Page 81 of Weight of Guilt

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Why had they stopped? Had something in the woods caused it? Or was her imagination working overtime?

They started back up a few seconds later.

Wren released the breath she held. But the uneasy feeling didn’t leave her.

Suddenly, being out here seemed like a bad idea.

She glanced back inside. Nash had opened another door.

He’d have to open all of them. She kept every door in that cabin shut. It was habit, she supposed.

It couldn’t hurt just to step inside the front door. Out here, she felt so exposed, like unseen eyes were watching her.

With one last glance at the woods, she stepped inside. She blew out a breath, already feeling safer.

But the moment didn’t last long.

She glanced beside her at the closet door.

It was slightly ajar.

Nash hadn’t touched it. She’d watched him as he went inside.

And she always shut that door.

Her mouth went dry as she stared at it. “Nash . . .”

Before she could say more, the shadows inside the closet shifted.

Someone was in there, she realized.

As soon as the thought hit her, the shadow—a man—rushed out.

He shoved past her, and she teetered backward.

Her hip hit the floor first. Then her elbow.

The man darted outside, but left a terrible truth behind.

Someone had been inside her cabin.

Chapter

Forty

Nash heard the commotion from the back bedroom and darted into the hallway.

Wren sprawled on the floor, her hand on her hip and distress on her face.

Nash’s pulse thundered in his ears.

“Wren.” He rushed forward and knelt beside her. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

She nodded before pulling in a ragged breath. “I’m fine. Nash, go. Someone was hiding in the closet. You’ve got to catch him.”

He froze a moment. Every second he spent here was fifty yards farther away that man could get.

But if he left Wren and he was wrong about her injuries, he’d be living with that decision too.