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Finn grins. ‘He’s a good guard dog anyway. But any sign of danger, you shout for me, okay? Or scream. You’re good at that.’ He nudges me playfully. ‘And watch yourself around my gun collection, okay, Calamity Jane?’
I giggle and pull on my top.
‘Think I’ll hold onto this one for now, though,’ he says, motioning toward the revolver tucked into the back of his shorts. I’d forgotten he still had that thing. Good job we didn’t accidentally set it off during that explosive session. ‘Much as I loved seeing you pointing that thing at that trophy hunter back there, I think we ought to give you a couple lessons before you go waving it around anymore.’
‘You going to teach me?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Oh, I’m going to teach youall sorts of things,’ he says gruffly.
I can’t tell if this is just witty repartee, or if he reallyisgoing to teach me how to fire a gun. And I honestly don’t know whether he’ll be driving me back to Denver tonight or not. There’s a time to ask these sorts of questions, though. And that time just doesn’t feel like now.
Now that we’re all dressed, we head carefully off the ledge, and I try not to look down at the waterfall as we climb down, for fear of tumbling into the water. At least my ankle is feeling better now. In fact, the forest air seems to have healed me up quickly. I feel almost as good as new, and ready for another round or ten of lovemaking this afternoon once Finn returns.
‘I’ll only be gone an hour,’ says Finn. ‘I just want to check on that westerly wind, make sure this gray sky doesn’t turn into anything nasty.’
I nod. ‘Don’t you worry about me, cowboy. I’ll be fine.’
The cabin is in view now. Finn needs to turn right, to go up the hill to the watchtower, but he stops, and lingers by my side for just a moment.
‘What happened back there, sweetie…’ he says.
I wait, wondering what he’s going to say next, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling, my skin prickling with goosebumps. ‘Yes?’
His blue eyes look down at me. His hands rest firmly upon my shoulders. His lips part, ready to bare his soul to me.
And then he seems to think better of it. His expression changes, from one of great sincerity, to one of unbridled lust.
‘Brace yourself for Round Two,’ he growls.
Okay. So it’s not quite the declaration of undying affection I might have been looking for. But it still makes my heart skip a beat.
Finn heads up the hill and I head for the cabin. Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s an email from Violet. Must have got a little reception up near the waterfall.
‘I’m so sorry I haven’t told you about the inheritance before now, Addison. Didn’t want that scumbag getting his hands on it. Finn told me the situation. Please look after yourself. I’m going to get an earlier flight back. Trying to change my booking to a flight early next week. In the meantime, I’m going to transfer some money into your account right away. This is only a tenth of the full amount. I can release more when you need it. Don’t spend it all at once ;) Vee x’
I open up my online banking app and take a look. This can’t be right.Ten thousand dollars?And that’s atenthof the full amount? I always got the sense that my father was thrifty, that he kept a lot of his fortune stashed away, only splashing the cash when he absolutelyhad to, but this… it’s enough to live on for an entire year, if I’m careful.
I watch Finn disappearing up the hill, wondering whether to call after him and tell him what’s just happened, but I decide to keep it to myself for now. If he knows how much money is sitting in my account, maybe he’ll send me off to Denver right away, knowing what kind of protection that money could buy me.
Still, it’s good news. Whatever happens now, I feel a little safer. I walk up to the cabin door, humming softly under my breath.
When I open the cabin door, I spot Eric, sitting a couple yards behind the door. He’s looking up at me, growling, his ears pinned back.
‘What is it, boy?’ I ask. ‘You alright?’
He looks over to the kitchen, still growling, and I stop dead in my tracks.
‘Chris?’
He’s standing behind the kitchen counter, helping himself to one of the beers I bought in that grocery store Westcreek on my first full day here. The beer that’s been sitting in the fridge untouched since I decided I didn’t want to drink alcohol in front of Finn.
It’s Chris, but it’s not the Chris I knew. The Chris I knew had neat black hair, steady brown eyes, and a slim, athletic physique.ThisChris, Chris 2.0, is so skinny I can practically see his skull beneath his paper-thin skin. His black hair has grown long and lank, curling just below his ears. He has large black rings under his dark brown — almost black — eyes, and a crazed look about him. In short, he looks terrible. More than terrible.
‘Oh look. It’s my little freak,’ he says, smiling.
Ugh. I used to hate it when he called me that. What a creep.
‘I’m glad you’re alone. Gives us a chance to catch up.’
