The front door closed, and Cassie rested her head against the wood for several precious seconds. Finally. Bedtime. She was going to pass out in her bed and not open her eyes for a full twelve hours.
She turned to see Mrs. Alder cleaning the living room. Usually, she’d offer to help, because even though she didn’t like the woman, she’d been raised with manners. But tonight, she was just too dang tired.
“Good night, Mrs. Alder.”
The woman lifted her head and gave her an assessing look. “Good night.” Then she got back to work.
Cassie could have laughed. She should probably be used to the woman’s calculated glances, but something told her she’d never get there.
A smile played at her lips as she started up the stairs. She’d had one job tonight—confirm Olive was still good for Wednesday—and she’d done it. Her years of misery were finally about to pay off.
She yawned as she reached the top of the stairs, heading to her bedroom. She took one step into the room—and stopped.
No Damien. Strange. When he disappeared as she closed the front door, she’d assumed he’d gone upstairs, just as exhausted as she was from hosting people he didn’t trust.
She moved over to the connected bathroom and stuck her head inside. Nope.
“Damien?” she called out. A moment of silence passed. Nothing.
Very strange. Maybe he was in the kitchen helping Mrs. Alder, and she’d just missed him.
She moved over to the dresser mirror and sat, watching her reflection as she removed her earrings. Wednesday could be her last day here. Her last day in this house, pretending to care about an organization for which she had nothing but resentment.
Would Detective Shaw move that quickly? Would he arrest Elijah and his brothers and anyone else involved on the same day? That was a question she needed to ask him. Her gaze shot to the bathroom. Her burner phone sat hidden in there. It was how she communicated with the detective.
Then another question popped into her head. One that was equal parts exciting and nerve-racking. Once she was out—what then?
Would she return to him? Just show up at his house and say, “Sorry about the whole marrying another guy thing, but here I am…”
Aidan. The name was a whisper in her head.
She’d never forget that feeling of seeing him on the news. Elijah didn’t allow members to have TVs or radios in their homes. She’d been out to dinner with Damien when she’d looked up at the TV mounted in the corner, and there he’d been, on the screen.
She’d been so shocked, she stopped breathing. Damien told her later that she’d gone so white, he’d thought she was going to pass out. Every part of her had wanted to go to Aidan. God, it had been like a physical pull on her limbs. But she couldn’t, not only because they always had eyes on her, but because it would have ruined everything.
So she’d forced herself to stay here in Utah, all the while expecting him to come to her. To ask her why she’d married another man. To find out what the hell was going on.
But you never came.
She dropped the earring to the dresser and closed her eyes before touching the necklace under her dress. The necklace Aidan had given her on their anniversary, the week before he’d left on that final mission. On the pendant was a common hackberry tree. The tree was their place. The site of so many memories. It was where they’d shared their first kiss. Where he’d first said he loved her. And where he’d given her this necklace.
She still remembered the moment he’d slid it around her neck. The kisses he’d pressed to her skin as he whispered in her ear.
“The tree is one of the toughest in the US. It can survive strong winds. Pollution. Drought. Heat.” She touched the spot where he’d kissed her neck. “It can survive whatever the world throws at it. Just like us.”
Her eyes flashed open. He hadn’t counted on Project Arma. And she hadn’t counted on Mia running back to the cult.
A shudder rippled down her spine.
For a moment, she wondered what would happen when he saw her again. How would he look at her? With anger? Resentment that she’d married someone else? What if he was dating another woman? Or worse, also married? The idea had shards of ice puncturing the lining of her stomach. He had every right to date and marry, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Blowing out a long breath, she rose to her feet. Yep. She was definitely lightheaded.
Quickly, she reached for the hem of her dress, but before she could tug it off, something sounded from another room. It was the floorboard beneath the window in the guest bedroom. She knew it well, because she’d stepped on it many times.
Frowning, she dropped her hands and stepped into the hall. “Damien?”
Silence.
The fine hairs on her arms stood on end, and an uneasy feeling began to churn in her gut. Someone had definitely stepped on the floorboard, but if it was Damien, he would have answered her call.
Her head swam with the need to lie down, but she pushed through the dizziness and moved forward.
“Hello?”
Nothing. Not even a whisper of sound. Slowly, she opened the guest bedroom door.
A cool breeze hit her skin. Her gaze zipped across to the open window. Had Damien left it like that? Maybe an animal had jumped in. They got a lot of squirrels around here.
She stepped into the room.
An arm suddenly curved around her waist. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. The hold wasn’t rough, but it was firm and strong. Impenetrable.
Heat pressed to her back.
For a second, she was so shocked that she went completely still. Then the man tugged her toward the window. Holy crap, was he going to throw her out of a second-floor window?
Fear snapped Cassie out of her shock, and she acted. She struggled against the body behind her, shoving her elbows back into him, stomping on his feet. But the guy didn’t so much as grunt at her attempts.
Her fingers brushed against something cold. A knife strapped to his thigh. She yanked the weapon out before bending her elbows and aiming it for the asshole’s shoulder. He quickly dodged the blow and reached for the knife.
The second his arm released her waist, she tried to twist her body, but the hand on her mouth kept her head in place. The knife disappeared and the arm returned around her.
No! She couldn’t let him take her!
She pulled and twisted against the hold, and even as darkness edged her vision, she continued to fight. Even as the last scraps of her energy fled.
She wouldn’t stop. Not until she passed out cold with the effort.
The darkness almost consumed her—then she heard a whisper in her ear.
“Stop fighting me, Cass.”
Her limbs froze. That voice… A voice that had haunted her for so long. Drowned her in her dreams.
“You’re safe.”
More hauntingly familiar words. Then the world went black.
Aidan parked the car outside the cabin. He’d swapped cars twice on the way here and watched the rearview mirror the entire drive. There had been no tail, so even if on the off chance whoever was watching Cassie through those cameras at her house had inexplicably recognized him through the ski mask, there was no way they’d find him here. Cassie was safe from whatever was going on. At least for now.
He turned his head, and for a moment, just watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept in the back seat. At each car change, he’d checked her heart rate and breathing. It had been even. He was used to her fainting spells, and he knew that when her body was ready, she would wake up. Didn’t mean he liked it, though. Each and every time, it scared the hell out of him. Like it did right now.
He climbed out of the car. Before going to Cass, he moved to the cabin door and unlocked and opened it. Then he returned and reached for her in the back. The second she was against him, a war raged in his soul. A war between wanting to distance himself from the woman, and tugging her even closer.
The smell of wildflowers mixed with vanilla hit him like a freight train. For a moment, his breath stopped, and he was thrust back to a different time. A time when she was his. A time when upon waking, she nestled into him.
Fuck. He needed to shut it down. The woman was married to another goddamn man. Had been married to him for over two years. Sleeping in his bed. Waking up with him.
A dark jealousy tinged with rage began to simmer inside him. That’s what he needed to hold on to. That was better than the desire. Rage was a familiar emotion. And it was a hell of a lot easier to navigate.
He made his way up to the cabin. It was cold, and when a gust of wind hit them, a small moan slipped from her lips, and she snuggled into his chest.
Instinctively, he tugged her closer.
Stepping inside, he strode through the living room and straight into the only bedroom at the back of the house, then lay her on the bed. The second he pulled the covers over her, she rolled into a ball and pulled up her legs. She’d always done that. And once upon a time, he’d pulled her against his body and held her.
Shit. He needed to stop. Stop remembering everything he’d forced himself to forget.
With gritted teeth, he moved over to the fireplace. Focus on that, Aidan. Focus on warming the place up, and not on her.
There were two fireplaces, one in the living room and one in the bedroom. The team had made sure the place was fully stocked with firewood, food, and water. There were enough supplies that they could hole up here for a month if needed.
He got to work on the fire, but the entire time, her soft breaths sounded through the quiet space, calling to him. Her heartbeat, which he hadn’t been able to hear when they were together, now beat loudly thanks to his enhanced hearing.
He’d thought Project Arma would be the most painful experience of his life. It wasn’t. It was returning to his family and being told by his mother that Cassie had married Damien six months into his disappearance.
The pain… Fuck, it had been like nothing else. He’d rather take ten bullets to the gut than be told that news again.
Once the fire was set up, he lit the kindling. The flames danced in front of him. Then he turned and looked at her again, because how could he not? It was Cassie. His Cassie. The woman he’d vowed to marry. The only woman he’d ever loved.
He drew closer, and like his hand had a mind of its own, he reached down and brushed a strand of hair from her face. God, her skin was still just as soft as ever.
A soft hum slipped from her. Then a whisper.
“Aidan…”
His breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name on her lips. No one said his name like her. Not a single damn person. Why had she said it? Because she’d recognized his voice before passing out tonight? Or because she recognized his touch just now?
He was tugging his hand away when she reached out and latched onto his wrist. Her eyes didn’t open, and her breathing didn’t change. But that touch… It sent an arrow from his hand right into his chest.
He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.
The hand on his arm grew slack. Dropped away.
The warmth where she’d touched dissipated and turned cold. Then his phone rang from his pocket. Cursing under his breath, he stepped out of the room to answer it.
“Callum. Everything all right?”
The guys had followed him halfway, making sure they were safe and no one followed. Then they’d separated.
“Everything’s fine on my end. You get to the location okay?”
Depended on what okay meant. He sure as hell didn’t feel okay. His blood was rushing through his veins way too fast. “Yep. We’re here.”
There was a small pause. “We ran the plates.”
Aidan’s fingers tightened on the phone. They’d taken note of the license plate of every guest at her house, and the guys back in Cradle Mountain were tasked with running them.
“And?”
Callum exhaled loudly. “You’re not going to like this.”
