Page 21 of Hunted for the Holidays

Chuckling to himself, Derek tips his chin at me. "C'mon, little bunny, let's go see if we can help him along."

I step down from the porch, following Derek around the side of the cabin to where Wyatt is stacking all the split wood in a small shed. The snow starts to come down heavier, flakes getting bigger and building up on the ground around us. A gust of wind rushes past us in a whistle, rustling the giant pines that surround the cabin. I shiver beneath the warmth of Wyatt’s sweatshirt that I’ve stolen and claimed as my own. The thought of staying here snowed in with my captors warms me in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

Wyatt's head swivels around and he glances up at the sky. "Storm will be here in no time. Need to gather some more firewood. If we lose power, we'll need it for the stove, too."

"Charlie and I can grab some more," Derek volunteers.

"Yeah," I shiver. "Anything to get us back inside sooner."

With a nod, Wyatt hands him a piece of canvas with handles. Derek takes it and slings the other arm over my shoulders, tucking me into his side. Our boots crunch with each step as we walk deeper into the thicket of trees, stopping to pick up large sticks as we go.

"Look, Derek!" I shout, pointing to a small evergreen and rushing towards it. "Wouldn't that make the perfect little Christmas tree?"

"You want a tree, little bunny?"

"It's Christmas Eve, and if we’re gonna be stuck inside for god knows how long, shouldn't we at least have a tree?" I plead my case.

"I don't think Christmas decorations were at the top of Wyatt's supply list when he was stocking the cabin," he muses.

I feel my smile falter in the slightest.I didn't even think about that. My shoulders sag as the little bubble of excitement that was starting to form bursts. This isn't the lodge or even my holiday getaway anymore. I'm in a cabin with the men who murdered my fiance and took me captive. But, they also saved me...

I'm sure they could’ve easily gotten in on the reward from my father. He’d pay anything to get me back in his possession. He would have been raging the moment he found out I'd been defiled, though. I shudder at the thought of what he'd do to me then.

"Okay," I sigh, walking back towards him.

He doesn't say anything further as I pause to pick up a fallen branch. His gloved hand strokes his chin, face impassive as he studies me.

"Would a tree really make you that happy, Charlie?"

I shrug a shoulder. "I just thought it could be nice. Christmas was supposed to be my wedding day. I thought it would be fun to have our own celebration, something of my choosing, just for once in my life.”

"Well, fuck. I guess we can take it." Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he says, "You stay right there, and I'll go drop the wood off to Wyatt and grab an ax."

"Thank you!" I sing-song, eyeing the tree again. It really is the perfect little Christmas tree.

"You can make it up to me later by giving me my present underneath it," he smirks, turning to head toward the cabin.

My cheeks heat with a blush. I want Derek to fuck me–like for realfuck me. The tempting and teasing play has been enlightening, and now I’m eager to delve deeper. Before, my virginity was never mine to give, but now it is, and as far as I'm concerned, it's Derek and Wyatt's for the taking. I want them both. I want everything they’re willing to give and am prepared to hand over everything they want to take.

We may not have any ornaments, but I still think the tree will look pretty in the corner by the fireplace. If I'm going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere for the holidays, I can at least have a touch of the holiday spirit, right?

I'm sure if I was with Kit, today would have been a lot more extravagant and the lodge would be decked all the way out. Right about now, I’d probably be in the midst of being shuffled between groups of wealthy socialites, shown off like a prize mare ready to be bred. After crossing paths with that search group, I've been wondering just how long my dad has had this bounty on me. Was he hoping to save his deposits and go through with my Christmas wedding, trading out one asshole groom for another? The thought of being shipped back home only to suffer at the hands of some rich fucker makes staying with Wyatt and Derek all the easier. At least with them, I get to feel special. To them, I’m not just worth the price someone’s willing to pay for me.

A branch snaps behind me and I whip my head around excitedly, expecting to see Derek. But instead of his hazel eyes, I lock onto a pair of icy blue ones.

"Charlotte? Charlotte Carrington?" the man calls out, stepping closer.

"Wh-who are you?" I stutter, edging back.

"I'm a friend of your Dad’s. He's been trying to reach you and Kit. You’re supposed to be married tomorrow. Everyone is waiting for you.”

I don't remember his face from the group I saw yesterday, but what are the chances he isn't part of it? His words chill me more than the icy air. My dad isn’t worried about me, he’s worried about saving face. He’s worried about the event, the guests, the deal. Without me, he can’t get his precious payday.

"I'll bring you to my vehicle,” the man starts, darting his eyes around. “There’s a storm coming in and we need to get going."

Rolling my lip between my teeth, I consider my options. This is it–this very well could be my only chance to escape from Derek and Wyatt. But do I really want that anymore?

"I can't. I should get back to Kit," I lie, hoping they haven't discovered his body. “Kit!” I shout as I sidestep.

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