“It’s all lies anyway,” I spit, feeling my eyelids begin to swell. “You’re a criminal. I should’ve seen it. I’ve prepared my whole life for this, and I didn’t trust myself.”
“My name is Special Agent Hawk Crowley.” He pulls out a gold badge and hands it to me to study.
For a second, I believe him. He’s said it so honestly. Not only that, but he’s kind of bad at the whole captor thing. I’ve seen it done quite a few times in movies and documentaries. I’m supposed to be tied up, and he’s supposed to be a whole lot rougher.
“Twenty-two years in service,” he says, sitting on the floor next to me. His large body lowers with a thud. I want to believe him. If I believe him, that means my instincts aren’t wrong, which would’ve been a total blow to my self esteem as I died a slow death in a shallow grave.
“Why are you here?”
His gaze rakes over my body, almost as though he’s hungry.
My body responds, though it sickens me a bit to think I’m turned on by this asshole. Then again, maybe this is my opportunity. My chance to use my feminine wilds for the betterment of my situation. Maybe this man is simple. Maybe he’d be turned on by me. Maybe I could lure him in like some indecent proposal situation. We just skip the money part, and I make him think I’m going to have sex with him until I’m close enough to take his gun. Then, I run like hell. Too bad running like hell isn’t my strong suit.
I stare back at him, wondering how far I could get with my temptress ways, but the longer I stare, the longer I realize I’m insane. This man is a god, and I’m… not. He’s probably looking at me like a hungry wolf because he’s literally going to eat me… and not in the sexy way. My father is a retired detective. He would do anything to solve a case. I’m sure back in the day, flattery wouldn’t have been off the table. I’m sure that’s all Hawk is doing. The few kind things he’s said to me have all been a ruse to get me to help him solve whatever crime he’s trying to solve.
When my seduction plan fizzles out in my head, I look around the cabin, searching for something that would come in good use, but it’s bare, intentionally so. The shack is only meant to be a small reprieve from a storm for hikers who need a break. There aren’t any amenities except for whatever food the last person has left behind and the logs in the fire. Even the log poker is too worn to use as a weapon.
When my eyes finally drag back to his, he’s dialed on me, watching me, studying my every move.
“What?” I run my hands back through my hair. My skin is hotter than it was before.Why?
“You’re thinking about leaving,” he says. “You’re planning it. I saw you doing it on the path as well.”
“No. I’m waiting for you to tell me why you’re here, Special Agent Something or Other.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and straightens his back, setting his broad shoulders wide before pulling his phone from his pocket and swiping a few times. He hands the screen toward me. “Have you seen this man?”
I study the photo of the black-haired man. His beard is grungy, and he has a tattoo on his left temple of a snake that wraps around his neck. “No. Who is he, and why would I know him?”
“He’s the guy I’m looking for.” He takes his phone back and tucks it into his pocket. “What about a plant called morning glories? It’s a late season blue flower that grows on vines with heart petals.”
My brows narrow. “Yeah. Historically, people here used their seeds as a hallucinogenic. Fortunately, modern people stay away from them because they taste terrible, and they aren’t really cost efficient since it takes a fair amount of seeds to get most people where they want to go.” I give him a snide smile. “Is all of this because you’re trying to get high?”
He pokes at the fire with the long stick and sparks fly up the flume. “I need you to take me to where it grows in the morning.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why do you want to go there? It’s not worth anything, trust me.”
His shoulders rise and fall slowly. “There’s a guy up here from Juneau. His name is Jeramiah Wilcox. He’s been traveling to this area for years, collecting the seeds and bringing them back to Alaska to replant.”
“Okay,” I say as my voice rises and falls sarcastically. “Is that a crime? If it is, it seems it would be Rugged Mountain’s axe to grind.”
Hawk shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. This guy has built a cult around the worship of this flower. He believes that it’s a conduit sent by a higher power and that the hallucinations bring him closer to that force, which gives him and his people the answers to whatever is ailing them. Except the answers aren’t coming from the flower, they’re coming from him. He’s mass producing the seeds and gaining followers, mostly young women who believe every sick thing he’s telling them.” He lets out a sigh. “That’s who you saw in the woods. He’s here for more seeds. Despite his attempts to grow the same strain in Alaska, they don’t do as well as the ones grown natively here. It could be the soil or the climate, but it keeps him coming back as he tries to gather more followers. I’ve been tracking him around Alaska for months, but he moves. The only way I knew for sure I could get him was here, in the one spot this particular strain of morning glories grows… on Rugged Mountain.”
I stare blankly toward the handsome man in front of me. I study his firm, square jaw, and the slight dimple that dots the center of his chin. I can’t deny my attraction to him. Even in this stressful scenario, I notice him in a way that’s unbecoming. That said, he’s full of shit. This is a small town. People would know if some psycho cult leader were hiking into our mountains to harvest hallucinogenic seeds… right?
We would know.Hawk is lying. Even if he’s not, I don’t want to be mixed up in some chase for a man who’s smuggling hallucinogens and brain washing people. I need to run. Hawk hasn’t been honest with me. He could be lying again. I can’t trust him. In one quick motion, I stand from the chair where I’ve been sitting and make a mad dash toward the door, pulling it open only to be pulled back into the cabin by Hawk’s strong arms.
“This isn’t pleasant for me either,” he growls. “I don’t want to kidnap you.”
“Oh really? Then why don’t you let me go!”
“Trust me,” he spits, “I want to. But apparently, I enjoy the torment.”
“You’re being tormented?” He’s leaned me back against the cabin wall and pins my wrist above my head. “I’m the one being held against my will.”
“For good cause. Jeramiah Wilcox saw you. You said so yourself. Do you know what a man like that is capable of?” He looks away, then back again. “One of the women tricked by Jeramiah was my teenage niece. She wanted to believe that there was a fast track to happiness after some rough years in high school, and he was going to be able to take her there. The night that it came across the radio that she overdosed… was the most difficult day of my life.”
I stand still for a moment, letting my lungs catch up with my racing heart. That can’t be true. Fuck him and his stupid lies. “So what if he saw me? He’s long gone by now, I’m sure.”