Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(36)

She hadn’t been enough motivation for her father to remove himself from a violent, unstable lifestyle. She hadn’t been enough reason for her mother to stick around. What chance was there that this near stranger who had so much to gain would actually see a reason to choose what was best for her? Not a good one.

Ailish’s gaze strayed to the duffel bag Henrik had brought in from the truck, just before he’d left to make his mysterious phone calls. He’d taken out a fresh T-shirt and she assumed it contained more clothes. She shouldn’t snoop through someone else’s property. No? she shouldn’t.

Whistling under her breath, Ailish slid off the bed and into a cross-legged position, eyeballing the bag a second before dragging it over. She unzipped the top and peered inside. Clothes, just as she’d assumed, but it wouldn’t hurt to look a little deeper. She pushed a hand down the side of the folded garments, freezing when she connected with something cold and metal. After a moment of debate, she pulled out the pair of handcuffs and let them dangle in the air, her stomach seizing as reflected light from the window hit the cuffs, creating shadows on the floor.

Slammed by a sense of urgency, a driving desire to get away from the cuffs, away from the man who could use them to restrain not only her wrists, but her livelihood, Ailish jumped up from the floor. She had no idea how long Henrik would be gone, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be long. A glance out the window told Ailish that he’d left Erin to guard the door, another sign that something was wrong, right? If he didn’t trust her to stay in the cabin, that was proof the distrust went both ways. She wasn’t crazy to be paranoid.

Don’t think about the soft way he speaks to you, asking for your trust. Don’t think about the way he touches you like a man experiencing silk for the first time.

Ailish swiped a hand under her nose and dived for the plastic bags she’d saved as a makeshift suitcase, shoveling handfuls of clothes into them. Her toothbrush, her wallet. She slid the bag handles up her arms to rest in the crook of her elbows while turning in a circle, looking for anything else that might come in handy. The gun. Still beneath the pillow. After grabbing the weapon and making sure the safety was on, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Erin turned with a blank expression, as if she already knew what was coming. “Ahhh. Princess Runaway has emerged from her chambers,” Erin said, without even glancing at the gun in Ailish’s hand. “I’m guessing this isn’t about taking another walk.”

Ailish tossed Erin the handcuffs from Henrik’s bag. “Put one end around your wrist and the other around the porch rail.” Both hands free, she gripped the gun and lifted. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

The blonde twirled the cuffs around her index finger. “These things are child’s play. I’ll be out of them in fourteen seconds.”

Confusion eclipsed her urgency. “But Henrik has the key.”

Erin looked sympathetic. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other. For instance, I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

“What?” Ailish’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not afraid of heights.”

“No.” Erin’s nodded at Ailish’s jean shorts. “Your zipper is, though.” The second Ailish dropped her gaze, Erin pulled her own gun, shrugging at Ailish’s outraged gasp. “Whoops.”

“That was messed up.”

Erin shifted side to side in her boots. “I don’t respond well when someone threatens to handcuff me. Even for fourteen seconds.”

A pain started in Ailish’s stomach. Disappointment in herself, regret for threatening Erin, worry that Henrik would return soon. “Look, just give me a head start. Two minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“What am I supposed to say to the Hulk when he returns? Not to mention my boyfriend.” The blonde shook her head. “Neither one of them is going to believe you got the drop on me. I’m too much of a legend.”

Erin was right, but Ailish could see that the other girl wanted to let her go. It was there in her shadowed eyes. “Look, I have nothing to offer, so I’ll have to owe you one. That’s the best I can do. Just…make it look like I slipped out the side window or something.”

She let the gun drop and Erin did the same. “Henrik isn’t someone you need to run from.”

“He hasn’t proved that yet.”

Erin found something about that statement remarkably funny, but in the end she just sighed. “You’ve got two minutes.”

Relief swamped Ailish. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Henrik will find you and I wouldn’t want to be you when that happens.” Erin pursed her lips. “You better go—he said he’d be back in twenty minutes.”

Ailish threw another thank-you over her shoulder and stole down the porch. She didn’t slow once she reached the crop of trees surrounding the cabins, but picked up her pace. Her destination was the main road, but when she saw three female campers piling into a Jeep, she drew up short.

“Hey, are you heading into town?”

“Yeah.” They eyed her curiously. “You need a ride?”

An image of Henrik returning to the cabin and finding her gone filled Ailish’s mind. Would he feel betrayed? Resigned? The thing about convictions is they run on faith. Now I need you to have it in me. When he’d said those words to her, she’d come so close to believing them. Even now, there was a voice urging her to go back. But then she thought about being promised college by her father, being promised dance classes as a preteen, promised she could go out and have an honest job outside the confines of her home, the operation. None of those promises had come to fruition. In fact, she couldn’t remember a single time she’d put faith in another human being and had them deliver.