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“Roger that, boss. Meet you at the station. Over.” My second man in charge replied. The radio static grew.
“I have to make a stop, but I’ll be at the station soon. Over and out.” I turned the radio down and replaced it on my uniform. I drove straight to the Shadow Lodge. The poacher was too close. I had to get Rebecca out.
I pounded on the door of Rebecca's cabin, my breaths heavy and my body shaking from adrenaline. “Becca!”
“What the hell Connor?” she asked and stepped aside to let me in. The warmth of the woodstove was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside, but it did little to soothe my frayed nerves.
"Becca, we need to go!" I shouted, scanning the room. My gaze lingered on her tousled hair and the way her shirt hung off one shoulder. A surge of desire ran through me despite the urgency of the situation.
"Connor, what the hell is going on?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Listen, Scooter," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “We spotted a dangerous poacher out there, and he's close. Too close. I need you to come back to the station with me, now.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I could see the stubborn resolve forming in them. "No. This is supposed to be my relaxing wilderness retreat, Connor. You can't just barge in here, fuck me, and then tell me what to do."
"Damn it, Becca! This isn't about that," I snapped, clenching my fists. "There's real danger out there. I can't protect you if I'm patrolling for The Hunter and worrying about you being out here alone."
“Newsflash, Connor: I don't need your protection,” she retorted, her words like ice as they cut through the heated air between us. "I've survived on my own before, and I'll do it again. Go play hero somewhere else."
"Stubborn as a fucking mule," I muttered, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "You're not even giving me a choice here, Becca. I promised Matt I'd keep you safe, and I'm not willing to risk your life because of your damn pride!"
“Then don't," she shot back, her hazel eyes blazing with defiance. "I never asked for you to be my guardian angel, Connor. I can handle myself just fine.”
"Fine!" I spat, the anger boiling inside of me. “Stay here, if that's what you want. But don't expect me to come running when shit hits the fan.”
With one last seething look at Rebecca, I stormed out of the cabin, leaving her behind as I trudged back into the storm. As much as I hated it, I had a job to do—and The Hunter wasn't going to wait around while I argued with an infuriatingly stubborn woman.
But even as I stalked back to my vehicle, my thoughts were consumed by Rebecca. I couldn't shake the guilt or the fear that gnawed at me, nor could I deny the magnetic pull she had on me.
Was I making the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her behind?
10
Rebecca
The sound of rain pounding against the cabin roof was relentless, like an army of angry drummers. I stomped around the small kitchen space, slamming pots and pans onto the stove with enough force to make them rattle. Who did Matt think he was—ordering Connor to take care of me? And Connor? What an ass. Like the only reason he was around was because my brother asked him.
My anger toward Matt and Connor threatened to bubble over like the chili on the stove. I turned the heat down.
“Couldn't let me have my independence, could they?” I muttered under my breath as I sauteed an onion with unnecessary vigor. “No, they had to send Captain America here to protect poor, helpless Rebecca.”
Steam rose from the pot, joining the chorus of drips and drops that echoed throughout the cabin. I should have been grateful for their concern, but I'd spent my life trying to break free from the protective shadow of my older brother, and now his best friend was just another link in that chain.
"Damn it," I muttered when a particularly large drop of water splashed into my saucepan, threatening to ruin dinner. I looked up at the source of the leak, glaring at the ceiling as if it had personally offended me.
The pitter-patter of water dripping from the ceiling and pooling on the floor was like a constant reminder of how out of control everything felt. Each drip was a tiny, cold shock, making me flinch involuntarily as they found their way onto my skin or into whatever I was cooking.
"Stupid cabin," I grumbled, grabbing a towel to mop up the growing puddle on the floor. The dampness clung oppressively to the air. Even the scent of the waterlogged wood seemed to taunt me—earthy, musty, and altogether too close for comfort. I used the remaining pots and pans to catch the various leaks but at this rate, I’d have to empty them every thirty minutes.
Frustrated and hungry I continued prepping the chili beans.
As I went about preparing the meal, my thoughts kept returning to Connor. It wasn't fair that he was here, all brooding and handsome, making my heart race when I was trying to escape the complications of love. And it certainly wasn't fair that he had been tasked with babysitting me when all I wanted was some damn peace and quiet.
"Fuck, this place sucks," I let out a cry of frustration, slamming the cupboard door shut with a little more force than necessary.
If only they could see me now—braving the elements and fighting off cabin leaks like some sort of woodland warrior. Surely, that was proof enough that I didn't need anyone to look out for me. Although Connor's presence wasn't entirely unwelcome.
Nope, no more of those thoughts. Stirring the sauce with renewed determination, I refused to let my feelings for Connor distract me from the purpose of this trip: to get centered and release my past baggage also known as bosshole ex-boyfriend, Tom.
