Unwrapping His Mountain Package

They’d come out of nowhere, half an hour after Dane had trekked back to the truck for supplies and to see how bad the damage was. I’d been trying to fix the cabin up a little bit — nailing some more boards over some of the holes in the wall and bring in more wood for the fire. So at least I was dressed.

But still. That door crashing open and my asshole ex-boyfriend and four of Angelo’s guys coming charging in at me had been terrifying. I’d screamed, kicking and lashing out, and I knew I got two of them pretty good in the face before they pinned me down and dragged me out to their cars.

And all I’d been able to think about was Dane, and how he’d come back to find me just gone without a trace.

And now, here we were, an hour later and barely that much further down the mountain, stuck in a huge snow drift across the road. The men had rented a big snow plow truck that was driving ahead of the two SUVs, but even I knew just looking at it that there was no way it would cut through the snow up here on that mountain. I’d trudged through the three and four-foot drifts from the truck to the cabin — a basic rental plow was barely going to put a dent in it if we hit any real snow.

And of course, we had.

Their plan was to haul me back to Angelo. That much I’d gleaned from the back seat, wedged between two mafia assholes who stunk like cigars with guns pressed to my ribs. The hunt was on for Dane, too. But for now, they were taking me back so that Angelo could get me to this “Mr. Black” as promised.

I’d shivered at that thought, and now, stuck in the snow, I shivered again as the frozen wind whipped over us.

“Get it moving!” Tony bellowed at the mafia guy poking his head under the hood of the rental plow.

“I ain’t a mechanic!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Tony spat back, waving his gun heatedly. “Just fuckin’ fix it!”

I wasn’t tied up, but then, where was I going to go? I was freezing in just a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Hell, my shoes were a pair of Dane’s sneakers from the truck, and they were comically big on me. I leaned against the SUV, hugging myself and shivering as I tried to rub warmth into my arms.

“Goddamnit!” Tony spat, whirling and kicking at the snow. I was already familiar with Tony’s childish outburst and his tendency towards violence, so I just kept my head down. And my only thought was that the longer we stayed here, the more of a chance I had of Dane realizing what’d happened and following our tire tracks to finds us.

And yet, there were six of them, and one of him.

I closed my eyes, trying to think of warmth. Trying to think Dane, and not the horrible fate I was headed to.

“Where’s the fucking driver, Holly?”

I opened my eyes, but I didn’t look up as Tony stomped over to me.

“Where is he?”

I just shook my head. “I— I don’t know. We crashed and I guess he took off.”

“Bullshit!”

Tony’s fist smashed into the car next to me, denting it and making me jump. “Bullshit, you lying little bitch! You’re wearing his fucking clothes.”

I glanced up sharply to see the sneer on Tony’s smarmy face. “Gee, I wonder what you did to get his clothes, you fucking whore.”

“Get fucked,” I hissed at him. “Prick.”

Anger welled in his eyes, and I could see violence brewing there, ready to strike out at me, when one of Angelo’s guys hollered.

“Hey, Tony!”

I froze, his lips pulled back in a sneer, his hand closing to a fist as he brought it up and shook it in front of my face.

“You talk to me like that again and I’ll knock that pretty smile right off your face,” he grumbled, before he turned to the man who’d called. “What the fuck is it?”

“You gotta call Angelo.”

“No way.”

He started to move towards the other guys, and when I saw all six of them starting to huddle up to figure out what they were doing, I realized I had a shot.

It was a small, small shot, and one that I knew might get me in serious trouble, or killed. But, I knew I had to take it. I knew chancing it was better than being dragged back to Angelo and then shipped off to some mystery creep like a consolation prize, or a present.

Fuck that.

I glanced at the men as they started lighting cigars and muttering amongst themselves about whether or not to call Angelo. I turned, glancing behind the SUV at the few feet of open snow before the tree line.