Sixty-Seven

Justin balanced the food and six-pack of soda in his hands, opened the cabin door, and stepped inside. With his hip he pushed the door closed, then he stomped the excess snow from his boots before placing the items on the rectangular-shaped coffee table. His attention moved to Brooke sitting on the floor, switching stations on the big screen TV.

He hadn’t been outside that long, but the cool temperature had subdued his system and his logical thinking returned. Letting his anger settle, he inwardly cursed Brooke for being here. Although a stupid mistake, she may have inadvertently put herself in danger, too. If the man searching for him found Brooke, he might not hesitate to kill her. Tony Pierpont was a ruthless man. He wouldn’t let anything get in the way of something he wanted.

If, by chance, the killer didn’t find them here, Justin was still in trouble. Having a woman this beautiful in his presence wasn’t good, either. The only logical plan w