Page 4 of Montana Freedom

Lucas laughed, wrapping an arm around her. “Yes, I do remember that.”

“How much groveling will I have to do if I tell you I was wrong and we literally needallthe help we can get?”

“No groveling at all,” he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “Tell us where you need us.”

All of us followed her into the shop, weaving around people patiently waiting in line to receive coffee or the baked goods for which Lena was renowned—even after a smear campaign tried to convince the town otherwise.

Evie handed us each an apron as we moved behind the counter. “Lucas, I need at least one more person handling the line and keeping them happy. I need someone filling the pastry orders as they come over the counter, and the rest of you, I’ll yell what I need.”

Grace saluted her. “Yes, Boss.”

Evie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. I glanced at Lucas and Grant, who were all smiles too. This was what it meant to be a part of the Resting Warrior family, and it was the very thing we’d wanted to build when we’d started our place.

Breaking into the roles Evie assigned, we went to work.

Chapter2

Emma Derine

I pinned another piece of paper to the wall. This one had phone numbers on it. Or at least, it did in my mind. Phone logs of numbers. I had no idea who they belonged to or how they connected yet, but a bunch of numbers were repeated multiple times, and that felt significant.

Cracking my neck, I stepped back and looked at my creation, groaning.

What had started as one corner of a wall, trying to get all my thoughts out in a place where I couldlookat them, had now become nearly two full walls of the cabin. Some fishing line and nails were my makeshift pushpins and string, and it looked like one of those boards you found in crime dramas when they were trying to figure out the killer.

And that’s what it was. Kind of.

Trying to figure out where my killer was, what he was doing, and how to take him down. Or rather, the man who would have been my killer—and still would be if he ever saw me again.

I flopped down on the couch in the center of the room. I’d moved it so it faced the wall of clues that, to anyone else, would look like nonsense. Blank pages or scribbled notes that only made sense to me.

That was the hard part about having a perfect photographic memory but not having the smarts to go with it. I was sure I had all the information I needed to figure this out, but I couldn’t see the solution. The only other possibility was to ask for help, and I couldn’t do that. I knew now how deep his influence went, and I wasn’t about to risk putting a target on my back.

Outside, the light was fading, getting dark early in the shadows of the large trees on this mountainside.

That was the other reason I’d moved the couch to the center of the room. I needed as much space around me as possible so I didn’t go mad thinking the walls were closing in.

Living in a cage for more than a month would do that to you. Small spaces made me panic, and the little side room in this cabin that held a bed and not much else was too cramped. I’d barely set foot in it after the first night when I’d thought I was going to die because I couldn’t breathe.

The couch had been my home ever since.

Every night, I slept here, waking at the slightest sound from outside and wondering if this night was the night Simon or his men came crashing in, not expecting me, and finding me anyway. At least if that happened, it would be quick.

Then there was the other part of my nights. The dreams. I dreamed of being in the cage, but not only that—I dreamed of being pulled out of it. The man who saved me and took my hand, offering me freedom. His was the face I saw the most. Thick black hair, dark, kind eyes, and a sympathetic smile that was never far from my thoughts.

If I could figure it out,hewould believe me. I knew it. He would listen and try to understand. Maybe he would even help me if I asked. But I didn’t know where to find him. I’d left the mystery man behind when I fled the house and never looked back.

For now, I was content to have him help in my dreams. It was a comfort when I woke in a panic, remembering the too-tight space and the choking fear. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to do what I knew I had to. This cabin was a hideout, and it had been stocked with food when I got here, thanks to my remembering an address on one of the pieces of my wall of notes.

But it had been nearly six months, and I was down to scraps. My stomach growled, as if it knew what I was thinking and agreed. I needed to get more food somehow.

The idea of stealing made me curl up into a ball with guilt and anxiety, but I didn’t see any other way around it. I had no money and no ID, no way to buy what I needed unless I wanted to put myself on the grid again, and that was something I couldn’t do.

I was probably already wanted for stealing the car. Though it was stolen already before I stole it again.

There was gas in the car. I hadn’t started the thing since the night I’d fled here, so at least I wasn’t at risk of running out of gas and being stranded.

---