It was hard not replay the events of the last few days. Jesus. Talk about a freaking roller coaster. Only a week ago, if someone had told Ro that she’d willingly take part in a ménage—and love it—she would’ve punched him in the throat. Seriously, though. Propositioned for two ménages (okay, surprised with and bargained into) within a few weeks? That had to be some kind of a record. At least among twenty-something professional women with almost no social life to speak of. The craziest part was, while the first one—the Evelyn-Charles incident—had felt so utterly and abhorrently wrong, the second one had just felt natural and right. Maybe it was the lack of a silicone strap-on? Whatever the reason, she couldn’t regret her decision. In either case. And she was working really, really hard to not regret her decision to sneak out this morning. Maybe someday, like when the power grid came back up, she’d take a drive back to Castle Creek Whitetail Ranch and see if they’d forgiven her for running out on them.
Ro’s stomach growled, reminding her that she had missed out on Allison’s excellent breakfast. She paused to unzip the side pouch of her pack and pulled out one of the stash of peanut butter Power Bars she’d “borrowed.” Tearing the wrapper open with her teeth, Rowan heard a branch snap behind her. Expecting to see Graham and Zach’s angry faces, she started to whirl around. But before she caught of a glimpse of whoever was behind her, pain exploded in her skull and everything went black.
Still half asleep, Graham rolled over and reached for Rowan. When his hand found the cold sheet between him and Zach, his eyes flew open. Sunlight filtered through a slit in the blackout curtains covering the cabin’s high windows. The morning was still. Zach’s even breathing was the only sound interrupting the silence. The icy fingers of dread from yesterday invaded full force, this time gripping his heart and his gut.
Graham glanced toward the closed bathroom door, hoping against hope she was in there. He rolled off the bed and strode to the bathroom, grabbing up his pants from the floor. He jerked the door open.
Empty.
Graham checked the floor for his shirt, but not seeing it, he pulled open his drawer to grab another. He rounded the bed and reached for the gun on his nightstand. It was gone.
Only his radio sat next to the oil lamp.
He pulled open the nightstand drawer and reached in for his backup sidearm. It was also gone.
Yanking his pants on, he said to Zach, “Get the fuck up, man. Ro’s gone.”
Zach was out of the bed, looking around the room, clearly confused about what the fuck was going on. But Graham wasn’t confused. He was absolutely goddamn certain of what the fuck was going on. She’d run. She’d fucking run. She’d left him. Because that’s what women did. They fucking left. Suddenly he was a seven-year-old boy again, waiting in a trashy motel for his mom to come back for him. Except this time he wasn’t waiting for shit. He was going after her.
Zach started throwing on clothes as Graham headed into the main room and yanked on his boots. The spot where her backpack had been leaning up against the wall was empty. Further confirmation that she’d run. He strode out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. First stop, bathhouse. Empty. Second stop, mess hall.
Allison looked up from the stove when he banged open the door.
“You seen Ro this morning?” he asked, fighting to keep his tone even.
“No. She hasn’t yet been in,” Allison replied.
“Fuck!” Graham slammed back out of the kitchen, heading back to the cabin, where Zach was standing on the porch, shoving his feet into boots.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Zach asked.
“She’s gone,” Graham growled. The pain in his chest intensified as he admitted it. “She fucking left.”
“She left,” Zach repeated slowly, as if trying to wrap his head around the concept.
“She took my .45 and my back up. Her backpack is gone. The little fool left. And I have no fucking clue how she got off this property without anyone realizing it. Heads will roll if someone was derelict in his duty last night.”
“Shit, man. If she’s on her own out there …”
“When I find that girl I’m going to beat her ass until she can’t sit for a week,” Graham bit out.
“So you’re going after her?”
Graham shot him an incredulous look. “Of course I am. As soon as I talk to the jackasses on watch last night to see how they could have possibly missed her.” Graham thought back to their time in the command post. He might as well have drawn her a fucking map to get out. But she had no idea what kind of danger could be waiting for her out there. Fuck.
He headed to the command post. Ryan was seated at the counter fiddling with the ham radio. He spun when the door cracked against the wall.
“Who was on watch last night?”
“Ty, Jamie, and Travis.”
“They still out there?”
Ryan looked down at his watch. “Should be back and checking in shortly. They should’ve swapped with Cam, Beau, and Jonah ten minutes ago.”
Jamie stuck his head in the doorway. “I’m right here. What’s up? I wanna get some grub and some rack time.”
Graham wanted to lunge at him and throw him up against the wall for letting Ro slip out. Because she had to be long gone by now. She was too damn determined not to be.
“You see anything but deer last night?”
“Nah, man. I would have radioed it in, ASAP. The other guys didn’t see anything either,” Jamie replied. “Why? What’s goin’ on?”
Graham opened the door the led to the armory rather than responding.