Seduced by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  What if he’d returned since my last trip to the hidden cabin? What if he was lying low for some reason, waiting for me, trusting me to show up?

  Oh, I knew better, but hope springs eternal and all that. Or maybe it was desperation that had me grabbing my jeans and a clean sweater, my hands moving mechanically. Telling myself that I would just go for a drive, I turned on the entertainment system in the living room and arranged the curtains so my psycho stalker would assume I was spending some quality time with the television.

  I grabbed my small duffel bag of necessities—thank goodness Henry hadn’t found that—and headed for Rob’s back door.

  I had gotten my escape down to a science. Each of the back yards had its own character. I knew which neighbors had motion detector floodlights and which ones were likely to leave toys strewn in the dark where I could easily twist an ankle.

  As I darted between hiding places, I dipped into the bag. I worked the blonde wig over my curly hair and put on wire-rimmed, round glasses. Now that the weather wasn’t always bitingly cold, I had a greater selection of outerwear to choose from, and I’d picked a knee-length dark gray raincoat. It was so cheap and frayed that I had nearly stuffed it into a clothing donation box several times over the last few years.

  But it had a large hood, which I pulled over my head. With the blonde hair trailing out of the hood’s shadow, it was unlikely anyone would recognize me.

  Statue-like, I paused next to a wide brick garage and scrutinized the darkness behind me. If I was caught in disguise, that was bad enough, but if Henry found out about the truck, that would put a stop to my stolen moments of freedom.

  Everything was quiet behind me.

  Across the street, next to a six-story apartment building, Corbin’s SUV waited patiently as ever, the hulking shape familiar and comforting. Sometimes I could almost believe that Corbin was inside.

  Within minutes, all pretenses that I was just going for a drive fell away. The truck ate up the miles between the city and the mountains, and soon I was driving carefully up an unpaved trail, my mouth dry, my palms slippery on the steering wheel.

  The headlights showed plenty of snow still at the edges of the forest, but the dirt roads had turned to brown mush after a warm spell in late February. Nights like tonight, it was much colder in the mountains, freezing the mud in deep furrows. It wasn’t easy driving, but Corbin’s SUV didn’t seem to mind.

  I parked where the so-called road succumbed to boulders and shrubby trees. And there I sat. Just because I had driven up here didn’t mean I needed to go inside. Didn’t mean I had to undo a week of sane thinking, good behavior.

  If I walked away now, I could still count it as a win.

  But… as long as I avoided Corbin’s luxury mountain house, I was still in control, right? The cabin was just the cabin. It was his hideaway, a secret hidden from everyone except me. Going there wasn’t intruding because, unlike the luxury mountain house, he’d never told me to stay away from the cabin. Going there didn’t make me a stalker.

  So I slid out of the truck and headed up the path, my heart foolishly pounding, my breath stuck in my chest. “Come on,” I whispered, pleading with every molecule of my being that a light would be on, a ribbon of smoke spooling from the chimney.

  Of course there was nothing. The cabin was just as deserted as it had been a week earlier. That was supposed to have been the last time I would come up here. As was the preceding trip, four days before that.

  At least my visits were getting more spread out.

  I opened the door and stepped into the darkness, heavy with the familiar scents of sawdust, burned wood and slightly stale air.

  There was no need to turn on the light; I had spent over four weeks here with nothing to do. I could have navigated it blind, which was what I did. The cabin wasn’t complicated, just an enormous, subdivided main room with a smaller bedroom in the back. When I reached the bedroom, I switched on the light and sat on the bed. The oversized, cockeyed clock on the wall told me it was after one in the morning. Even if I left immediately, I wouldn’t get back to Rob’s place, and to sleep, before 2:30. It would be another sleepless night. Then a double shift. Then interrogations, compliments of Henry.

  The utter horribleness of my life suddenly overwhelmed me. I was trying so fucking hard to keep it together, to be optimistic, and for what?

  I grabbed a pillow to me, clutched it to my stomach. Even though the bedding had stopped smelling like Corbin weeks before, the memory of his aftershave wafted toward me. I closed my eyes and could see him standing there after a shower, his sculpted torso glistening, water dripping from the ends of his dark hair. I could hear his deep voice, hear him saying, “You keep looking at me like that, baby, and you’re gonna find yourself full of hard cock.”

  I shoved my face in the pillow and sobbed, my body curled so hard into the fetal position that my spine ached.

  So I had failed. I had returned, and this was my punishment. Here, in this godforsaken cabin, the truth rang out. I fell onto my back and tried to breathe through my congested nose.

  It was another hour before I gathered up the shards of my broken heart and staggered to my feet. This had to end. I couldn’t keep falling apart every few days. It wasn’t cathartic; it was a masochistic attack on my psyche.

  When I finally drove away, I promised myself that it was truly the last time. I wouldn’t come back.

  If Corbin was at all interested in finding me, in getting a message to me, he could have done it a million times already. This wasn’t like before, when we weren’t a couple. Corbin had said he’d be gone a month, but he would communicate when he could. Then he disappeared for two months and counting.

  At some point I needed to face the facts. He wasn’t interested in getting in touch with me.

  I set my jaw and turned up the radio, hoping for a distraction. I didn’t want to think about the valid reasons Corbin had for cutting me out of his life. Didn’t want to admit that I should have kept my big mouth shut during our last afternoon together.

  Something occurred to me. I could leave town for good. I had my apartment deposit, and the SUV had to be worth something. The title wasn’t in my name, but it would sell fast on the black market. It had a certain drug overlord appeal. And to sweeten the deal, I could promise it wouldn’t be reported stolen anytime soon.

  How long could I live off that? A few months for sure. It would buy me time to get somewhere else, to reinvent myself.

  And that was the most appealing part. Reinvention. I didn’t have to be Audrey Stroop anymore. I could be someone better. Someone I could stand to look at in the mirror.

  I thought about it all the way home, and after I parked the SUV, I sat there, the engine still running, and worked out the details. I knew who to visit for a fake driver’s license. He’d probably charge me extra, a tax for having hauled him in twice when I was a bounty hunter, but he wouldn’t turn away the business. I could see it now… maybe California. Warm air, warm sand. I’d get a tan. And a job. Maybe in that order. New friends. A new life.

  Of course, if I left, I’d never know if Corbin ever came back. Well, so what? He clearly didn’t care. My parents would be upset, but they’d get over it. And as a bonus, I wouldn’t have to face my father. He’d been hinting that he wanted to speak to me alone. I wasn’t one for emotional conversations, so I’d been avoiding him. It was easy because he was still recovering at home while the doctors adjusted and readjusted his medications.

  There was nothing for me here. Just eviscerated dreams and a past littered with my failures.

  Well… there was Rob.

  A chill traveled down my spine. Leaving would mean deserting him. My twin. My original roommate and the person I was closest to. I would miss him like hell…

  And then I remembered Henry’s face in the bar the night before. …Give us Lagos. It’ll be better for your brother, too.

  I would be abandoning Rob to deal with Henry, who would certainly lose his mind if I vanished again.


  I sighed and bumped my forehead several times on the steering wheel. Rob didn’t deserve that. And he didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life wondering what had happened to his sister. The fantasy vanished as quickly as it had come.

  But I wanted to disappear, so badly it ached.

  Something had to give. One way or another, I was going to get Henry off my back.

  Henry first. Then I’d fix the rest of my life.

  ~~~

  After the breakfast rush, I avoided the front of the diner as much as possible. If a bunch of uniforms came in to arrest me, I planned to slip out through the kitchen. Hiding didn’t improve my tips, but it wasn’t as bad as I would have imagined.

  I poked my head out from the kitchen. The coast seemed clear, so I walked out. One of my tables was looking around for me. Right. Root beer floats. I reversed course.

  I had just finished making the drinks when one of the Britneys—there were three—tapped my shoulder. It was more like a small shove. Irritation flashed from her pale blue eyes. “Table sixteen says they ordered dry toast.” She dropped a side plate of oily toast onto the counter. The toast jumped visibly, but it was impossible to pick out individual bangs over the cacophony of clanging dishes and harried kitchen staff yelling back and forth across the two rows of sizzling grills.

  “Oops. Thanks.” I dumped the toast into the trash, feeling guilty as hell about the waste. When I turned, Janet, the general manager, had appeared, arms crossed. I felt my face redden.

  Her gray eyebrows tightened into a scowl.

  “They didn’t ask for it dry,” I said, smoothing down my black skirt. It really was too short, and I always felt self-conscious in front of Janet, with her aura of grandmotherly encouragement.

  “Let’s see the order.”

  With a sigh, I dug the pad out of my apron pocket and handed it over. She flipped through the mostly empty pages, then thrust it at me and spun away. “That toast for sixteen was supposed to be dry,” she called out to the cooks. “Not your fault, boys. Get it up fast.”

  Damn.

  As I prepared to apologize, my cell phone vibrated in my apron pocket. We weren’t supposed to carry phones, but everyone did. I angled my body away and pretended to be digging around in my apron.

  To my immense relief, it wasn’t law enforcement requesting the pleasure of my company. Just a text from Rob: Bread, corn flakes, hand soap that doesn’t smell like flowers PLS. Thx.

  I used one hand to surreptitiously text back: Ok. Told you I can’t use phone at work

  “Audrey.”

  I buried the phone as I turned, forcing up one of the exhausted smiles that had become part of my uniform. “They didn’t ask for it dry.” Not that I actually remembered.

  She squinted at me, radiating a heartbreaking maternal concern. “Are you having difficulties?”

  Other than my heart shattering and slicing me to pieces from the inside? “Didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “It’s not just this week. You’re bungling the orders. This isn’t the Ritz, and the diners here aren’t impressed if you don’t take notes. You record every detail from now on. Even if the guest hustles up and adds something while you’re standing at the computer. Understood?”

  I nodded. Once upon a time, I’d had a stellar memory. A warm flush of embarrassment was creeping up from where the itchy, starched uniform collar ended.

  Janet frowned. “We conduct random drug screens—”

  “I’m not doing drugs. It’s just been a long few weeks.”

  “I believe you’re capable of better, but if this continues, I’m going to have to let you go. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dry toast for sixteen,” one of the cooks hollered. When I grabbed the plate, he glared at me.

  I delivered the plate to table sixteen, muttering an apology as I passed. Then I had to run back in for the root beer floats.

  Things finally slowed, thank goodness. One of my tables was being bussed, and I stopped by for a tip so minuscule that I practically needed a magnifying glass to see it.

  “We’ll take this one.” Henry’s voice was crisp and clear.

  For a moment I thought I had fallen asleep on my feet, that this was a fun new twist to my Henry nightmare.

  I turned as the hostess, flanked by Henry and his oversized sidekick, approached.

  Janet passed behind me. “Watch your language,” she hissed in my ear.

  I didn’t apologize. What was the point when there was a good chance that I was going to get myself fired in the next thirty seconds?

  “And we want that lovely young lady serving us,” Henry said, pointing at me. I regretted my decision not to hit him the night before.

  “Of course,” the hostess said. She drew out the last word and raised her eyebrows with a smile that said, “Look at you with the admirers.”

  “Actually, I’m on break,” I said as they sat.

  “Don’t be petty.” Henry pulled the menus from the hostess’s hands and looked at her pointedly until she scampered away, her perky ponytail swinging.

  “She single?” Butch asked, his enormous bald head tilting as he watched her leave.

  I put my hands on my hips and swung toward Henry. “What? Not content to irritate me from the parking lot?”

  Henry held up a hand. “Audrey. We come in peace.”

  Even though I wanted nothing more than to dump a carafe of steaming coffee over his head, I kept my hands planted in place. “Go on.”

  “What’s good today?” Butch asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “We’re out of everything. So why don’t you two just go on home?”

  “Audrey!” Janet didn’t even try to keep her voice down. Henry held his hand up again.

  “It’s no problem, Janet. We go way back. She’s just having a little fun. And might I say that you are positively glowing today. How’s Hank?”

  I stared poison-tipped daggers at Henry. I didn’t dare say what I was thinking. It hadn’t been easy to get this job when I had only ever worked for one company and my sole reference was my brother. Getting fired from this waitress position would pretty much guarantee that I would never work again.

  Janet reluctantly walked away, but I didn’t relax. “What do you two want?”

  “Got an interesting call this morning,” Henry said. “Thought maybe you could shed some light on it.”

  “Doubtful.” My heart began to hammer. This would be so much easier if I knew which one of my transgressions was coming back to take a ragged chunk out of my ass.

  “Cut the crap, Henry,” Butch said. “You’re like a bad movie. Stop drawing things out and ask her.”

  “Zak liked to gamble,” Henry said. He was watching me very closely, and I funneled all my energy into keeping my face as neutral as possible.

  Butch slapped his hand on the table. “Damn. I want to eat. Tell her so she can take our orders.”

  I saw that Butch’s attitude annoyed Henry, but all he did was pick up the menu. “I’ll have the sandwich of the day,” he said.

  “Get me a cola and that big basket of fries and mozzarella sticks,” Butch said. He flicked at the dessert menu on the table. “Gonna have some apple pie later, and it better be served with a smile.” He laughed.

  I started to turn away but saw Janet waiting near the kitchen, so I pulled out the pad and scribbled down their orders, then walked the fifteen steps to the computer. Janet nodded in approval, but a vein pulsed in her forehead. Something told me I might be looking for a job even if I managed to stay civil to Henry, and as I tapped in the order, I wondered if it made more sense to just quit. Quitting might look marginally better on my résumé.

  I brought a cola for Butch and a glass of water for Henry and slid them on the table.

  Butch picked up his glass. “Where’s my straw?”

  I dug in my apron and found one of the brightly colored curly ones we gave to kids. I tossed it on the table. Butch started to complain, but Henry silenced hi
m with a glare.

  “Got a call about the results of an anonymous tip. One of Zak’s bookie’s partners was found murdered this morning. He had Zak’s wallet and cell phone.” Henry said it casually, but I knew his interest was anything but.

  “Um… ok. What does that have to do with me?”

  “Those items were just sitting on a table, like they wanted to be found. Funny thing, Audrey, but as of last night, you were a person of interest.”

  “Interest in what?” I demanded. Trying to remain calm wouldn’t have done me any good, and I consoled myself with the thought that anyone who was being casually accused of murder would have some kind of reaction.

  “I know you had something to do with Zak’s disappearance. I don’t know how you got the warrant quashed, but I’m not so easily fooled by your innocent girl act.”

  “Ever consider that the warrant was dropped because it was baseless?” I raised an eyebrow, cockier than I actually felt.

  “You know what I think? That outlaw you’ve been sneaking around with had something to do with it, too.”

  “For the millionth time, I haven’t seen him.”

  Butch was shaking his head slightly, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Dissention in the ranks could only be good. “Let it go, man,” Butch said. He looked at me. “Think my order must be ready.”

  Henry shot his friend a nasty look that nearly had me cowering. Butch busied himself with his soda, but he didn’t look happy. Maybe he was as tired of stalking me as I was of being stalked.

  I took a deep breath. Perhaps this was my chance to change Henry’s mind, convince him he was chasing smoke. “I’m sorry about your friend, but I have no idea where he is.” And because I was focused on the semantics of that, I managed to sound convincing. Zachary was dead. I was one of two people who knew that for sure, but I didn’t have a clue what had happened to him since his death, and I sure didn’t know his final resting place. Corbin had taken care of all of that.

  The scratch-off lotto players at table twelve were looking around. They were on a fixed income, but they tipped better than most.