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  Slowly, my body grows accustomed to the heat, and I turn my face up, letting the water rain down over me. I don’t typically indulge in too many luxuries in my life, but this bathroom is definitely one of those I allowed myself when I had the house designed and built.

  As the water cascades down over me, my body starts to relax. The knots in my shoulders begin to loosen, and the tension melts away. It’s exactly for those reasons I splurged on the bathroom – nothing mellows me out quite like a hot shower.

  Standing beneath the falling rain of water, my mind drifts to Isla, and the memory of her body, firm and yet, soft in all the right places, fills my mind. I recall the way she felt pressed against me and my reaction to her. It’s been a little while since I’ve been with somebody – since I’ve wanted to be with somebody – but she’s somehow awoken something in me. Something about Isla has rekindled a fire inside of me I never thought would be lit again.

  As images of her face and echoes of her voice float through my mind, I grab hold of my stiffening cock. It’s not long before I’m rock hard and begin to stroke myself as I picture her small, delicate hand on me.

  In my mind’s eye, I feel her body – naked – pressed up against me. Her breasts are pushed against my chest, her hand tight around my cock as she moves it up and down my shaft. She starts to pump harder, getting an even firmer grip on me. I imagine the feel of her lips against mine, shudder as her tongue slips into my mouth.

  “Isla,” I mutter to myself.

  I imagine myself pressing her body to the wall in front of me. I lean down and kiss her neck, letting my hands explore her entire body. I feel her shudder beneath my fingers as I slip one inside of her. I hear her moaning my name softly as I start to drive two fingers into her, relishing the feel of her tight, wet pussy.

  I pump my cock faster, electric sensations running through me. I imagine picking her up and feeling her wrap her legs around my waist. I keep her pinned to the wall; our mouths pressed together as we kiss each other furiously. She leans her head back and cries out as I drive my cock into her, filling her up completely.

  I grind my hips, driving my cock into her deeper. I imagine feeling how warm and tight her pussy is, as I stroke my cock furiously. I growl low, struggling to keep my voice down as I jerk myself off. The library is next to my bedroom, and although the walls are thick, I don’t want to risk her hearing me.

  In my fantasy, I cup her ass and hold her up against the wall as I continue pounding my cock into her again and again. I stroke my cock with a furious abandon as I picture myself plunging deeply into her. I imagine staring into those vivid green eyes, our bodies exploding with pleasure.

  My body tightens, and I feel myself hurtling toward the brink as I continue pumping my cock. As my fantasy plays out, Isla calls out my name in a loud, lusty breath. She’s gripped by ecstasy, and her orgasm crashes down over her hard. Her whole body quivering and clinging to me desperately, she comes hard.

  I’m not far behind as I grip my cock even tighter. I throw my head back and let out a soft moan as I give in to the building pressure within me. I lean forward, bracing myself against the wall as I explode, thick ropes of come shooting out of my cock and hitting the tile in front of me. I press my forehead to the cool wall and ride out the waves of pleasure that rack my body.

  I step back beneath the cascade of water and let it rain down over me again, relishing the sensations that are coursing through me. Slowly, I start to wash myself, still wrapped up in the fantasy and the afterglow.

  There’s no question that Isla has had a profound impact on me. It’s one I wasn’t expecting or one I necessarily even wanted. But it’s there all the same.

  I need to not just keep her, and her child safe, but figure out how to get her out from under the thumb of the cartel once and for all. She can’t spend her life on the run or looking over her shoulder. She deserves better than that, and I won’t let it happen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Baker

  I’m up with the sun, as is usual for me. Not that there’s a lot of sun to be had today. After getting dressed, I head for the kitchen, intent on grabbing some coffee. As I pass by the guest bedroom, I see the door is open a bit, so I peek my head in. Isla is laying on her back, her hair spread out around her on the pillow, and I feel my heart stutter. Even asleep, she looks absolutely ethereal.

  Stabler’s big body is on the bed on the other side of her, and he raises his head, looking directly at me. I used to not let him lay on the bed, but he quickly broke me of that bad habit. The way he looks at me though, it’s almost like he’s asking me if it’s okay that he’s there.

  I nod and give him a smile, motioning for him to lay back down – which he does. Honestly, I’d rather Stabler stays with her. They both seem very fond of each other, and the furry oaf seems to give her a sense of peace and security, so I’m glad he’s taken to her like he has.

  I head down to the kitchen, and after brewing up some coffee, I start poking around in the refrigerator. I’m going to need to head into town to stock up on some things. With a storm bearing down on us, as well as having a guest, I want to make sure we have everything we need. But, that’s for later.

  I whip together some breakfast burritos with what I have and power a couple of them down with my coffee. Once I’m done with that, I put together a couple more and put them on a plate in the microwave for Isla. After cleaning up the kitchen, I leave a note for her, telling her that I’m heading out to retrieve her bags – as well as where she can find her breakfast.

  Before I go though, I make sure to grab my weapons and ammunition to go with it. I have no idea what I’m going to be walking into out there. More than likely, I’m not going to be walking into anything. I really doubt Zavala posted anybody out there to keep watch on the wreck just in case, somebody happened to come back to it.

  It’s incredibly unlikely, but I’m a cautious man. I don’t like taking unnecessary chances, and I will always prefer going into an unknown situation prepared for anything.

  Locked and loaded, I head out to my truck and climb behind the wheel. The sky is a gloomy, slate gray, mass of clouds that seem to be growing darker as I sit there staring at them. Yeah, we’re definitely going to get some rain today, if not snow flurries. It’s probably best I’m doing this early.

  I start the engine and put the truck in gear. Rolling out of the gates, I look at the house in my rearview. I have some trepidation about leaving her here alone. Completely alone and unprotected. It’s unlikely Zavala knows of my involvement with Isla at this point. Very unlikely. But, once he does know, it’s probably not going to take much digging for him to find out where I live. Once he does though, he’ll bring an army with him.

  From his perspective, it will be too good of a chance to pass up – not only will he get to tie up a loose end in Isla, he’ll get to kill me too. Talk about a two for one bonus. Which means I’m going to have to come up with a plan to repel an army of murderous assholes intent on killing me. My house is fortified, and I have plenty of defenses and countermeasures, but it’s not impregnable. It’s sturdily built and reinforced well, but it’s not a fortress. Sooner or later, Hernan and his men will find a way inside.

  That’s a concern for another time though. For now, I need to focus on the task at hand. And that task is going back to where I killed four of Zavala’s men – a feat that I have no doubt pissed Hernan off to no end.

  I stomp on the accelerator and rocket down the long, private road that runs from my house to the highway.

  I park in the same spot I parked in before. Except this time, there is no black SUV clogging up the fire road in front of me. Zavala’s men came back to clean up their mess, apparently. I can only hope that Isla’s car is still here.

  I climb out of my truck and sling my backpack over my shoulders. I’m closely listening to every sound in the forest around me, straining my ears to hear anything that sounds out of place. I unclip the holster on my hip, giving me free access to my sidearm, a
nd then pull me AR-15 out of the truck, and hold it at the ready.

  Closing the door softly, I head out through the woods along the same deer path I’d taken the night I found Isla. I move as quickly as I dare, taking care to avoid snapping twigs or rustling the undergrowth as I pass. The birds in the trees around me continue to sing and flit from tree to tree, and the forest is full of sound. That tells me there likely isn’t anybody out here, but I move cautiously all the same.

  I make it to the base of the embankment and look around. Standing in a shooter’s stance, I quickly sweep and survey the land, trying to pick out any hidden threats, as I’ve been trained to do. Nothing. I’m alone out here. Letting out a small breath, I sling my weapon over my shoulder and start for the embankment.

  The bodies of Zavala’s men – like the SUV – are gone. It’s as if they were never there in the first place. Obviously, the cartel doesn’t want to make their presence known just yet. By cleaning up, they actually did me a favor though. If the bodies had been discovered, the bullets they pulled out of them would have been identified as AR-15 ammunition.

  And though it’s hardly definitive proof that I did anything, Sheriff Pinkman is aware of my background, and that could have led to an uncomfortable conversation. I don’t particularly care for lying – or liars – which would have probably gotten me mixed up in shit I want no part of.

  Because if Pinkman decided to hold me for questioning, it would leave Isla alone and exposed. And that just cannot happen. Period. So, it’s best that Hernan’s boys cleaned up after themselves.

  I clamber up the slope toward Isla’s car. The footing is a little worse than the other night, the rain we got having soaked into the dirt, creating mud. It’s slippery and unsteady, but I manage to get up to her car. Leaning in through the open door, I look around and don’t see anything. No bags, no nothing.

  As I think about it though, it occurs to me that nobody is without a cellphone these days. Everybody has one. Except Isla. We didn’t find one on her after I brought her to my place. Where is her phone? I lean in further, kneeling on the front seat, and search the floorboards, under the seats, and in the glovebox. Nothing.

  When I figure out how to open the center console though, I hit pay dirt. Pulling her phone out of the console, I check it over to make sure it’s not busted. It’s in a protective case though, so there aren’t even any cracks in the screen. I try to turn it on and get nothing.

  “Dammit,” I growl.

  The battery is obviously dead, which means I’m going to have to wait until I get home to check it out. I need to do it in secret though, simply because I don’t want Isla to see anything that’s on it just yet. It should give me plenty of information though – maybe even including who the father of her child is.

  I tuck the phone into my pocket, then set my backpack down on the seat. Pulling the crowbar out, I walk back around to the trunk and set to work. The car is so mashed and mangled; I’m half afraid I’m never going to get the trunk open. I’m struck again by how miraculous it is that Isla came out of it banged up, and without any memories, but alive and physically, in pretty good shape, all things considered.

  My muscles straining, I grit my teeth and wrench on the crowbar with as much force as I can muster. The cacophony of twisted and tortured metal, shrieking like a banshee, echoes through the woods as I pry the trunk lid open. I drop the crowbar and grab hold of the lid, forcing it the rest of the way open. Looking down inside of it, I mop the sweat off my brow with my sleeve and nod.

  “Bingo.”

  I grab the two bags out of the trunk and then reclaim my backpack. After putting the crowbar back inside, I put it back over my shoulders, then sling my weapon over my back again. Carrying the two bags, I make my way down the embankment slowly, nearly slipping more than once. The last thing I need is to go ass over teakettle down the hill. I don’t have Isla’s luck and would probably end up with two busted legs, or a broken back. One of the two.

  I somehow make it down without injuring myself though and set off through the woods. I make it back to my truck, throw the bags in the back seat, and hit the road. Mission accomplished, and I even beat the rain.

  I’ll call it a win for the day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isla

  I wake up to a gray, gloomy day. Looking out the windows, I see the sky growing darker, the clouds heavier with the promise of rain. I hear the hard thump of his tail against the mattress, and when I look down, I see Stabler’s sweet chocolate eyes looking back at me. Reaching down, I scratch him behind the ears, and he rolls over, wiggling around on his back.

  “Did you watch over me all night?” I ask.

  His tails swishes from side to side, and he makes a pleased sounding chuffing noise. A moment later, he gets to his feet quickly, his ears up, his body alert. Baker is probably up and moving around. I hear the sound of the front door closing, and Stabler jumps off the bed, running down the hallway after him. A second later though, I hear the sound of Baker’s truck starting up, and then listen as he drives off, leaving me and the big dog to hang out together alone.

  The idea of being alone in the house scares me if I’m being honest. With so much going on, and the fact that there are men with guns out there looking for me, I think I’d be an idiot to not be scared. But this place is practically a fortress and as Baker has assured me repeatedly, there’s no way the cartel men even know I’m here – though, I can never help but hear the word, ‘yet’, whenever he says it.

  We’re both, I think, hoping that Marshal Parr, and the rest of his little army will be here long before the cartel figures it out though.

  As I lay there, all warm and comfortable beneath the thick comforter – and thoughts of Baker running through my mind – I feel a tingle running through my body. A tingle that starts off in my brain, passes through my chest and winds up in my most intimate parts. Despite my best efforts to push those thoughts away, I feel myself growing hotter and wetter.

  I bite my bottom lips as I picture Baker walking into the room – naked. I admire the way all those tightly corded muscles ripple beneath his skin as he moves. I think back to hugging him the night before and feeling the raw power and strength in that body of his. Seeing how big he is might be one thing, but feeling that hard, firm, toned body pressed to mine is something else entirely.

  My breath catches in my throat as, in my fantasy, he pins me to the bed with that dark, steely gaze of his. I slide my hand down, caressing my breasts, and giving my stiff nipples a firm pinch. A low moan escapes me as I imagine him pulling the comforter off me and grabbing hold of me. In my mind’s eye, I see him pulling my panties off roughly, and throwing them across the room. The next thing he does is bury his face between my thighs.

  As my fingers touch my clit – and I’m imagining it to be his tongue – I cry out. I rub my clit harder, fantasizing about having Baker’s mouth on me. I reach down and grip his short hair, pulling him deeper into me as I grind myself against him. I rub my clit with exactly the speed and firmness I want him to lick me.

  Waves of warmth and sensation roll through me, making me shudder and shake. I imagine the way his mouth would feel on me, revel in the sensation of his tongue plunging into my depths. I slip two fingers between the velvety folds of my lips, plunging into my innermost depths. I cry out as I pump my fingers into me, imagining they’re Baker’s.

  “Yes… yes…” I murmur.

  With one hand, I rub my clit, with the other, I keep plunging my fingers into the warm, wet center of me. In my mind’s eye, I see Baker’s eyes glittering as he looks up at me. He keeps licking, and sucking, and fingering me, an expression of pure rapture on his face.

  I press my head back against the pillows and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hold fast to the image of Baker going down on me. I revel in the imaginary feel of Baker’s tongue on me, his fingers in me. I keep plunging my fingers into me again and again, my breath growing ragged, the pressure within me building to a mind-blowing crescendo.
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  I slip a third finger into me and cry out, the pressure and tightness within me building ever higher. I feel myself standing on the brink and know it’s not going to take too much more to push me over the edge. I feel Baker’s tongue plunge into me one final time, deeper than before, his fingers filling me up.

  My body tenses and tightens, and as my fingers hit that spot deep within me and the dam inside of me bursts. I tremble, and my body arches upward, every muscle inside of me feeling like it’s seizing up. My voice breathy, my heart thundering, I call out Baker’s name as I start to spasm, my orgasm crashing down over me with the force of a tsunami.

  I lay back on the bed, my muscles twitching, enveloped in a warm glow of bliss. A smile stretches across my face, and my mind is filled with images of Baker Redmond.

  “Don’t you dare tell your dad I shared with you.”

  I toss Stabler another piece of my breakfast, which he snatches out of mid-air and chomps away happily upon. I know I shouldn’t be indulging the big dog, but I can’t help it – he’s just too adorable. I’m a sucker for this dog, which makes me wonder if I had a dog – or have a dog.

  That, of course, sets off a wave of questions in my head. The biggest one being about the father of my child. I again look at my finger, as if to confirm that I hadn’t sprouted a ring on my finger suddenly. No ring, but no guarantee that I don’t have somebody in my life – which makes me feel a bit guilty about masturbating to thoughts of Baker earlier.

  But, only a bit. My past may be a blank slate, and it may be terrifying, but at the same time, there is a strange sense of freedom about it. It’s almost like I’m free from the constraints of my past – of everything that had led me to my current predicament. If I can get clear of the cartel and not have to worry about looking over my shoulder, the idea that I can craft the life I want, starting with a clean slate, is one that’s appealing to me.