Page 43 of Peril in Piney Woods

“About the situation.” He let his impatience show a little.

“Okay. Tell me your thoughts.” She sat back on her heels, gave him her undivided attention and waited for him to go on.

“Ernie can go to Sheriff Norwood. She’s good. She might be able to help.”

Why couldn’t Meg make him see that the more people drawn into this, the higher the body count would rise? Ernie, the sheriff—no one could fix this. No matter how good, no matter how well intentioned. This was not that simple. “I wish she could, but that isn’t likely. I appreciate the suggestion though.”

“Sit with me.” He patted the mattress beside him. “You’ve been pacing the floor and staring out that window for hours. Now you’re prowling around in drawers. You need a break. I know you’re worried, but you keep blowing off my suggestions.”

Meg moved up to the bed. “Really, I appreciate your suggestions. I appreciate your friendship. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt by this, and that’s what will happen if other people get involved. I keep telling you this, but you’re not listening.”

“The sheriff’s department is already involved,” he reminded her.

Not that she needed a reminder. “I wish that wasn’t the case.”

“Don’t you think it would be helpful if they understood what was happening? Isn’t being in the dark more dangerous to folks like Ernie?”

It was, and that was exactly why she had to get out of here as quickly as possible. She’d stayed too long after the first strike as it was.

“You’re right.” She made a final decision. “Maybe I should meet with them first thing in the morning to make sure they understand the situation.”

The relief on his face was palpable. More guilt heaped on her shoulders. She hated lying to him.

“Great. You can call him first thing, and we’ll make that happen.”

“Speaking of which,” she stood, “I should charge my phone.”

Anything was better than staring into his hopeful eyes. She dug her charger out of her backpack and found an outlet. It wouldn’t take long, so she didn’t have to wait on moving forward with her plan. The sooner she was out of Griff’s life, the sooner his was back on track. Distance was crucial right now. She would get out of Tennessee and let Lorenzo know she was headed his way. That should shift focus quickly enough from Piney Woods. This was the only way.

Maybe she’d head northeast and disappear into New York City. Lorenzo had contacts there as well. The bastard had contacts in every city of importance in the country. A little place like Piney Woods had felt relatively safe in the grand scheme of things. If Ernie hadn’t run her prints, maybe—just maybe—she would still be safely ensconced in her made-up life.

Moments with Griff flickered through her mind like last week’s recap of her favorite series. Jodie’s laughter and Dottie’s mothering. The best meat loaf she’d ever eaten at the diner. Raymond. God, she loved that dog. The idea of never seeing him again...

She really had to get out of here before she lost the ability to stay focused.

The longer she waited, the harder it would be to walk away.

As if he sensed her emotional struggle, Griff joined her at the window. He pulled down the worn shade. “You should relax. We’ll take this to the sheriff in the morning and go from there. There’s nothing else you can do tonight. Worrying won’t help.”

Meg braced herself. “You’re right.” She turned to him, looked deep into his eyes. “I think I need something to take my mind off the fact that I might never be safe, no matter where I go.”

The words were for him—to garner a response—but sadly they were all too true.

He cupped her face in his hands. “I can do that,” he whispered as his mouth lowered toward hers.

Her heart surged, her body trembled as his lips brushed across hers. He kissed her softly then, carefully, as if he worried she might shatter. Her hands found their way to his chest, flattened there, molding to the strength she felt beneath his shirt. His body was solid from long days of hard work. His muscles flexed beneath the pressure of her touch. She wanted so badly to unbutton his shirt, to feel the heat of his skin against her palms.

He pushed his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss. Meg’s body caught fire, reacted so intensely she barely remained standing. Her fingers were unfastening the buttons of his shirt before her brain realized what she was doing.

She just wanted to touch him, to feel him.

Catching her breath no longer mattered, slowing down was not happening. Her fingers fumbled, couldn’t move fast enough. She tugged open the final button and pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and then her hands slid over his bare skin. Every nerve in her body reacted.

His fingers tangled in the hem of her tee, pulling it up and over her head. She should slow this down, but she couldn’t. She wanted to feel all of him, wanted to taste him. To have him taste her, to touch her all over. They moved toward the bed. Whether he took the first step or she did, Meg couldn’t be sure. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they shed the rest of their clothes as quickly as possible.

She unfastened his jeans.

He stopped kissing her, drew back just enough to look into her eyes. “We really doing this?”

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