Forced to Change Ch. 21

Chapter 21

I was exhausted by the time we arrived in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The woods were dense; my two-story cabin was isolated. It would have made a good kill house if I'd ever needed it for that. No one was around for miles in any direction. I checked on the solar powered generators and the well water pump.

The place was dusty but well maintained. The outside rustic, dark wooden beams in a traditional log cabin fashion. The inside was modern and high-tech. Cameras, flatscreen monitors, sound equipment, and minimal furnishings dominated the interior. Across from the stone fireplace was a hidden weapons cache. There were a number of trapdoors and invisible wall panels, so that upon entering it seemed like a sparsely decorated place. The house was completely off-grid and self-sufficient.

Katie followed me inside as I said, "I built this place a few years ago. We'll be safe here."

I gave her a quick tour, but she only stared around in silence. I worried she was still in some sort of shock. She hadn't spoken in the last three hours. She slept a lot on the way down, but conversation was kept to a minimal the rest of the trip. Frustrated, I wondered what she was thinking. I didn't have a clue.

I decided against leaving her on her own again. It wasn't that I was afraid she'd bolt the moment my back was turned. I'd considered letting her go, but she'd said she wanted to stay with me.

The freezers were stocked but there were no ready perishables in the place. No milk, eggs, butter, cheese, fruits, or vegetables. The garden out back was bedded down for the winter. I was torn between wanting to make a food run and making sure everything was safe.

I wondered how Carter had missed the fact that Noel Riaz was already dead. Maybe he had known because after everything that went down in Cantana, Jorge and Noel were my perfect bait. I had never hidden my desire to finish the Cantana job—my way.

At the debriefing where I played ignorant to Katie's whereabouts I'd said as much. I debated if Jorge was still alive to be killed. Surely Carter had known the truth, but now he'd never tell a soul. The only reason Katie was with me was because she feared that Jorge still wanted her dead.

Jorge hadn't made a move on her in six years. He hadn't contacted Lana Rios or anyone else he knew in Cantana. With everything Carter had said in the cabin, it just wasn't likely he was the client. In other words, Katie had nothing to fear from Jorge. He was probably hiding in a hole somewhere. The threat to Katie's life was me. I was the one who had people out to kill him, not her.

I'd been set up by Carter. As far as I could tell, CJ was supposed to lead me to the cabin so Carter could kill me instead of picking up the location of the brothers. Katie was probably just bait, too. If I'd just met CJ at the cabin instead of the gas station, Katie wouldn't have been involved. I felt guilty again, an emotion I was growing to hate.

I headed outside to check the security equipment, set up the traps and alarms. My mind replayed the last thirty-six hours as I physically checked and rechecked the property to make sure it was as I'd left it. Katie was turning me into an idiot.

I sat up in the loft monitoring the outside and mulling over my every mistake when I heard a crash downstairs. Katie was in the kitchen area, bent over picking up broken glass off the floor with her bare hands when I reached her.

"What are you doing?" I asked while I grabbed her round the waist. I lifted her onto the countertop. "You're not wearing shoes!"

Her feet dangled down the side of the cabinet like a child's as she sat with an amused smirk on her face. She didn't say anything, simply stared at me with wonder in her eyes.

"I think you're a good guy. Creepy, but a good person." She smiled at me. It was nice to see her smile.

"Uh huh. And what gave you that odd epiphany?" I shook my head and tried to hide a grin. A sense of relief filled me as I ran my fingers through my hair. "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"I was hungry. I was trying to make us some dinner," she said, looking down.

"But you can't cook." I shook my head.

"What do you mean I can't cook? How would you know?" She crossed her arms under her breasts defensively.

"Just get out of the kitchen." I frowned.

"No, I can cook just fine." Katie's eyes hardened.

"You can insta-chef, but cook, no. Not you." I smirked at her.

She gasped and pretended to be offended. "Insta-chef? What the hell is that?"

"If it comes out of a box and isn't more complicated than boiling water." I shrugged my shoulders. "You're pretty good with microwaved meals. But that's about it."

"How do you know?" Katie rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Get out of the kitchen before you cut yourself." I turned to face her.

"Answer me first."

"Scoot." A small grunt escaped my mouth. She didn't make a move to leave as I stared at her.

"Fine," I said while moving to the closet. I retrieved a broom and dustpan and swept up the broken glass. When I finished I caught a strange look on her face.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." Her smile got bigger. "You're sorta cute," she said, seemingly from nowhere. I didn't trust her sudden change in attitude, but I went with it.

"Cute?" I frowned. "Why cute?"

"Just—I don't know. You're like irritatingly protective of me. I find it, kind of...adorable." She hopped down from the counter and landed on the balls of her feet in front of me.

"Adorable? Cute? Could you come up with some more masculine adjectives here?" I smirked and put away the broom.

She swallowed a giggle. "Hmm, let me think about that one. I was going to try to cook dinner at least. I was looking for a pan, and that glass jumped out of the cabinet and attacked me. It wasn't my fault." She pouted and gave me wide innocent eyes.

"Attacked you, huh? I'll show you an attack." I grabbed her around the waist without thinking about it. She gasped as I lifted her off her feet and swung her around the kitchen. There was a moment of tension and then she laughed.

"Stop. You'll make me dizzy," she yelled, playfully slapping at my arms where I held her around the waist. I let her body slide down mine as I set her on her feet in the living room. I felt like a nervous teenager, awkward and unsure.

"Go put on some shoes first." I patted her on the back and pushed her in the direction of her boots by the door.

"Grrr, they're hurting my feet," she said, wiggling her toes. "You should have bought me some slippers or something." She tossed her hair and the comment over her shoulder, looking back at me as she walked over to her boots.

"I'll get you some when I make a food run tomorrow," I said, running my fingers through my hair, suddenly very nervous. "In the meantime, I have some sneakers upstairs."

"Sneakers, with those big feet? They'll never fit." She picked up my work boots. I watched her, completely confused. I wasn't sure what was happening between us, but there was a moment, just a flash, of what I thought of as normal. As if we weren't being hunted, but just a man and a woman. It felt right.

She sank down onto the couch and put my boots on, wrapping the laces around her ankles a few times before tying them with a little bow. "Okay, not bad, but I feel like I have cement blocks on my feet." She stood up and stomped over to where I stood stuck like a pole in cement. Her feet popped out of the boots as she reached me.

"Maybe not." She shrugged her shoulders and giggled.

"You should do that more often. You have such a beautiful smile, Katie," I said.

She blushed. "Um...thanks." Her brown eyes glanced down as she stared at my waist. "So dinner?"

"Right." I backed away from her and returned to the kitchen, wondering about the playful exchange. Katie tried to follow me. I turned and pointed toward the living room as we reached the edge of the kitchen.

"Out!"

She held up her hands in surrender. "Fine." She sat on the barstool on the side of the breakfast bar facing the kitchen.

Picking up the package of steaks and bag of peas she'd pulled from the freezer, I tossed the peas back and grabbed a package of cauliflower from the shelf instead. She liked cauliflower better. Then I retrieved the peas, because clearly it was what she wanted. I pulled pots and pans from the cupboards, feeling ridiculous about my internal debate. Every time I checked on her as I prepared dinner a little amused smile was playing at her lips.

As I turned on the oven she said, "Domestic?"

"Not masculine enough. Try again," I responded, not missing a beat to the earlier conversation.

She rested her elbow on the counter and leaned her chin in her hand. "Softy?"

"Look, woman, I kill people for a living," I said, but then thought better of it. "Or I did, anyway. I think you can come up with a better way to describe me." I smiled as I finished seasoning the steaks.

"Big Old Softy?" She snickered.

I laughed aloud. "How about the acronym, B.O.S. Boss?" I puffed out my chest.

"Bossy, maybe." I caught the last of her eye roll as I turned away from the stove.

"I'll take it. Want some wine?" I leaned my hip against the refrigerator door.

"Sure, just watch out for those glasses of yours." She dropped her hands into her lap and stared at them, her smile fading from her lips. "Why did you stop? Killing people, I mean."

I pulled a bottle of Merlot from the wine cabinet and grabbed two glasses as I really thought about her question. Joining her at the breakfast bar, I popped the cork, not sure what to say as I poured a sip, swirled it, smelled it, tasted it, and then filled both glasses.

"Cantana. The whole thing got under my skin," I said finally, drinking my wine down in a quick gulp.

Katie picked up her glass and took a small sip. "How so?"

"Well, let's just say I got out of the business. I don't want to talk about this, okay?" I ran my fingers through my hair as I watched Katie.

"But you killed Carter and that other guy. What changed?"

I refilled my cup, drained it, and refilled it again.

"I didn't kill CJ. Carter did. Katie, I mean, if you knew what I did there...Look, I like this. Whatever this is. The way you see me now," I said quietly. "I know what and who I am, and I just don't want you to hate me. So drop it."

"Oh yeah, that wasn't cryptic." She rolled her eyes and blew out a small puff of air, then took another sip of her wine. "Come on, how bad could it be? You kill people. I can't believe I'm saying this but so what? I don't care. I really don't. You saved my life. That's never going to change." She put her glass on the breakfast bar and moved closer to me, putting her hands on my chest. "I owe you my life and I think it's important that I say thank you. So thank you."

"I prolonged your death." My face was blank as my pulse raced from her touch. "We all die, eventually." My fingers flexed and then I tentatively caressed her cheek.

She smiled up at me, although the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Well, thank you for that. Whatever. I'm just saying that I appreciate it. Whatever you did doesn't change the fact that I owe you my life, Jared. Nothing you say could ever change that." She turned her face into my palm and closed her eyes, leaning into the touch.

"Don't be so sure," I whispered. I wanted to kiss her softly on the lips but instead I pulled back. "Just trust me. I'll never hurt you, Katie. You have to believe me." My voice was pleading.

She blinked up at me, a little breathless and flushed. "I do. Completely, with my life."

I hugged her stiff body tightly, almost afraid to let go. After a moment, as if she'd had enough, she pulled back. Her head cocked to one side and she stared up at me.

"Will you teach me how to use a gun?"

I laughed. "Why?"

"I'm serious. I was thinking that, well, I took all those self-defense courses and stuff."

"Yeah?"

"But gun training might have been a better way to go."

"True." I laughed again. "Sure, I'll teach you the basics. Later. First we eat." Something about the image of her with a gun in her hand was very appealing.