Page 19 of Mountain Hero

“But now that you told me.” Enzo reaches behind him and drags the small chair over beside the bed, then drops down into it. He’s tall enough that our faces are level, and now I can see the flecks of dark blue and silver in his eyes and the tiny scar just below his hairline.

“Now that you told me,” he repeats gently, “I just have a few questions. If that’s okay. Not about the robbery. But about you and your safety.”

I brush the dampness from my cheeks with my free hand. The hand still enveloped in Enzo’s can stay there as long as he’s willing to hold it. “Okay.”

“So Thomas”—he says the name out like it’s a curse—“held you hostage for weeks? In his house? And he… did he hurt you?”

“I was there for almost a month.” Shame settles over me. “I dated him. For a couple months, not long after I moved here. Then… he hit me. And I broke up with him. I thought that was the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No. One night… he took me. From my bedroom. And he locked me in his house.”

He grits out a low, “Shit.”

“I couldn’t leave,” I say softly. “I tried. But he caught me. Hurt me. Threatened me and my aunt. I didn’t know what to do. Until last night.”

My gaze drops to my lap as I admit, “I thought about running when he went into the store. About trying to hide in the woods. I’m sorry.”

A finger gently tips my chin up so I have to meet Enzo’s gaze. There’s no judgment in it, only sympathy. “Of course you’d think about running. I can’t believe… You stayed. Risked yourself to save my store.”

“I remembered talking to you about it. How it was your uncle’s. I could tell how much it meant to you. How much he meant to you. And after spending so many years defending our country… I couldn’t let Thomas take that away from you. I had to try.”

Enzo stares at me for a few seconds, emotion darkening his gaze. “Winter. I can’t tell you…” He pauses. His expression shifts to something more serious. Determined. Intense.

“If he’s still out there… where are you going after this? When you leave the hospital? You need to be someplace safe.”

Even though I don’t know Enzo well—apart from today, we’ve probably shared an hour of conversation—somehow I just know I can trust him.

It’s the craziest feeling at the most unexpected time. On the heels of everything that happened with Thomas, that’s still going on with him, trusting a man seems like the last thing I should be doing.

But as Enzo looks at me with so much concern and kindness and something else I can’t quite identify, I don’t hesitate to tell him everything.

“I’m staying at the Blissful Sleep Motel. The police said they’d have a patrol car outside.”

The line in his forehead deepens. “The motel outside town?” His voice dips disapprovingly. “And you’ll be alone there? What about your concussion? Shouldn’t someone be staying with you?”

Ideally, yes. But that’s not an option. So I try to brighten my tone as I answer, “It’s okay. The doctor seems to think I’m fine to leave this afternoon. So he must not be concerned about it. And if there’s a problem, I can ask whoever’s on patrol to help.”

If I’m being honest, the idea of staying in a motel room by myself scares the crap out of me. I’ve driven past the Blissful Sleep Motel and while it’s not exactly a dive, it’s not particularly nice, either. Plus, it’s surrounded by forest on three sides, which gives Thomas plenty of places to hide before he tries to break into my room in the middle of the night.

No. That’s not going to happen. A police car will be parked right outside.

I just wish I didn’t keep thinking about all the movies I’ve seen with the same setup that end up with a dead police officer in the car and the bad guy waltzing into the hotel room with a bloody knife or a smoking gun or…

“It’s fine,” I repeat as I try to arrange my mouth into something that looks like a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Enzo doesn’t look convinced. He scowls at the floor for a second before he says, “You can stay at my house. If you want.”

My heart skips a beat. “Enzo…”

“I know we haven’t known each other long. But it’s a big house; you’d have your own bedroom and bathroom.” His eyes meet mine, steady and earnest. “I wasn’t just Army, Winter. I was Special Forces. A Green Beret. I only got out last year and I’ve kept up with my skills. So I’m more than capable of protecting you against an untrained criminal like Thomas.”

“Oh. I couldn’t.” But even as my brain is saying no, there’s a part of me that wants to say yes. Part of me wants follow my instincts and go with Enzo to the farmhouse he described during our second conversation instead of the creepy and lonely motel.

Then again, I agreed to stay with Thomas and look where that led me.

Not that I think Enzo is anything like Thomas, but going to the hotel is the more practical choice. It’s the choice that lets me regain a sliver of my independence after months of captivity.

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