Mountain Man Daddy Page 3

  “You’re sick,” she spat. It was only ten in the morning, and Alex poured another two fingers of scotch into his glass. He never drank. She closed her eyes. But of course, she didn’t really know him—not the real him. When she opened them, her gaze fell on the gun tucked into the couch. Why did he have a gun?

  “Perhaps, but I will say you’re the closest I’ve come to loving someone other than myself.” He touched her face a moment before she stumbled back a few steps. He shrugged indifferently. “You’ll be fine, mouse. Just keep your mouth shut about the money and have a good life.”

  “I don’t get it,” she added, noting the dark circles under his eyes. Had he slept at all since she’d kicked him out a week ago?

  “What don’t you get?”

  “Why’d you ask me here? I kicked you out. It’s over. I’m done with your shit.”

  He smiled, again without humor, shook his head and grabbed her hand. He took her into his bedroom and then his smile became genuine.

  “One last time, mouse? For old time’s sake.” He had been her first—her only—the man she’d clung to after a loveless existence. But she’d be damned if he touched her again. It was over and the marriage had been nothing more than a fantasy.

  She narrowed her eyes and he sighed in exasperation.

  “I thought—”

  A crash in the living room silenced them both. Alex grabbed her by the shoulders, startling her. His eyes were wild, and his chest heaved.

  “Get in the closet and don’t make a sound,” he whispered frantically. The fear in his eyes made her gut twist, and her heart beat in a frenzy. He shoved her in amongst his clothes. “Please, mouse, no matter what happens, don’t come out.”

  Hidden amongst his expensive clothes, some of which smelled like his cologne, curled with her knees to her chest, she looked up at him.

  “I lied, mouse. I do love you. I did a bad thing. Shit, many bad things, but you were the one good thing. Remember that.” He shut the closet, and she saw him through the slats as he jumped onto his bed feigning sleep.

  “Get up, dickbag.” A man in black leather kicked the end of the bed. “Get the fuck up. We gave you enough time. Now we’re gonna have some fun.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder at his partner. Avery saw his coal black eyes and yellow teeth, and as his lips spread into a cruel smile, a scar rippled along the side of his cheek. It was knitted tight and puckered. Shivers erupted through her body. Hair as dark as his eyes stuck out from under his ball cap and when his leather jacket opened, the black metal from the butt of a gun tucked in his belt pulled her eyes. She peeked at the other man and saw someone equally terrifying. A muscled Mr. Clean type with a little patch of ginger hair under his bottom lip, and a tattoo of a snake slithering up his thick bulging neck.

  “Grab the rope from the truck, Moe.” He zeroed in on Alex again. “And the knives.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Better bring something to muffle his screams, too.” The chuckle that followed made her stomach roll.

  “I’ll go to the cops, Eddie.” Alex grabbed his cell off the nightstand, and the leather-clad man took the floor lamp at his side and smashed Alex’s hand. There was a sickening crunch before his scream.

  “You know he is the cops, right, dickhead?” Eddie pointed over his shoulder at Moe. “Who do you think they’ll believe, you or an undercover badge? Like I told ya before, give us our money or die. Plain and simple. You didn’t give us our money, so now you die.” He took a tiny metal box out of his pocket. Avery didn’t dare move to get a better look, but he put it to his mouth and smoke clouded around him. The sickly sweet smell told her it was a vaping cigarette.

  “Please, just another week. I’ll get it. Damn it, Eddie. I promise!”

  “Too late, Alex. Too late.” He walked around in a slow circle drawing on his e-cigarette.

  “But if you kill me you’ll never get the money.”

  “Yeah?” He paused and spun to look directly at Alex. “I think we will.” He took another pull of sweet vapor and chuckled. “As soon as we’re done with you, we’re heading to see your little woman. We’ll show her we mean business and we’ll get our money. We’ve been watching her. She’s a sweet piece of ass, Alex. I think my cock wants a taste of her.” Avery covered her mouth and locked the scream in her throat. “In fact, it wants that taste so bad I’m tired of talking to you.” He pulled out his gun…

  Avery woke with a pounding heart but remained still. She didn’t want to alert anyone that she was awake. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on the burly, bearded lumberjack sleeping in the chair beside her bed, but she’d known he’d be there. He was always there, every time Avery opened her eyes. She had no concept of where she was or how long she’d been there, but the one constant was his presence.

  His black and red checkered coat was no longer soaked in her blood, and the black t-shirt that hugged his muscled chest, shoulders, and biceps was different, so she figured he’d left to change his clothes at some point. Her eyes roamed over his crossed arms and up to his bearded chin, which rested on his chest. His breathing was deep and steady, so she took the opportunity to examine him further.

  His toque was off now, and he’d tucked his dark blond hair behind his ears, but several wavy pieces had slipped free and lay against his collarbone. Avery stared, noting his full lips, partially hidden by his unkempt reddish blond facial hair, were parted slightly. She remembered focusing on them and his stormy blue eyes when he spoke sternly to her during her rescue. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled his strict expression when he forced her to help him hold his belt over her leg wound.

  She should feel grateful, but she didn’t. The lumberjack had only prolonged her agony. She’d overheard the nurse tell him she was out of medical danger. She’d needed eight stitches in her head and another twelve in her thigh, but once she got her strength back, she’d be fine. Except whenever she woke, they peppered her with questions, mainly focusing on her name. She’d pretend to fall asleep whenever they pestered, but she knew that wouldn’t work for long. She had to escape. If they found out her name and the authorities came asking questions, they’d all be in jeopardy.

  Avery’s eyes darted around the room looking for an escape. She wasn’t where they’d originally worked on her. They’d moved her to another small room—one with a proper bed, nightstand, window, and a small bathroom off to the side. Her eyes swung back to the window. It held promise, she decided, but then she glanced back to the man at her side.

  Escape was trickier with the lumberjack holding bedside vigil. He woke every time she stirred. She shifted in the bed, and the man’s eyes popped open just as she knew they would. She cocked her brow in annoyance.

  “Morning,” she muttered grumpily. When his eyes speared hers, her belly dipped.

  “What was that?” he asked. His dark blond brows knitted and a wrinkle creased the spot between his eyes before he scrubbed his hands over his face. She swallowed hard, but the dry patch in her throat made her choke.

  “Here.” He sat forward, instantly alert and grabbed the water on her bedside table. His neck cracked as he brushed the straw against her lips. Sleeping in the chair had to be awful. He got the straw in her mouth, and she took a long pull. Why on earth wouldn’t he go home and stay there?

  “That a girl,” he crooned. “Drink up.” His chair scraped the floor as he shifted closer, grabbing the bowl off the nightstand. As soon as he took the straw out of her mouth, she clenched her jaw, knowing what he was going to do.

  He set the cup back and rolled his shoulders before grabbing the spoon next to it. Avery watched his arms and chest stretch the black t-shirt further. He was handsome but rugged, scruffy, and wild looking—a bit too dangerous to challenge too much.

  “Why?” she croaked and then cleared her throat. “Why are you still here?”

  His eyes narrowed as he scanned her face.

  “Because you asked me not to leave you.”

  She blinked. Had she?

  “What’
s your name?” He cocked his head slightly when she didn’t answer and grabbed her hip as she started rolling away. Her stomach dropped again. “Tell me your name.”

  “Tired,” she said. “My name is tired.” And with that, she closed her eyes.

  “Sit up and eat.” His impatient tone told her it wasn’t a request and when she opened her eyes, his mouth was a firm line, underscoring the idea. “You’re weak and need to build your strength.”

  She sighed forcefully, and his jaw tightened, making her swallow any sass she’d been considering. His finger drummed the bowl, so she shifted up. He nodded his approval and used her pillows to prop her up farther. She noticed she wasn’t as achy as she’d been before.

  Frowning, Avery scrunched her nose when he scooped up the pulpy oatmeal from the bowl and aimed the spoon at her mouth.

  “I don’t need to be fed.”

  “If that were true you’d have eaten on your own the last week.” His stern expression irritated her further.

  “I’m more than capable. I’m. Just. Not. Hungry—” He shoved the spoon in her mouth before she could close it over her final word. Then he pointed a long straight finger at her.

  “You even think about spitting that out, I swear to you, right here and now I will roll you over and paint your bratty backside red!”

  Her brows slammed down hard and she swallowed before sucking in an exaggerated breath, ready to blast him, even though his words made her feel something very different than anger. But when she opened her mouth, he was ready with another spoonful. She caught on and clamped her lips tight.

  Her reaction to his threat confused her. It was wrong to hit someone but when he threatened, it made her feel like he cared. She couldn’t remember the last time someone cared, but why the hell should he?

  “Little girl, you have approximately three seconds to open that mouth.” A vein in his forehead thickened. He meant business and as ridiculous as his threat was, Avery didn’t think for a second he wouldn’t follow through, especially since the nurse had said she was doing so well.

  She crossed her arms and stared hard at the ceiling, but dutifully opened her mouth. Anger over his bossiness, and the warm fluttering over his threat and referral to her as ‘little girl’ battled within her.

  “If I have to feed you all day like I’m your daddy, I will.”

  “You may as well be my daddy with the way you treat me.” Her words dripped venom, hiding the confusing twist of desire curling within her. He only smirked. Her cheeks heated and she knew he’d noticed.

  “Only since I found out you’ve mended up quite nicely. Now finish this oatmeal, and you won’t discover what Daddy’s hand feels like punishing your pretty little bottom.”

  Her eyes widened a second in alarm before the thought nuzzled in her like a purring cat. “You’d punish a poor injured girl?” she asked, furrowing her brow as his lifted.

  “You’d disobey the man trying to get you healthy again?”

  “Fine!” she said forcibly, her irritation more from her inability to process the feelings he was inducing.

  “That’s ‘Yes, Daddy,’” he said seriously. Her eyes rounded. He wasn’t joking. Her heart flipped at the need surging deep in her middle and the taboo of it.

  Chapter Three

  When he left her alone a few days later, she rose from her bed. She finally had some of her strength back and was going to use it for her first trip to the bathroom without Nurse Annie, and as a trial run for her escape plans. She cursed under her breath when Yukon walked in the bedroom just as she shut the washroom door.

  She sat and wondered how she was going to get out of this now. Her rescuer was getting less and less patient with her, as was the old nurse. Voices in the bedroom silenced her thoughts.

  “Annie, she’s got some sort of retrograde amnesia.”

  “You watched too many soaps with those RCMP boys in Ottawa, Yukon.” Annie laughed at his growl, before continuing. “It’s been over a week, and besides not remembering the actual accident, and maybe some of the events leading up to it, is one thing; not knowing your name is a whole ‘nother can of worms. That girl’s not telling us anything because she doesn’t want to. You’ll see.”

  When Avery was finished she leaned against the counter, not wanting to face either of them.

  “There’s a loose board on the chicken coop, and I’m worried about that cat. Can you take a look today? The girl’s fine on her own now. In fact, you don’t need to sleep here anymore.” Annie’s voice had taken on a growl that resembled Yukon’s, and if the situation weren’t so dire, Avery might have laughed. It was good to hear him getting scolded for once. “Why don’t you go on back to your mountain and leave us alone? I haven’t had a man here overnight since my husband died four years ago and I can’t say as I like it. You snore!”

  “No, I don’t. You just don’t like me keeping an eye on you.”

  Annie huffed. “I’m going to get my daughter to drop her off at the hospital if she keeps claiming amnesia. Nothing I can do about it, whether it’s truth or a lie. I was a nurse and not a psych one either. Even if Allan were alive, his prescription would be to ship her off for a psych eval.”

  “I’m no doctor, but I’d prescribe something different myself.” Yukon’s voice was low and severe, making Avery shiver, but Annie laughed again.

  “Don’t think I didn’t hear your threat, Yukon. I know exactly what you’d prescribe. Hell, I’ve felt like spanking her a few times myself.” Now it was Yukon’s turn to laugh, deep from his belly. Avery clenched her jaw. It wasn’t funny. His threat made her feel squirmy and vulnerable and way too aware of her womanhood.

  “Let’s go check on that coop.”

  Avery listened carefully, waiting for them to leave. When the door slapped shut, she knew her chance had come. Getting away while Yukon was distracted was her best bet, and it was especially urgent now with Annie planning on shipping her off. The hospital would probably involve the cops, and that was exactly what she wanted to avoid.

  Her clothes had been washed and hung in the closet, so she gingerly put them on, leaving the gown she’d been wearing on the bed. Her boots were under the chair Yukon had been occupying for the last week. She grabbed them quickly but it took longer to don them while she was weak. Nabbing Yukon’s jacket and toque sitting on the chair, she made her way through the house.

  Annie had chatted a lot over the week, so Avery had discovered Yukon had a cabin up the mountain three miles away. She’d also learned Annie’s husband had been a doctor, and they’d run the practice out of the farm for forty-seven years before he’d died. She had one daughter and she was almost as much of a recluse as Yukon. If Avery left now before anyone else got involved, she was confident no one would know she’d been there and Yukon and Annie would be safe.

  Avery’s strength waned quickly, so her best pace was slow and steady. She’d get back to the Jeep, grab her purse, and somehow get the hell out of New Brunswick before someone came sniffing around the broken guard rail looking for the wreck. She’d worry about the somehow later.

  * * *

  Mike came back inside and threw himself into the chair. He should have been at home. He kept telling himself as soon as she was out of danger he’d leave her, but every day he stayed, only going home to shower and check on the cabin and Rocky. Annie had even been feeding him. He supposed him being there was good for Annie, too. The old girl was slowing down, and there was a lot to do on the farm that she just didn’t have the strength for anymore.

  He looked at the bathroom door and grunted. In the bathroom, again? He glanced at the water glass on the nightstand and frowned. Still full. His instincts prodded him. Had she collapsed? But then he noticed his hat and coat were gone.

  Shit!

  He leaned forward to look under the chair. Damn it! How long had he and Annie been outside? Half an hour? No, it’d been longer than that, because he’d found several more things that needed repair, not to mention he’d mucked the stalls while Annie f
ed the animals. He’d been gone well over an hour, maybe closer to two.

  The girl would have a head start, but she’d be slow. Hell, she could barely walk to the bathroom without getting winded.

  “Annie, she’s gone. I’m going after her,” he said abruptly, and was out the door before Annie could answer. He patted his pockets as he got to the driveway and cursed. The damn keys to the ATV were in his coat pocket, but thankfully it was still there. He glanced left and right and shoved a hand through his hair before his eyes settled on the tire tracks. She’d follow them if she wanted to get back to the Jeep.

  He knew from the condition of the vehicle she’d been speeding. She’d mumbled a lot about a moose and cried, “Alex, I don’t want to die” the first few nights. He also knew she was not Tim Lester, the name on the ownership and insurance slip. Who was Tim, and how did the girl know him? Mike’s instincts had his mind back in cop mode working the facts.

  He’d taken her stuff out of the car in hopes of finding out who she was, but the only thing he’d found was a change of clothes, a gun, and a wad of cash. No ID, not even a license. That had his alarm bells ringing, but based on his years of experience in law enforcement, he didn’t peg her as a criminal either.

  Maybe he should have just handed her shit over to the New Brunswick PD and been done with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something about her made him hold off on that decision. He knew the kind of fear she faced. He could see it in her eyes. He’d lived through the same kind of fear, too. His only saviors had been Annie, the cabin, and Rocky.

  If there was anything he’d learned as a recluse, it was that deep down he still needed to be needed. And this girl needed him.

  * * *

  Avery followed the path she found along the road that led into the dense bush. She wasn’t sure when they’d discover she was gone, but he’d probably expect her to stick to the roads. Plus, the trail had fresh ATV tracks and that was the only way she’d be able to find her way back. As she struggled, dauntingly slow through the brush, she thought about her original plan, pre-moose, and pre-mountain-man rescue. She’d keep on heading east to Nova Scotia—keep ahead of the thugs and revisit the places she’d been with her parents.