Page 14 of Guarded from Havoc

As I look into her pleading gaze, I realize it’s impossible for me to tell her no.

And honestly, I don’t want to. I want Tatum with me, so I can be sure she’s okay.

“Alright,” I reply. “You’ll come with me. But you need to do whatever I say. Immediately. Not because I’m being an asshole, but because I’m trained for this kind of thing.”

She nods quickly. “I promise.” Then she steps away from me and takes my hand. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get out of here.”

CHAPTER 3

TATUM

Can this really be happening?

Am I really stranded in the middle of the woods with guns going off around me, like I’m in the middle of some horrific movie instead of reality?

Was I actually taken—kidnapped—by four masked intruders and dumped out here?

Punched by one of them? And judging from the weak, woozy sensation I still can’t shake, most likely drugged, as well?

It feels like only minutes ago I was standing in my kitchen, looking through the window at Erik’s cabin, wondering if I should go over or not. I can practically smell the slightly-scorched cookies; the annoyance of having to bake another batch still fresh in my mind.

Did I really think that was the worst my night could get? Some ruined cookies and possible heartburn?

Ha.

If I’d only known…

Would I have stayed home? Turned my attention away from the window and reassured myself that a man like Erik would befine with a handful of candles? Busied myself with the minutia of the evening and fallen asleep with a wistful pang of regret, wondering what would have happened if I had been brave enough to make the trip?

I might still be home now; or rather, judging from the position of the sun, just starting work. I’d be prepping the lakeside cabin—Ralph’s nicest and most expensive property—for the tenants before they arrive this afternoon. I’d be arranging the newly-baked cookies on the kitchen counter, along with a little baggie of dog biscuits for their lab. Everything would be normal.

Or would it?

What if those men were there forme?

What if my troubles in Albany somehow followed me upstate? What if Daniel went much further than I ever dreamed?

Could he? Would he?

What if it’smyfault Erik’s here? What if those terrible men went after him solely because of his proximity to me?

I can almost picture it—a car lurking in the dark, watching my house, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. And then I hand it to them; leaving the safety of my home and venturing out into the storm. Heading to a house with the power out, no less. Where they could have easily approached without notice, if not for whatever improvised security system Erik added.

No.

Daniel was dishonest and creepy and, as my mom would have put it, a terrible turdface, but to arrange for a kidnapping? Drugging me and my innocent companion? Bringing us here… Why? What would it accomplish?

He was more than a turdface, really. More like a total asshole. But to resort tothis? I just can’t see it.

“Tatum.” Erik’s voice is barely above a whisper. “We need to move. Are you still sure you want to come with me?”

I jolt in surprise, shocked at myself for allowing my mind to wander for even a few seconds.

We’ve only been standing within this small group of trees for a minute, maybe two. Not nearly enough time to get distracted. Especially considering the terrifying circumstances.

But I think I know why. My brain doesn’t want to believe it. It’s easier to focus on the whys and what-ifs than the hows. Like how do we get out of here? How do we avoid getting shot in the process?

And. How do I know I can trust Erik?

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