Page 76 of Rock Bottom

Each of them had a single spare tire, which wasn’t enough to get us back on the road. Bowie and Church had been trying to call back to their junkyard to arrange a delivery of more tires, but neither could get through.

“Still no signal?” I asked, bouncing my leg nervously.

“No, and there should be.” Bowie hooked his thumbs in his belt and scanned the trees.

Church closed his laptop, sliding it into his backpack. “The internet’s out, too.”

Bowie shook his head. “Then we’re out of options. One of us is going for a hike.”

“Bad idea,” I said. “Whoever slashed your tires is still out there, and armed with something sharp enough to do it. If one of you goes out there alone…”

“Don’t have a choice.” Bowie walked over to the back of his pickup and pulled down the tailgate. “We’ve got to get a message out so we aren’t stranded out here without backup, and even the best signal blockers on the civilian market only have a range of about five hundred meters. Should be able to get a signal out if I take the dirt bike up onto the ridge.” He started unbuckling the bike from where he had it strapped down, but paused. “God dammit! That fucker got the dirt bike tires, too. Looks like I’m walking.”

Church and I exchanged a worried look before he stood and went over to Bowie. “I don’t like this.”

“I ain’t a fan either, but what choice do we have?” He grabbed a worn black backpack and started loading it with random supplies he pulled out of the truck. “Look, if I go now, there’s a chance someone can get here by sundown. Now, you and me both know once it gets dark, it’s only going to get more dangerous. The only other option is that all three of us go up there, and I’ll move faster on my own without your giant ass mowing through the underbrush. Besides, I can handle myself against one idiot with a machete.” He pulled out a bowie knife and turned it over, letting it catch the sun. “His might be bigger, but size ain’t everything.” He winked and attached the blade and its holster to his belt.

Church gave Bowie’s shoulder a slap. “Be safe out there, brother.”

Bowie shrugged on the backpack and looked over at me. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, and then he started walking.

Church opened the back of the Tahoe and grabbed a bag before coming back up onto the porch.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, jumping up to follow.

“Hopefully, Bowie’s able to get a call out and someone comes down to pick us up.” He pulled open the front door and held it. “Then we’ll get you secured, and someone can come out to get our vehicles tomorrow.”

“I meant what if he can’t call out or if…” I trailed off, turning to scan the trees around the cabin. I didn’t want to think about anyone getting hurt because of me, but that was a real possibility. Oscar was out there, and armed with something sharp enough to slice through truck tires. Nobody had said it was him yet, but we all knew it was.

“Bowie’s going to get through,” Church promised and went inside.

I followed, waiting until he’d closed the door and locked it before asking, “Yes, but what if he doesn’t? Or what if Oscar shows up here?”

Church tossed his duffel bag onto the sofa before going from window to window to verify they were locked. One by one, he closed the blinds and pulled the curtains closed. “If he attempts to enter the premises, I’ll stop him using any means necessary, up to and including deadly force.” He opened his suit jacket to reveal a black handgun strapped to his hip that I hadn’t noticed before. “You’re safe with me.”

“Maybe we should go upstairs where it’s more defensible,” I suggested with a wink.

Church snorted. “You just want to go upstairs to shag again.”

“I can’t help it. All this macho bodyguard stuff really turns me on. Can you say that with a possessive growl? Maybe add you’re mine at the end? I’m into possessive bottoms.”

“Not now. I’m working.” He checked the back door a second time, rattling it in its frame. “You are right about the loft, though. It’s the safest place for you.”

I sighed and followed him up to the empty loft, waiting by the ladder as he checked the window, and then moved the dresser over to block it, just in case. This whole thing was ridiculous. I knew every big artist had their crazy fans, but I’d never heard of someone this persistent. What was it Oscar wanted from me? Why me?

A picture frame fell over on the desk with a loud crack, and I flinched. Dammit, I was so jumpy! If only I could have a little something to help me relax. I wouldn’t need much. Just a little sip, just enough to take the edge off. I wouldn’t even have to get drunk. I could just…

Church cupped my cheek and bent down to kiss me, sending a flutter of lust through me that turned out to be the perfect distraction. “It’ll be okay,” he promised.

“I know.” I sighed and let my head fall against his chest. “I just want it to be over so I can go back to dealing with my real problem. I should be helping you instead of standing over here thinking about having a drink.”

“That wouldn’t help.”

“I know.” I swallowed and lifted my head to look up at him. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it. I’ve been drinking my coping skills for years. Learning something else…It’s going to take a while.”

“Well then, how about some chamomile tea instead?” he offered.

“Sounds perfect.” I gave Church’s ass a light slap and stared at it as he walked away. Judging by the way he added a little swagger to his walk, he knew I was watching. That’s right, kitten. That’s all mine.

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