Page 8 of Handcuffed By the Bounty Hunters

“No,” the older guy says.

The younger one gives me a regretful look. “Sorry, Penny. Roark always has a giant stick up his ass, it isn’t just you.”

The older guy, Roark, I guess is his name, grumbles under his breath. He’s stern enough, I wonder if he’s a daddy dom. I’ve read books and fantasized about them, and he seems like he would be a good fit for the role.

Yep. In a different situation, I could call him Daddy.

“By the way, I’m Cameron,” the younger one says. “That asshole over there is Roark. We work for Ironwood Security, and we’re good guys.”

“Good guys who work for bad guys,” I mutter. “Plus, Roark is an asshole.”

Cameron snickers, but Roark gives me a dark look.

“Watch it,” Roark says. “Don’t make tonight harder than it has to be.”

I want to stick out my tongue, but that’s an immature and totally unnecessary response. Something about his frown, half-hidden behind his handsome beard, makes me want to push his buttons.

I ignore the impulse. I don’t know these guys, and while they’re less terrifying than the guy who tried to attack me, and they’re less terrifying than the storm that’s starting to rage outside, they’re still terrifying.

At Cameron’s nod of encouragement, I sit down on the cot. It’s awkward with my bound wrists, but I manage to lie down and get the blanket up and over my shoulders. Cameron looks like he wants to smooth it out for me, but he takes one look at Roark and seems to change his mind.

A clap of thunder shakes the cabin. I stifle my cry of fear and burrow my head under the blanket. My heart is beating a thousand times per minute. When lightning flashes again, so bright I can see it from behind the thin fabric, I gasp. The thunder will be next.

Sure enough, there isn’t much of a wait—thunder bellows and shakes the cabin again.

I can’t do this. I can’t be here. This storm is going to kill us all.

Cameron says to Roark, “I’ll take first watch.”

I don’t peer out of my blanket fortress, but I hear Roark moving his bulky body around. “Fine. But do not, under any circumstances, remove her handcuffs. She already tried to run once.”

“Got it, got it,” Cameron says.

The flashlight clicks off, and the faint glow beyond my blanket disappears.

I listen to the rain slashing at the cracked windows and the drip-drip of a leak coming through the ceiling somewhere. The wind howls, as if the other violent sounds aren’t bad enough.

Minutes feel like hours.

Lightning flashes again, followed immediately by the loudest clap of thunder I’ve ever heard in my life. I roll into a tighter ball, trying to make myself as small as possible.

“Hey,” a soft voice says. Cameron. “Penny. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, sounding almost as miserable as I feel.

“You don’t seem okay,” he says. “I’m going to sit on the edge of the bed. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Cameron

She doesn’t tell me to go fuck myself, so I consider it a win and sit on the edge of the cot. It creaks under my weight, but holds me.

Penny is shivering beneath the blanket, but I don’t think she’s cold—I think she’s scared.

“Would it help if I turned on the light again?” I ask.

She rolls over to her other side, refusing to speak. Then I realize she isn’t shivering—she’s crying.

“Penny,” I whisper, shooting a look toward Roark, whose eyes are closed. I can’t tell if he’s sleeping. Probably not. “Penny, what is it?”

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