AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I give a little shrug. “I try.”
“You succeed,” he says, sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in all this.”
“You didn’t,” I say. “You tried to warn me. I didn’t listen.”
“I should have tried harder. Once this mess is smoothed over, I promise I’ll stay far away from you. No matter what.”
“Okay,” I say softly, trying not to let the fact that my stomach is bottoming out show on my face. Matty’s made it clear he doesn’t share my feelings. The quicker I wrap my stubborn head around that, the better.
But it still hurts.
It hurts the entire drive back down the gravel road, across miles and miles of smooth pavement, and back onto gravel again. But at least my calls to Gram and Aaron go smoothly—Gram clearly thinks I’m going on a spontaneous fornication vacation with Sam, no matter how many times I assure her that I’m actually headed to Chicago, and Aaron says it won’t be a problem to take leave. He has a couple days off from practice already, so he plans to fly in from Iowa tonight, rent a car, and be at our house by midnight, before the storm he says is bearing down on the region.
After I hang up with my brother, I briefly consider telling Matty about the storm, but he probably already knows. And I doubt it would change his mind about the whole “treehouse” thing anyway. Matty is nearly as stubborn as I am.
A relationship between us was doomed from the start.
It’s for the best that we’ve decided to go our separate ways.
Or so I tell myself as he winds the SUV up a progressively tinier dirt road into the forested foothills an hour from Bad Dog. But it doesn’t feel for the best. It feels like a terrible waste of potential with a man I still believe I can save from the lesser angels of his nature…if only he’d give me the chance.
Please, Universe, he’s a great guy. At least give me the chance to help him get back on the right path, even if I never see him again after all this is over.
The universe answers me immediately, with a view of a creepy-looking tunnel around the next bend.
Before I can tell Matty that I’m terrified of dark, enclosed spaces, he accelerates right into the center of it.
Chapter Four
MATTY
I’m so focused on getting to the compound before we run out of daylight and running through a mental list of things I need to grab from the bunker, that I don’t realize Nora’s upset until I’ve parked the SUV under the trees and swung out to open her door.
It’s only then that I see her paper white face and haunted eyes and clock that something’s wrong.
“What is it?” I ask, my brow furrowing. “Are you carsick? That last stretch is pretty rough. I could have stopped if you’d told me.”
She gives a tiny shake of her head. “No, it’s nothing. Just…the dark. The tunnel. Not a fan.” She hands the now wakeful and mewling Clyde over to me with stiff arms. “I just need to walk around for a few minutes. Shake it off.”
“Okay but stay close. In this general area. I’ll come get you once I have Clyde settled in the treehouse.” I gather the cat against my chest, where he promptly belches loud enough to send a flock of birds exploding from the branches of a nearby tree.
Nora flinches in response, making me worry all over again. In some ways, she’s such a strong person—caring for her grandmother all alone, running a thriving business, and pushing herself to get over her fear of animals—but in other ways, she’s so fragile.
Which is all the more reason to make sure she stays far away from me. Even when I leave the CIA, I don’t intend to play it safe. I want to get out in the world, test my limits, figure out who I am away from my family and my all-consuming career. I need to sort all that out before I’ll be a good partner to anyone, especially a woman with as many fears and phobias as Nora.
I gather the supplies I bought for Clyde and my emergency pack from the trunk and head down the path toward the treehouse, leaving Nora walking in circles in the gravel parking area. Almost instantly, the rush of the cool breeze through the forest and the smell of fall leaves decomposing underfoot eases the tension from my neck and shoulders. I may have a big brain, but I’ve always been more comfortable in the woods than in an office.
This is where I belong—out in nature, off the grid, where I can hear myself think. And Nora belongs in a five-star resort with room service and staff to keep the leaves out of the pool. She’d be miserable in my van, waking up sandy and cold on some faraway beach, and I’d be miserable staying in Bad Dog, living with the legacy of all the lies I’ve been forced to tell.
We’re a classic case of opposites attracting. The sex—if we’d gotten to that point—probably would have been fantastic, but a happily-ever-after is impossible.
Better to end it now before either one of us is scarred by the experience.
I’m still thinking about scars when Nora screams loud enough to make Clyde hiss and run to hide under the dingy couch in the treehouse’s main room.
Instantly, I shut the stove door on the fire I just started and hurry down the ladder.
I don’t call out to assure Nora I’m on my way—if she’s being attacked by a person, I don’t want to lose the element of surprise—but I run faster than I have in years, pushing myself to get to her before whatever’s frightened her hurts a hair on her perfect head. And yes, I’m hoping that it’s something as relatively benign as a horny squirrel or a cranky cat, but I’m ready to fight off a bear if I have to. I even have bear spray in the glove compartment. As long as the animal isn’t blocking the SUV, I should be able to get to it in a few seconds.
