5
Cameron
Iscrubbeddirtfrommy body, eager to get this over as fast as possible.
Shep stood with his back to me, arms folded and his black T-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders. Jesus H. Christ, he almost filled the entire doorframe.
Aside from my wounds stinging a little, the scorching water was pure bliss on my aches and pains. I could’ve enjoyed this if my captor wasn’t standing five feet away, and if he hadn’t unleashed hell on my world with the news that the Wolf Street Mob wanted me and my brother dead.
If Shep told the truth, and I was starting to believe him, I was lucky to be breathing. Even so, shacking up with a hitman was out of the question. He might play the good-guy card for now, but a person capable of committing murder for money had a moral compass broken beyond repair. He could change his mind at any minute and decide I wasn’t worth the hassle of keeping alive. I needed to escape. It was my only option, and the only way I could help my brother, too.
I submerged my hair and washed it while being careful with the cut at my temple.
“Nearly done,” I called out, in case he thought to take a peek and get an update.
Shep scratched the back of his head. “I’m not trying to be funny here, but do you need me to help you out of the tub?”
“You’re right, that’s not funny. And I’ll be getting out of this bath on my own if it’s the last thing I do.”Bad choice of words, Cameron.
“Suit yourself, stubborn woman,” he grumbled under his breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
It wasn’t easy climbing out of the bath, but I pushed through the pain and dried myself as fast as possible. I wrapped the towel around my body.
“You decent?” he asked.
“Sort of. I don’t have anything clean to change into.”
Shep spun around. “Right. I guess you’ll have to wear something of mine for now. It won’t fit, but at least you’ll be warm. Follow me.” He took two steps, then turned back. “Shit, let me help you.”
“No!” I thrust my palm toward him. “Lead the way. I’m fine.” My ankle still throbbed, but the soak had helped enough that I could put some weight on it.
Limping down the hallway, I followed him to a bedroom.Hisbedroom. I paused at the door, keeping one hand on the doorframe while the other gripped the towel, my only barrier between decency and nudity.
This room also didn’t give away that the owner was a kidnapping murderer. A large, rustic iron frame bed sat against the back wall, its mattress covered by a wrinkle-free navy quilt. A nightstand and lamp were next to the bed, and Ranger’s dog mattress lay on the floor beside it. Against one wall sat a chunky wooden dresser and wardrobe, and on the opposite side of the room was a doorway leading to a bathroom. A shaggy gray rug covered most of the floorboards, and a couple of landscape prints decorated the cedar walls. Drawn cream curtains revealed the workshop and forest beyond. The space was warm, homey… surprising.
Shep opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a pair of cotton boxer shorts. From the wardrobe, he removed a red plaid shirt from a hanger. He tossed them both on the bed.
“That’ll have to do for now. I meant to grab some clothes from your house before we left.” He scratched the stubble on his cheek. “Guess I got distracted when things didn’t go as planned.”
I arched a brow. “No shit.”
“I brought your running shoes, though. They were on your back deck.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get them from my truck later.”
I jerked my chin. That was as much thanks as he’d get out of me, even though I recognized decent shoes would be important for an escape.
He moved to the doorframe and stood with his back to me. Quick learner. Still, I kept the towel around my torso while I slipped my arms through the shirt and buttoned it. It was so darn huge it almost reached my knees, and I had to roll each sleeve up several times. When I pressed my nose to my shoulder, I smelled smoke. Not tobacco, more like a campfire. There was something else there too, a woodsy scent of timber and fresh-cut grass. It reminded me of the one time Dad had taken us camping. A rare happy childhood memory.
I dropped the towel to get into the boxers and rolled the waistband over a few times so they’d stay up.
“I’m done. Can I use the bathroom?”
Shep nodded, but didn’t follow, thank God.
Entering the small room, I understood why he was more relaxed about letting me pee on my own, and it had nothing to do with preserving my modesty. The only window in here was high and too narrow to climb through. I finished my business and headed back to the bedroom.
“Out here!” he called from the front of the house. I was surprised he’d given me some freedom.
Calmer now, I hobbled along the hallway and took stock of the situation. I was still alive. Bonus. I’d pitched a rock at him and tried to smash a potted plant over his head, and he hadn’t hurt me. Big bonus. He’d been five feet away while I was naked and vulnerable, and he hadn’t tried anything creepy. Extra big bonus. Now I needed to convince him to let me go.