“Not gonna happen.” He picks up speed, taking a turn I didn’t tell him to take. "My cabin isn't far from here. You can spend the night and head out in the morning, or charge your phone and call an Uber to take you the rest of the way."
I hug my backpack tightly, not sure if he’s just being a good Samaritan or if he’s actually trying to kidnap me. "Please just let me out. I can walk. Really."
He doesn’t respond.
"Where are you taking me?”
“I told you, to my cabin.”
I reach for the door handle.
"You’ll break your fucking neck if you do that,” he says, and he’s right. We’re going too fast for me to jump without at least spraining something.
I close my eyes and try to calm my heartbeat. This is it. He's going to trap me in his murder basement and flay me alive. A tiny voice inside me whispers, maybe you deserve it.
After everything I’ve allowed to happen?
Yeah. Maybe I do deserve what’s coming.
Finally, the truck slows. I stare out the windshield, having lost my sense of direction in the midst of my panic. The headlights flash across a garage door with a dent that looks oddly familiar, followed by an even more familiar-looking porch.
I sit stock still as the man cuts the engine and climbs out of the truck.
This stranger has brought me to my dad's hunting cabin.
Only, it’s not my dad’s cabin anymore.
He opens the passenger-side door. “You getting out, or would you rather sleep in here?”
I slowly turn to face him. “Silas Walker?”
His expression turns cautious. “How the hell do you know my name?”
“I’m Norah Benson. Jack Benson was my father.”
Chapter Five
Silas
Thank God some other asshole didn’t get to her first. That’s my first thought; my second is a lot less charitable. My dead childhood pal’s daughter just tried to suck my cock.
I knew I wasn’t going to let her put her mouth on anything, long before I pulled into the woods. But I wanted to call her bluff. Maybe scare her a little, so she’d think twice about trying something that stupid again.
Some guys can only think with their dicks. Fortunately for this girl, Norah, I’m not one of them. My relationships over the years have been mostly casual, but I’ve never cheated. Getting a boner from looking at a pretty girl is a natural reaction, but that’s all it is—a reaction. Putting the burden on her to finish what she started is like waking up with morning wood and expecting the dawn to fuck you.
Granted, she had been trying to get me excited, and I’d be lying through my teeth if I said her efforts hadn’t worked. Her small hand rubbing all over my cock had my balls aching something fierce. But a teenager wouldn’t run around offering blow jobs for rides if she had any other options. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m not the kind of guy to take advantage of that level of desperation—no matter how soft her mouth looks.
And here I thought my biggest challenge after all these years would be finding the damn place.
The front door is locked when I try to open it, then I remember the lawyer saying something about mailing me the key by the end of the week. Thankfully, Jack kept the spare where his dad always hid it, hanging on a screw hook between two porch railings. I’m acutely aware of Norah’s presence behind me as I unlock the door and step inside the pitch-black cabin.
I reach into my pocket for my phone to use as a flashlight, just as Norah slips past me into the darkness.
“Wait,” I tell her, “I’ve got a light—”
There’s a click followed by a warm glow from a tabletop lamp. The last time I was here, the place didn’t even have electricity. I take in the unfamiliar furnishings, the leather couch and stone fireplace, the oak dining table and stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen alcove.
Well, I’ll be damned. Jack’s obviously made some improvements over the years.