movement sent sharp, stabbing pains through my torso.
The fact that I’d been able to escape before Anton had been able to rape me was nothing short of a miracle. That I’d made it out of my apartment before he could beat me to death could only be credited to divine intervention.
I just hoped that my lucky streak would continue and the evidence I’d sent to the FBI this morning would be enough to keep Anton behind bars for the rest of his miserable life. Because until he was put away, I would be hiding out with my best friend, Felicity, in her small hometown of Prescott, Montana.
Shaking off thoughts of Anton, I averted my eyes from the mirror and went about blow-drying my light-blond hair. With it floating down my back, I rubbed on some lotion and dressed in a pair of black leggings and a gray hoodie. Then I took one last glance in the mirror, wincing again at how awful I looked, and limped out of the bathroom.
Two steps out the bathroom door, I froze. A crowd of strange faces was all aimed my way. Faces that had not been here when I’d gone into the bathroom.
Ignoring their eyes, I hobbled down the hallway, keeping my eyes pinned to Felicity’s as the five people in the kitchen watched my labored steps.
Felicity’s ice-blue gaze was full of worry and concern. Her hair was all puffed up, likely from running her hands through her long blond tresses. I hated that I’d caused her stress by coming here but I hadn’t had anywhere else to run. Montana had seemed like the best place to hide out from the Federovs, and even though it was the middle of the night and I’d just met her boyfriend, Silas, I felt safe in his home.
That was, until three strangers showed up.
I was trying to stay under the radar here. The fewer people that knew I was hiding out here, the better. What were Silas and Felicity thinking, bringing others into this mess?
Before I could ask, Felicity started introductions. “Sabrina, this is my brother, Jess. Remember I told you he’s also the Jamison County sheriff?”
What the hell! She’d called in a cop?
“Hi.” I dismissed the sheriff and frowned at Felicity. “Did you forget I was in hiding? Who are these people? And you brought in a cop? We can’t report any of this.”
“Don’t worry,” Jess said, stopping my rant. “I’m off the record.”
I gave him a wary glance, then relaxed at his obvious sincerity. Jess would keep my whereabouts a secret. I took a brief moment to study my best friend’s brother. I’d seen a picture of Jess once, years ago when Felicity and I had been in college, but he was all grown now, not the teen from the photograph. Jess’s light-blue eyes were honest and matched Felicity’s, but that was where their similarities ended. Though, he was just as attractive as his sister was beautiful.
“This is Maisy Holt,” Felicity said, directing my attention to the woman standing between Jess and Silas. “She used to be a nurse, so she’s going to take a look at your injuries.”
“Thanks,” I told Maisy. “I’d appreciate that.” When I’d gotten to Silas’s ranch, Felicity had insisted I go to the hospital, but I’d refused. Hospitals asked questions and made records. I couldn’t take that chance, but I needed someone with medical experience to look me over. I knew my face would heal but my ribs and ankle were a concern. The last thing I needed was a broken bone.
Maisy gave me a tiny wave and a gentle smile that lit up her face. Her big doe eyes were a beautiful mixture of gray and blue that complemented her white-blond bob perfectly.
“And this is Beau Holt, Maisy’s brother,” Felicity continued. “We were in high school together.”
My eyes raked over the other man in the room. He stepped away from the counter he had been slouched against and stood to his full height of seriously tall. My eyes traveled up and up, finally finding his, and once they did, I couldn’t tear them away.
Beau’s eyes were like the color of the ocean during a storm. My face flushed and my heart beat like a bass drum as I stared into his blue-gray gaze. Attraction mixed with fear and pain and stress. I had so many emotions whirling that I stood frozen. Brain-blanked. Mesmerized.
