Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“On what?”
“Corruption.”
His brow lifts slightly. “That narrows it down.”
I almost smile despite myself.
Almost.
Then his expression sharpens further.
“You found something.”
Not a question.
Damn it.
I should lie.
Instead, “Maybe.”
Rhett goes very still.
That’s never a good sign.
“What kind of something?”
“The kind I’m handling.”
“No.”
The answer comes immediate and absolute.
My irritation flares instantly. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”
His eyes narrow. “Didn’t want to tell me what?”
Shit.
I look away briefly.
Big mistake.
Rhett’s hand tightens slightly at my waist. “Nora.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“I hate how often you say that.”
“And yet I keep being right.”
Infuriating man.
I exhale sharply before finally pulling away from him and grabbing my laptop off the table. “Fine. Look.”
Rhett studies the documents silently for several long minutes while I pace near the fireplace trying not to feel nervous under the weight of his focus.
His jaw tightens more with every page.
By the time he reaches the dumping site photos, something dangerous has settled into his expression completely.
“These hikers didn’t disappear,” I say quietly. “They found something.”
“Yeah.” His voice turns colder. “Looks that way.”
“And somebody covered it up.”
Rhett closes the laptop slowly before looking at me. “How many people know you have this?”
“None.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I cross my arms. “You say that like you’re about to bury bodies.”
“Depends who’s involved.”
I stare at him.
The scary part is I’m only half convinced he’s joking.
Rhett pushes away from the table and walks toward me slowly. “You’re done investigating this.”
I bark out a laugh immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Nora.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“There it is,” I snap. “The caveman routine.”
“You’ve got somebody stalking you, corrupt officials hiding bodies, and now illegal dumping tied to dead hikers. This stopped being journalism.”
“It became dangerous.”
“Exactly.”
I glare at him. “Dangerous is literally my job.”
“And getting yourself killed isn’t.”
The intensity in his voice catches me off guard briefly.
Rhett steps closer.
“You don’t meet sources alone.”
My pulse jumps hard enough to make me furious.
Because he figured it out.
Of course he did.
His eyes darken instantly at my silence.
“You already planned something.”
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Rhett’s jaw flexes sharply. “When?”
“Nobody said—”
“When, Nora?”
God.
“Tonight.”
Silence slams into the room.
Heavy.
Violent.
Rhett looks genuinely furious now, the kind of fury that goes frighteningly still instead of loud.
“Where?”
“I’m handling it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You can’t seriously think I’m bringing you.”
“The hell you’re not.”
I shake my head hard. “No. Absolutely not. If this goes bad—”
“When it goes bad.”
“Rhett.”
“You think I’m letting you walk into a trap alone?”
“It might not be a trap.”
His expression turns flat. “That’s adorable.”
I glare at him. “You’re not coming.”
“And you’re not going alone.”
We stare at each other across the cabin, tension crackling hot and sharp between us.
Because this isn’t really about the source anymore.
It’s about him.
About us.
About the fact that somewhere along the way, protecting him started mattering to me almost as much as he protects me.
And that terrifies me more than the stalker ever did.
Because if something happens to Rhett because of me?
I’ll never forgive myself.
Chapter Twelve
Nora
The old ranger station looks exactly like the kind of place women get murdered in documentaries.
That thought hits me the second I kill the Jeep’s engine.
Snow slams sideways through the trees hard enough to rattle the windshield while the abandoned station crouches at the edge of the clearing like something left behind years ago and forgotten on purpose. Half the roof sags under fresh snow. One window is boarded shut. The porch light hangs crooked, swaying slightly in the wind.
No other vehicles.
No lights.
No sign of movement.
My stomach twists anyway.
I grip the steering wheel tighter and glance at my phone.
No signal.
Of course.
Rhett is going to lose his mind when he realizes I left the cabin.
Honestly, he probably already has.
The thought should make me feel guilty.
Instead, it makes me miss him.
Which is deeply inconvenient considering I’m currently sneaking around behind his back in the middle of a blizzard after he explicitly told me not to.
“Great choices, Nora,” I mutter under my breath.
I grab my flashlight and step out into the storm.
Cold punches through me instantly, sharp enough to sting my lungs as snow crunches beneath my boots. The wind screams through the trees while I climb the porch steps carefully, every nerve in my body pulled tight.
The door creaks when I push it open.
Darkness waits inside.
“Hello?” My voice echoes through the empty station. “You here?”
Nothing.
The beam from my flashlight sweeps across old desks, broken shelving, peeling maps hanging crooked on the walls. Dust covers everything thick enough to tell me nobody’s been here in years.
Too quiet.
My pulse kicks harder.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “This is how people die.”
I should leave.
I know I should.
Then something shifts behind me.
Instinct jerks me around just as a large hand clamps over my mouth.
I scream anyway.
Or try to.
The sound dies against his palm as my flashlight crashes to the floor, spinning wildly through darkness while a body slams me hard into the wall.
“Easy,” a male voice murmurs against my ear. “You’re prettier when you listen.”