Their Mountain Captive by Kayla Wren

5

Dante

When I came out here to the mountains, when I left my life and family name behind, I did not intend to break any more laws.

Okay, maybe a couple. Small, stupid ones, like parking laws. And then there are the artworks I trade anonymously online—my one indulgence on this bleak mountainside, my one sip of culture in this world of corduroy and plaid. But nothing that could draw any attention to me. Nothing that would tatter the last scraps of my soul.

With Roxy…

This is not what I intended.

I lean my elbows on the railing that surrounds my cabin deck, squinting out into the darkness. It’s late, the night silent except for the whispering breeze, and somewhere miles away, a wolf’s ghostly howl bounces around the mountainside.

I’m exposed out here. If Angelo is near, he will see me. He’d have a clear shot too, but that’s not his style.

Too quick. Too merciful. No chance to catch up and relive old times. No chance to make me suffer.

“Should you be out here?” Alec leans in the doorway behind me, his arms crossed over a faded red sweater. It’s cold here at night, the temperature plummeting. Plenty of hapless hikers get caught off guard, coming here with no clue what it takes to survive.

Just like the hiker currently tied to my bed.

“She really is just a tourist,” I mutter. I’m sure of it.

Roxy doesn’t have the manner of someone who knows Angelo Marino. She’s not haunted or twitching at every shadow. She’s pissed off, sure, scared by her situation, but she doesn’t know bone-deep terror. Not really.

Alec sighs. “Yes.” He’s been running background checks all night, using the satellite connections and calling up old contacts, and there are only a few checks left to do. But we both know already what they’ll say.

She’s innocent. A travel blogger with the worst kind of luck.

An injured young woman who we held hostage and threatened with a gun. Wonderful.

“Just because she doesn’t know Angelo doesn’t mean she can’t cause you trouble.” The way Alec says it is so casual. He’s testing me. He wants to know what I’m going to do with her—whether I’ll sacrifice Roxy to stay hidden from my family. And when will he stop testing me, exactly?

“We’ll be long gone by the time press gets hold of it.”

I swear, the temperature behind me warms two degrees. “Right.” Two boot steps creak on the deck, then a hand grips my shoulder. And it takes everything inside me not to lean into Alec’s touch. Not to turn and grip his wrist, to make him acknowledge this thing between us.

“You’re a good man, Dante.”

I snort. “Tell that to my captive.”

“I wouldn’t want to wake her.”

“She’s asleep?” I turn, surprised. She can’t be that scared of us then, surely? The thought makes my chest pinch, and I rub at my sternum absentmindedly.

Rough flannel scrapes under my palm.

Seriously—fuck these mountain clothes.

“One day I will wear fine cotton again,” I declare, dropping my hand and wiping my palm on my jeans. “And I will wash in a power shower, not in a river, and I will sip espresso in a courtyard by the sea.”

The shadowed outline of Alec tilts his head.

“Is it really so bad here?”

No.

Not with you.

Except… we’ve been out here for almost two years. Cut off from the world, just the two of us. And while it took time to trust each other, to warm up and settle into some kind of friendship, that’s all it’s ever been.

Dancing around each other. Coming so close, then darting away.

We’ve stalled. Hit a rock face.

Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Dante.”

I blink, coming out from the tangle of my thoughts. “No. No, the mountains are fine, even if I need to dress like a rag doll.”

Back home, I wore tailored suits. Fine colognes and heavy watches. My father bought me sapphire cuff links for my eighteenth birthday without a hint of irony.

I still have them, hidden inside the cabin. Insurance, for the next escape.

“We’ll take her into town.” Alec is in list-mode. It calms him. “Leave her with mountain rescue. Then head straight out of state, swapping vehicles, changing names—you know the drill.”

“I do.”

“We can’t leave any hints behind. We’ll need to sweep your cabin. There’ll be no sleep tonight.”

“Nope. Only for Roxy.”

He quietens at her name. He’s soft on her too—I’ve seen the way his eyes snag on her every time he glances in her direction. The way his mouth twitches at her outrageous insults; the tender way he checks her wounds.

Maybe he should stay behind. Stay with her.

I shake myself. Roxy wouldn’t want either of us. This endless day is getting to me.

“This is the worst thing I’ve done,” he tells me quietly. And that’s something, right? From an ex FBI agent who moved in a mile from his mark.

“I’ve done it. Not you.”

“No.” Alec’s eyes burn in the moonlight. “Don’t do that. Don’t give me an out. I did this too, and one day I’ll pay for it.”

“One day,” I repeat softly. Not today.

And if I have any say in it, that day will never come. I would do anything for this man. Anything.

I’ve never had true family before.

When we step back inside, I can’t resist wandering to the bedside. Roxy’s arms are tied above her head, her cheek pillowed against her bicep, and is that uncomfortable?

Too late now.

Her dark hair spills over the pillow and her shoulders, loose strands lying across her cheek. Her forehead is smooth in sleep, as though she’s not held captive at all. As though she’s tucked up safely at home, cozy and sweet. I press my mouth together as I unlace her other boot, tugging it gently off her foot. She stirs, mumbling something, then drifts straight back to sleep.

I place the boot beneath the bed. Swipe the blanket from the back of the sofa.

It’s cold in the mountains. Even with a fire crackling in the wood burner by the sofa, the chill creeps through the room. Alec is bundled in layers over by the wooden desk, urging our ancient computer to make it through the night. And Roxy’s cheek is cool when I brush it with the back of my knuckles, smoothing her hair away.

I spread the blanket over her. Pretend I don’t feel Alec’s eyes on me as I tuck her in, make sure she’s covered. Then, when I’ve run out of excuses to linger, I drag myself away and start packing up the cabin.

Just the essentials. Any identifying items.

And I do it all quietly, so I don’t wake our guest.