Page 37 of Into the Woods

And then I counted it a third time, because the amount tucked between the pages was not the pittance that’d been there last time I’d checked. And in a wild twist…it wasn’t less. It was enough for me to leave.

Thousands.

I slapped my hands over the crisp hundred-dollar bills and spun my head around. There was no one lurking in the trees, no one stepped into my clearing, but my heart thundered in my chest anyway.

I’d been careful, so careful, each time I went out there. Who would have followed me? Who would have watched as I tucked my tips inside the cover of my journal?

I huffed a laugh.

Who would do all of that and then add twenty brand new, crisp hundred-dollar bills to my escape funds?

A ghost.

The ghost of my first foolish crush.

He was the only person I could think of who might’ve had money like that, but it made no sense. Christophe had left.

I hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard from him, in almost six years, there was no way he would do something like this. Would he?

There was absolutely no way I could leave that much cash out here. My tree was solid, but it wasn’t a bank. Carefully, I folded the bills and shoved them deep into my pocket, before tucking my journal back into its hiding spot.

With a final sweep of the area, I made my way back through the woods to pack up what I could. It wouldn’t be much, but it wasn’t like I had all that much anyway.

This would be good. This is what I’d wanted. What I’d planned…just not how.

But I could go, get set up in a cheap apartment, just like I would have if Tru were still here, and then I’d try to figure out what had happened to her, where she’d been, and how to get her back.

What I hadn’t expected to find propped up against my door was a broken and battered Tru.

Chapter 17

Delicate

Christophe

Sitting in my office,staying away from Winnie, has become a much harder challenge than I could have imagined.

She’s like my own personal drug, formulated for my distinct chemical makeup.

My eyes are constantly pulled back to her image on the screen.

My focus is shit.

And I have a stupid amount of shit to take care of today. Hell, my list couldn’t be any longer, and with Teague off knocking things off his own list, I’m on my own. He’s the only other person I trust with tasks of a nature this sensitive.

Though I try to fight it, my gaze lands on the security monitor yet again.

Winnie is pacing, pacing, pacing, like a caged bear. Ironic comparison considering how slight she is, almost fragile in her build. Can’t imagine too many times the worddelicateis used to describe bears, but here we are. My own personal delicate bear,longing to break free of her cage while it protects her from things darker, much, much worse than me.

I hit the button on the ancient intercom on my desk and wait.

There is no way I’m going to be able to get anything done with the temptation of Winnie on my screen, and I’m not willing to turn the monitor off unless I know someone else has eyes on her. Not after her stunt yesterday. Why she thought she could escape undetected is beyond me.

I turn before even the slightest sound registers, lounging back in my chair as I address Garrick. “I need you to entertain Winnie today. Keep her busy. Distracted.” It’s probably the softest order I’ve ever issued.

“Sir?”

This is so fucking dumb, this whole thing. I heave out a heavy breath as my gaze crawls to him. Brows knit in confusion. Stiff posture. One foot slightly behind the other. He looks like he’s ready to run, but I’m not entirely convinced it’s from me or toward her.

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