Page 35 of Jericho

I squeeze my hand into a fist rather than punching a frozen tree, because a trip to the emergency room for a fucking cast would really throw a wrench in things right now.

She compromised who I was right at the center of my soul, and she never had to open her mouth to ask me to do it. I handed my integrity over to her without question. I ignored the things that were going on in the house. I didn't document the drugs, or the guns, or the whispers that Ivan was considering getting into the skin trade. I never reported any of this back to my handler with ICE. I turned a blind eye when other members of our crew just disappeared, and I never thought to question what happened because doing so could mean I wouldn't see her any longer.

After that first quiet night we spent together, with her shaking in my arms because she was scared of what it would mean if she gave me her virginity, I knew she could keep that gift to herself and I'd still be willing to die to protect her.

Lost in memories of the past, I stumble when my boot gets caught on a bare root, making the possibility of my thoughts of ending up in a ravine even more likely.

Even now she fucks with my head and makes me lose sight of the real issues.

Eli is my number one concern, and Aspen is a means to get me into his life. I've already formulated a half-dozen arguments for when she thinks she has the right to tell me to stay away from him.

I swipe at a snow-covered branch to get it out of my way, but all it does is snap back, aggressively hitting me in the face, and that's the tipping point. With snow coating my face and the sting of pine needles on my cheek, I rip and tear at the branch as if it's the root cause of everything that has gone bad in my life.

It doesn't take long to realize I'm fighting a losing battle but the scurry of something deeper in the woods draws my attention. I find myself grateful to have the branch I was just fighting to cling to because my inability to control my temper in this moment has left me winded and exhausted.

I crane my neck, trying to hear, and then the sound of a blood-curdling scream meets my ears. The exhaustion I felt only moments ago disappears.

It feels like I've trekked into the woods a million miles with how long it's taking me to get back to her, praying that she saw a fucking spider or some shit rather than the worst possible thing that could fucking happen.

I realize as I inch closer to the edge of the woods that rather than it being some innocuous bug, the reality is much worse.

I crouch low, pulling the gun from my boot, unsure of how many men have piled out of the SUV that's currently idling in front of the cabin. The front door is kicked in, and they'll be alerted to me with the first shot that I take, but I can't waste another second.

I pull the trigger, and the man standing off to the side of the porch falls. When another steps out onto the porch, I take him down with my second shot, my breath puffing in front of me as I lock my attention on the SUV. If there's anyone in there right now, they aren't making it known.

Aspen screaming for a second time moves me further into action, and I rush toward the front of the cabin, stepping over the second man I shot.

A bullet whizzes past my head, and the only thing keeping me alive is how bad of a fucking shot he was. I shoot the third man, not wasting a second worrying about what could've just happened as I rush toward the bathroom.

I see red the second I step into the bathroom and see a man standing behind a very wet and very naked Aspen. She's trembling, her hand gripping the forearm he has wrapped around her throat.

"You okay, Peach?"

"I've been better," she whispers.

I keep my eyes locked on hers. I don't have to look at this man to kill him.

"He wants you alive," the man mutters. "But I don't think I'll get a chance to play with this sweet piece of ass with you alive."

Chapter 20

Aspen

I don't think I'd be any more insulted if he leaned over, sniffed me, and scrunched his nose.

His suggestion of me needing a shower sort of crushed me a little, but I've never taken personal criticism very well.

I rerun the conversation through my head as I shampoo my hair. I didn't do a damn thing to bring on such a personal attack, but here I am, using a drugstore brand of shampoo on my hair. As I scratch my fingers along my scalp, I can hear Roxanne bitching at my next appointment about the damage I've caused, but that's not likely, is it?

I'll probably never see Roxanne again. She's connected to Damien and his organization, and going there would mean death.

I freeze when I hear a thump. I didn't lock the door behind Jericho when he left because I don’t know if he has a key and it's freaking winter in Massachusetts. I didn’t want him trapped outside. It's possible that it's him back in the cabin, but then I hear a whisper, masculine, but too low to understand the words spoken. I don't miss the fact that another man responds.

Fear lashes out at me, but before I can formulate any type of plan, the bathroom door is kicked open.

I scream when I see the flash of a shadow on the other side of the simple plastic curtain. It's thick enough that I can't make out any real lines but thin enough to know that there's someone in the small bathroom with me.

I freeze, knowing how much trouble I'm in when the curtain is ripped back and I see Hames standing just outside the lip of the shower.

---