A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(9)

He helps me load my groceries into the truck, then programs the address to my cabin into his GPS and gives me a lopsided smile. “You’re actually only about three-quarters of a mile away from where I’m staying. What’re the chances?”

“It’s a pretty wild coincidence, isn’t it?” It also seems too good to be true.

My stomach twists as storefronts and houses give way to tall trees lining the road. I’m alone in a vehicle with a man I hardly know, and we’re heading into the wilderness, where there aren’t a lot of people. Usually that is my preference, unless it’s my family, who I know and trust. But right now I’m nervous and uncertain. “My cabin is supposed to have satellite TV. I really like the Discovery Channel, and of course Animal Planet is always fascinating.” I realize I’m babbling, so I ask him a question. “Do you watch TV?”

“Yeah, I watch TV.” He’s smiling, but his focus stays on the road.

“Do you have a favorite show?” This is good. I can learn more about him. Maybe we have things in common other than liking Alaska.

“Sure, depends on my mood and how much time I have. I binge-watch shows sometimes.”

“Oh, me too! Once I binge-watched an entire season of Criminal Minds, which was a really bad idea. I got all paranoid and thought I was going to end up kidnapped by a serial killer.” I glance over at RJ, nerves going haywire.

He’s huge, much bigger than me. And even though I’ve taken self-defense classes, I’m not sure they’d be useful against someone as large as him. What if he’s planning to take me to his cabin and keep me there, like a pet? Or a hostage. I should be panicking more at that thought. As it is, my heart is racing.

He takes his eyes off the road for a second. “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

“Are you a mind reader?” What the heck was I thinking, getting into a truck with a guy I met on a plane? I can actually hear my mother losing her mind over this poor decision-making. If he does kidnap me, I’ll never hear another one of her lectures again. I’m uncertain how I feel about that. I love her, but one of the reasons I’m all the way out here is because the smothering is overwhelming.

RJ laughs, reminding me that I asked a question before I got lost in the anxious spiral of my thoughts. “No, but your expression sort of says it all. I’m just a guy hanging out in the wilderness for a few weeks, planning to catch some fish. You’re safe with me.”

“I hope so.” I wring my hands, anxiety making my mouth dry and my palms damp. Dammit. Why do I have to worry about everything?

He takes his foot off the gas, pointing to the passenger side window. We pass a red mailbox that reads Sweet View Home. “That’s my driveway. You’re not too far down the road.”

A minute later he makes a right on a narrow dirt road, the center of which is overgrown with a strip of foot-long weeds. Tree branches brush the mirrors as we pass them. It’s a bumpy ride that makes me wish I’d used a bathroom while we were in town.

The lane finally opens up to a clearing and a tiny cabin.

“Oh! It’s so cute!” I clap my hands, excited that I’m finally here and I’m still alive.

For the first time in my entire life, I’m going to have a real adventure. On my own. This won’t be anything like my short time at the University of Seattle. It will be peaceful, and I’ll be totally safe. Nothing bad will happen to me here. It’s going to be awesome. At least this is what I tell myself as enough knots to keep a professional escape artist busy form in my stomach.

As we get closer to the cabin, the cuteness becomes questionable. The cabin is actually pretty run down.

RJ frowns. “Are you sure this is the place?”

I dig around in my purse for the paper copy of the confirmation email. I smooth out the crumpled sheet. The number on the side of the cabin matches the address on the email, but the cabin looks a lot better in the picture. “Yup, this is it. Maybe the ad was old?”

“Yeah. Maybe. Can I help you get settled?”

“You’ve already done so much. I’m sure you have some settling of your own to do.” I grip my purse strap to keep from wringing my hands again. Of course now I’m worried that I should invite him in and that he’ll want to stay and hang out, but I’m tired, and I don’t think I smell very nice under this parka.

“I don’t mind. At least let me help you get your stuff in the cabin.”

I shove down the paranoia that he’s only offering so he can chain me to my bed. If he was really a serial killer, he would have just taken me to his bunker, not dropped me off at my cabin. Besides, it would be awkward for me to carry my stuff in while he sits in the cab. “Okay. Sure. Thank you.”

I grab the groceries, and RJ brings my suitcase to the front door. I find the key under the mat like the instructions said and slip it in the lock, hoping the outside just needs some fresh paint and that it won’t be a reflection of the inside. The door creaks its protest as I shoulder it open. I flick on the light and stare at my new home for the next six weeks, coughing as I breathe in dust.

“It’s rustic.” It smells musty—and possibly like something rotten.

RJ sets down my bags and also coughs several times into the crook of his arm. “That’s one way to describe it.”

He turns a slow circle, taking in my little home away from home. It’s basically a one-room cabin with a bathroom and a closet. In one corner is a double bed made up with a comforter that may have been fashionable when my great-grandmother was my age.