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Authors: Jill Sorenson

BOOK: Backwoods
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“Are you at the cabin?”

“Not yet. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I just wanted to give you some information pertaining to the case.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve identified the body as belonging to Gary Nash.”

“Gary Nash,” she repeated. “Not his son, Wyatt?”

“That’s right. Wyatt Nash is currently unaccounted for.”

“And Gary Nash is dead.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Abby looked sideways at Nathan, somewhat relieved by this news.

“You can still visit the morgue for a viewing,” the deputy said. “Some victims think it helps give them closure.”

Being referred to as a victim unsettled her. She wasn’t one. She was a survivor. But she couldn’t say she hadn’t been traumatized by this experience. What she’d seen in those tunnels. The horrors she’d imagined. More nightmares and panic attacks loomed on the horizon. She wanted to see Nash on the table and make sure he was never getting up.

“Thank you,” she said, ending the call. “Gary Nash is dead.”

“Good,” Nathan said. “He can burn in hell.”

“His son is still missing.”

Although Brooke had seemed very sympathetic toward Wyatt, Abby felt uneasy. The kid had put an arrow through his father’s neck. He’d lived in a torture chamber with a psychopath. He was no Boy Scout.

At the cabin, Nathan parked behind Abby’s SUV and they all got out. The front door was open. Nathan and Leo checked the bedrooms while Abby shouted for Brooke, her heart stuttering in her chest. They found Ray bound and gagged in the master bedroom. He was alive, so they didn’t pause to help him. Brooke was their main priority.

The last bedroom was locked. Abby rattled the doorknob. “Brooke?”

“Don’t come in,” Brooke cried out. “He has a gun.”

Nathan gestured for her to step aside. He broke through the door in two hard kicks. Brooke was in front of the bed with Wyatt Nash. They were wrestling for control of a shotgun like kids fighting over a toy on the playground.

She was also topless.

The sight of her in distress seemed to trigger a feral response in Leo. He lowered his shoulder and charged, tackling Wyatt. They rolled across the bed and fell over. The shotgun landed on the other side, out of reach. Brooke stumbled backward with a sharp cry. Abby rushed to her daughter’s side, putting her arms around her.

Leo gripped the front of Wyatt’s shirt and started wailing on him. He punched Wyatt three or four times in a row. Although Wyatt was skinny, he had a surprising speed and agility. Maybe his father had taught him some combat techniques. He evaded Leo’s next punch and drove the heel of his hand into Leo’s nose.

Nathan broke them apart by grabbing Wyatt and hauling him to his feet. Leo got up and kept swinging, driving his fist into Wyatt’s stomach.

“Stop it,” Brooke screamed, pulling away from Abby. She gripped Leo’s right arm to prevent him from hitting Wyatt again. “Stop hurting him!”

Nathan had Wyatt’s arms wrenched behind his back, motionless. Blood dripped from a cut above the boy’s eye, streaking down the side of his face. He was breathing hard, his mouth set in a grim line, but he wasn’t struggling.

Leo wiped his nose, which was also bleeding, and looked at Brooke. “He was trying to force himself on you.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

He gaped at her in disbelief. His gaze dropped to her breasts, as if her nudity was proof of Wyatt’s guilt.

Brooke let go of his arm to cover her chest, flushing. Abby found Brooke’s discarded clothing items and brought them to her. She didn’t know what to think. The scene was too chaotic to process.

“Get me something to tie him up with,” Nathan said to Abby.

Ray’s overnight bag was sitting in the corner, its contents spilling out across the floor. She grabbed an expensive silk tie and handed it to Leo, who secured Wyatt’s thin wrists. The boy didn’t resist or speak. Nathan sat him down on the bed, keeping a firm grip on him. Leo stood guard near the shotgun.

They had the situation under control, so Abby and Brooke left the room. Brooke put on her bra and tank top in the hall, her shoulders trembling. When her face crumpled with emotion, Abby drew Brooke into her arms. “Shh. It’s okay now.”

A moment later, sheriff’s deputies entered the house. They handcuffed Wyatt and took him away in the back of a squad car. They also freed Ray, who was bound and gagged in one of the guest rooms.

More law enforcement officers came to interview Brooke, including a pair of FBI agents assigned to the case. She showed them the five pages of notes she’d written at Wyatt’s request.

According to Brooke, the boy had planned to commit suicide, and she was trying to stop him. She didn’t mention her state of undress. Neither did Nathan or Leo. Abby stayed by her side the whole time to support her.

Ella and Paul brought everyone breakfast. Lydia came also, hugging Leo and even Ray. The mood at the cabin was somber.

They were all safe. The ordeal was over.

After the law enforcement officers left, Nathan drove Abby and Brooke to the morgue. Leo came along for the ride. Abby had seen her share of dead bodies, mostly beloved residents. Some not-so-beloved. The sight of Nash didn’t affect her as deeply as she’d feared. He looked like a corpse, not a monster.

They retrieved their belongings from the hotel and headed back to the cabin. Nathan reached across the console to hold her hand while Leo and Brooke sat on opposite sides of the backseat, staring out their respective windows.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

B
ROOKE
HADN

T
DONE
anything wrong. Leo knew that.

Wyatt Nash had attacked her father. He’d lured her to the cabin and made her write his sick sob story at gunpoint. Then he’d traumatized her further by threatening to blow his head off. She hadn’t wanted him. She’d wanted to avoid seeing his brains splattered on the ceiling. Leo understood what happened. Even so, his gut reaction wasn’t sympathy. It was jealous rage, as if she’d cheated on him.

They weren’t dating. He wasn’t her boyfriend. Okay, yeah—he’d fucked her. That had been an incredibly stupid decision, fueled by years of pent-up longing. She’d needed comfort and he’d given it to her. But he had no ownership over her. He had no hold on her, no right to tell her what to do with her body.

He thought they had a special connection, though. They’d been through a lot together. Last night had been...intense. He knew she’d enjoyed herself. She’d responded to him. He’d made her come. They’d both agreed not to start a relationship, but he’d sort of assumed she would pine over him, just a little. Daydream and fantasize about him, the way he daydreamed and fantasized about her. He was in no hurry to hook up with other girls. He didn’t even want to wash her scent off his hands.

It had been a shock to find her half-naked with Wyatt Nash, hours after leaving Leo’s bed. Leo thought he’d been rescuing her, defending her honor. But no. She’d let that freak touch her. She’d begged Leo not to hurt him.

Every way he looked at it, he felt rejected. Cast aside. Maybe the best night of his life hadn’t meant that much to her.

He hated himself for feeling this way. He should be comforting Brooke, not sulking like a kid who’d lost his favorite plaything. His dad was holding Abby’s hand across the console. Leo could do that with Brooke. Taking a deep breath, he hazarded another glance at her. She was staring out the window, toying with the plastic hospital bracelet that was still around her wrist. He remembered the sounds she’d made when she came. Her mouth had formed a soft O of pleasure when he slid into her.

Leo tore his gaze away. Instead of offering his hand to her, he clenched it into a fist. His knuckles were scraped and swollen from Wyatt’s ugly face. Their fight hadn’t done his injured leg any favors, either. He wanted a pain pill. Better yet, a few hits of weed. He needed to mellow out before he exploded.

As soon as they arrived at the cabin, he got out of the backseat and hobbled inside. He had a joint stashed in his iPod case. It would make everything better. Ray’s insults, his mother’s tears, the disturbing memories of violence, his dark fury. All of that bad shit would fade. So would the good shit, like Brooke’s pretty face at the moment of orgasm. But that was a price he’d have to pay.

He retreated into one of the bedrooms with his backpack. Before he could find his iPod case, his mother knocked on the door. “Leo?”

“Yeah.”

She came inside and sat down on the bed. Her eyes looked red, as if she’d been up all night crying. “I need to talk to you about Ray.”

“I don’t want to talk about Ray.”

“He’s sorry.”

Leo made a sound of skepticism.

“He’s grateful to you for saving Brooke.”

“I didn’t save Brooke.”

“He said you could have your car back.”

“What about you?” he asked, annoyed. “What’s he going to do for you, besides work all the time and sleep around?”

She moistened her lips, hesitant.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgiven him.”

“We both made mistakes,” she said, looking away. “Just like me and your father.”

Resentment welled up inside him, festering beneath the surface. Even if his dad had been 90 percent at fault, Leo wished she’d been honest with him about the reasons they’d split. “I know you cheated on Dad.”

“He told you?”

“Brooke told me.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t want you to find out.”

“Why?”

“I thought...you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“That’s dumb, Mom. I could never not love you.”

“You mean the world to me,” she said in Portuguese.

He knew that. His dad had been gone a lot, and Ray was even more absent. It had always been just the two of them. She did his laundry and cooked his favorite meals and doted on him. “You’re a great mom.”

Her chin wobbled with emotion. When he put his arm around her, she pressed her face to his shoulder and cried. “I want you and Ray to get along.”

“I want him to treat you better.”

“We’re going to start counseling.”

Leo wasn’t optimistic about her chances of patching things up with Ray. She should kick him to the curb and move on with a guy who was capable of loving someone other than himself. She deserved to be happy.

They discussed Leo’s plans for the rest of the summer, which were flexible. He would hang around the house as much as possible for the next few weeks in case she needed him. As far as Leo was concerned, Ray was the one on probation.

“How are things with your father?” she asked.

“Okay,” he said, shrugging.

She smiled at his guarded response. “It’s good to see the two of you talking again.”

He thought about the surfing lesson he hadn’t agreed to. She’d be disappointed in him for saying no, so he didn’t mention it.

“We’re leaving now if you want to come with us.”

“I’ll go with Dad,” he said. He’d rather ride his bike, but that wasn’t an option with his injured leg.

“I can bring you back for your motorcycle next week.”

He stood up to hug her goodbye. She seemed so much smaller now, so slight in his arms. “I’ll be home tonight, I guess.”

“Be sweet to Brooke,” she said, touching his face. “She has such a crush on you.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“She didn’t have to.”

He felt a stab of guilt for crossing the line with her. That wasn’t the kind of sweet his mother would approve of. He was ashamed of what he’d done and how he felt. “She’s affectionate with everyone. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Maybe he’d protested too much, because her gaze sharpened as she released him. “She’s a lovely girl. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

He’d done a lot more than notice—and there was no way he’d discuss it with his mother. If Ray had told her about his computer files, she’d never mentioned it. Leo still had the pool party photo saved in a secret folder.

Ray interrupted their conversation by coming in to shake his hand and thank him. Leo accepted the peacemaking gesture for his mother’s sake, but his tense grip and narrow eyes conveyed the following message: I’m watching you, buddy.

After they left, Leo found the joint he’d stashed. He turned it around and around in his fingers, struck by a strange ambivalence. Maybe he should wait until later. The urgency he’d felt to get high had slipped away, leaving an empty space inside him. A hard surf session or a fast ride might fill it, but he couldn’t do either until his leg healed. He put the joint in his pocket, remembering his last motorcycle ride with Brooke. He could still feel her arms around his waist and her breasts pressed against his back, her taut thighs squeezing his.

He had to get out of here.

Grabbing his belongings, he left the room. His dad was out front, probably ready to go. Brooke was sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of orange juice. He couldn’t leave the cabin without saying goodbye to her.

Their eyes locked over the rim of her glass. A private conversation would be better, so he inclined his head toward the side door. She got up and followed him to the patio. It was a small space with a round table and a couple of cushy lounge chairs. He squinted at the glare of sunlight on the table’s beveled glass surface.

Brooke was unusually grim. She didn’t smile or flirt or tease. All of the playfulness had been sucked out of their relationship. “Are you heading back to L.A.?”

He nodded. “You?”

“San Diego.”

“When do your classes start?”

“Three weeks.”

“Same for me.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“I think I’ll give those open plane tickets to Ella and Paul for their honeymoon,” she said. “Unless you want to use them.”

He’d forgotten her offer to take him jet-setting. That was ruined, too. “No.”

She raked a hand through her hair. It was damp from the shower. She’d changed into cutoffs and a thin T-shirt with no bra. He tore his gaze from her chest, his heart thumping. If he didn’t get away from her, he was going to do something he’d regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

She seemed to expect a different response, or a better explanation, but he couldn’t give her one. He was too emotional right now, too confused. Seeing her with Wyatt
had
hurt him. Sleeping with her had been a mistake.

The best thing to do was walk away. Make a clean break.

They could repair their relationship and be close again. In a few months, he’d be able to restrain himself. They could talk and cuddle without tearing each other’s clothes off. At this point, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even stand next to her without picturing her naked and aching to touch her.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

She flinched at his obvious attempt to end the conversation. “Okay,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “Take care.”

“I will.”

They often said
I love you
before parting ways. He knew she meant it as a friend or a sister. Today, she didn’t say it.

Neither did he.

* * *

N
ATHAN
LOADED
UP
his belongings, preparing to leave.

Ray had rented the cabin for the entire week, but no one wanted to stay. Too many bad things had happened here. By midafternoon, only the original four remained. Leo came outside with his backpack, looking miserable. Nathan assumed Brooke was the reason. Leo’s fury over Wyatt went beyond big-brother protectiveness.

“You ready to go?”

Leo leaned against the passenger door of Nathan’s car, nodding.

“Okay, give me a minute.”

Before Nathan could walk back in, Abby and Brooke stepped out. They were all hitting the road at the same time, it seemed.

“Do you need to get something?” Abby asked.

“I was just going to say goodbye.”

She hid a smile, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear before she turned to lock the front door. Brooke surprised him with a full-body embrace. He was touched by the gesture. Over the past few days, he’d grown attached to Brooke. She released him and stepped away to give them some privacy.

Abby was still wearing the soft purple dress from the previous night. She’d reapplied her makeup and braided her hair. A pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head. Her face was more relaxed than it had been during the camping trip. There were still issues to sort through and problems to worry about, but the situation no longer seemed dire. They were alive. The kidnappers were accounted for.

Nathan was eager to pick up where he and Abby left off in his hotel room. He couldn’t wait to take her home. With a start, he realized that he wanted her by his side...permanently. He was in love with her.

The epiphany didn’t unsettle him as much as it should have. He hadn’t fallen for her at first sight, but they’d clicked immediately. They had similar backgrounds and life experiences. She’d become his partner in survival. It seemed as if he’d known her forever because they’d been through so much together.

Nathan had always been goal-oriented and up for a challenge. Now that he’d recognized his feelings, he could focus on winning Abby over. He’d have to go slow. She might share her body without reservations, but she wasn’t as free and easy with her affections. Earning her trust wouldn’t be a simple task.

“I want to see you again,” he said.

A flush crept up her slender throat. “Okay.”

“This weekend?”

She glanced at Brooke, her top priority. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest, sighing heavily.

“It doesn’t have to be just the two of us,” Nathan said.

Instead of answering, Abby took out her cell phone and requested his number. After he gave her the digits, she sent him a quick text. He glanced at his screen to read it.
Call me.
Satisfied, he put his phone away. He wanted to kiss her, but he restrained himself. She might not be comfortable with a possessive display.

Abby gave Leo the keys to the cabin so he could return for his motorcycle. She thanked him for everything he’d done for Brooke. He nodded, avoiding Brooke’s gaze. Brooke kept her distance, for once.

After they left, Nathan climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. He was glad this vacation from hell was over. In addition to multiple life-or-death situations, there had been enough family drama to “choke a goat,” as his father used to say. But he’d also found Abby and reconnected with Leo.

Things were looking up.

Leo shook a tablet out of his prescription bottle and popped it into his mouth, taking a swig of his energy drink. Nathan didn’t think the pills were as awesome as Leo claimed, because they seemed to have a very mild effect. Leo hadn’t been sluggish during the fight with Wyatt earlier this morning.

“What did your mother say?”

“She’s not leaving Ray. He agreed to marriage counseling.”

Nathan didn’t criticize the decision. Therapy had saved his life. “Maybe everything will work out.”

“Only if he gets a personality transplant.”

“You don’t have to live with them, you know. My door’s always open.”

“I’m nineteen,” he said, scowling. “I can move out on my own.”

Nathan had a pretty good idea why he hadn’t done that. Daredevil surfer or not, Leo was a real mama’s boy. It was one of his most endearing qualities. “I noticed some tension between you and Brooke.”

Leo stared at the tree-lined road, his eyes narrow.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Let’s talk about you and Abby instead. Did you put those condoms to good use?”

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