Page 11 of Handcuffed By the Bounty Hunters

I should probably get out of Cameron’s lap.

I really don’t want to let him go.

In the heavy silence, I can feel their skepticism. They don’t believe me, they don’t trust me. And why should they? I don’t trust them.

“So you copied sensitive information,” Roark prods.

“It’s encrypted, but it’s proof of the things he’s doing, the politicians he’s paying off, the drugs he smuggles to appease the cartels, the falsified environmental reports.”

Cameron gives me a gentle squeeze. “If you give the files to us, we can make sure they go to the right people.”

I almost blab about where I hid them. It would be so easy to hand over the responsibility to someone else, wipe my hands on my pants, and say I’ve done my part.

But I don’t know these guys. Clive could have hired them to pretend to be good guys when they’ve been on his side all along. Clive “Wild Card” Oberon has done crazier shit.

I shake my head. “Sorry. I’m not telling you.”

Roark scowls, dark eyebrows inching together like gathering storm clouds. I’m afraid to look up and see Cameron’s face.

Disappointing them makes my chest ache. Abruptly, I scramble off of Cameron’s lap. “I have to pee.”

“I’ll take her.” Roark’s voice is firm.

Cameron holds up his hands. “It’s not like I’d let her run off.”

Interesting. Roark seems to think Cameron has a soft spot for me. Maybe I can use that.

“Let’s go.” Roark’s hand is warm on my elbow as he leads me outside.

The rain has stopped for the most part. I’m cold in my tank top, but Roark doesn’t make a move to free me from my handcuffs. He hands me a packet of tissues and walks me to a tree. There, he stands like a sentry.

I shift nervously from foot to foot.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“I can’t pee when you’re watching.”

He shrugs. “Maybe you don’t have to go all that bad.”

I stare at him until he shakes his head.

“Fine,” he says. “But I’m not taking off your handcuffs.”

“How am I supposed to do everything I need to do?”

“Figure it out.” He strides to the front of the cabin and stands in the doorway.

I move around to the other side of the tree for privacy. There, I manage to both hold the little tissue packet and do my business. I bury the tissue, feeling bad about littering in the woods.

Their voices reach my ears.

“She doesn’t feel safe yet. She isn’t going to give us the files,” Cameron says.

“Maybe she’ll give them up when we get to Ironwood.”

They still want the files. They don’t care about me, of course. More and more, I think Clive hired them.

“Done yet?” Roark calls out.

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