Hunted: Chapter 2

Under two thick blankets, I huddled, my phone clutched in my hand. On some instinct, I’d switched off my GPS, then I’d been texting Rory, my best friend and the only connection to my life I was able to keep right now.

Other messages waited, from my agent, my manager, Mom, and more stacked up.

The news headlines probably did the same.

I wanted to throw my phone as far as I could from the cottage. If I could take myself to the door.

Leo hadn’t contacted me. Nor had I messaged him, but it was he who’d offered me this place. When we bumped into one another in Los Angeles a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken one look at me and known something was wrong.

There was no true responsibility for him to check in on me, but I felt the lack of it all the same.

My phone buzzed.

Do you have food? Snacks? Rory asked.

I pondered a reply, my fingers chilled.

The May afternoon wasn’t warm. Nor had I managed to find how to turn on the power for the bothy. It must have electricity, as Cameron had mentioned the lights. Across the open space, a fireplace waited, a stack of chopped wood beside it. Great, except I had no idea how to start a fire.

All good here. Don’t worry about me, I replied, wincing at my small lie. I had a granola bar I’d bought at the airport, but nothing more. I didn’t need to eat.

I worry all the time. After what happened with Derren, I worry that you miss him and are hurting.

Derren. My ex.

Instantly, I was transported back to a dark place. To the issue I’d been trying to avoid.

My fresh and rising trauma.

Except…he was an actor. He’d been acting.

No. He’d crossed a line.

On the set of Huntswoman, our last movie, he’d done something terrible. Then I’d retaliated, and when everyone found out, once again, my name would be mud. Not his. Mine.

I stashed my phone, hid my head under the blanket, and blocked out the world.

Dusk fell, the darkness on my little hideaway bringing a sense of safety. I could still make out the extent of the sweeping surroundings beyond my window. Grizzled mountains, soaring hills, no buildings.

From my perch, I watched a big SUV roll into view.

I knew that car. Had almost been run over by it. Cameron stepped out, his dog following.

I swallowed, not entirely happy with the way I’d treated the man.

An understatement. I needed to apologise, yet it was better if I didn’t make friends with him. Have him ask any more awkward questions.

He lifted a crate from the car and approached my door, rapping once. I hesitated over answering. Perhaps he’d leave the crate and go. He knocked again, and the dog barked as if to hurry me up.

I loved dogs. They were loyal, and always kind, and never ratted you out.

Cuddling up with his pet yesterday had delivered instant relaxation.

I answered the door.

The big man squinted down at me. “It’s Cameron from last night,” he said. “Why’re the lights naw on? Why are ye double-wrapped in blankets?”

“I’m cold.”

His eyebrows merged. He held out the box, enabling me to see the foodstuffs inside. Apples. Cookies. Packets of things I didn’t recognise.

“I’ll build a fire,” he decided, then strode past me into the room.

“I can do that,” I squeaked.

“Then why didnae ye?”

He placed the goodies on the tiny counter in the kitchen corner, then set about stacking wood in the fireplace.

I stayed at the door, leaving it open to help manage my urge to flee. The dog sat next to me, and I dug my fingers into her fur. She nudged me with her brown-and-white head, and I gave her a proper ear scratch.

In a minute, Cameron had a blaze going. The warm glow illuminated the room, and vulnerability hit me again. I could be seen now.

As if reading my mind, Cameron paced to the windows and drew the drapes. “I checked around today, made a few enquiries. No one has seen any strangers on the estate. We’re all kin here, so we’d know if your photographer had found ye.”

I didn’t answer, and he tilted his head, studying me.

“Leo’s busy, and I wasnae sure if he’d had the bothy stocked. I’ve brought ye food that needs minimal cooking, but if there’s anything else ye need, I can fetch that, too.”

“Why has Leo ditched me?”

“He hasnae ditched you. Like I said, he’s busy.”

I folded my arms, more so I had something to do than just stand under this man’s scrutiny. A memory tugged at my mind. Something about Leo I should remember. But it wouldn’t surface. I was already wading through a mire of memories I didn’t want, and my head wasn’t working right.

Cameron waited for a beat and cleared his throat. “Want the power on? It’s from an old solar panel, but there’ll be enough to run the lights, hot water, and charge a phone. Switch is on the wall there.” He pointed to a shelf near the door before moving closer to me.

I took a step back, half outside now, under the bothy’s porch.

“I was going to tell ye about the maps stored here in case ye planned a walk, but,” he peered at me, his expression gentling, “I have to ask, are ye scared of me?”

It was ridiculous. I had no reason to fear this man. Yet I couldn’t help the swell of anxiety at his words. Today, I hadn’t been able to leave the cottage. The daylight had alarmed me. I’d always been such a confident woman, travelling alone without worry since I’d been a girl.

As a child star, my career had taken off before I even knew what the word meant.

Nothing should faze me.

And yet everything felt like an attack.

There was a reason, but not one I could examine. Not without the fallout destroying not only my peace of mind, but possibly the careers of those I held dearest.

Just like yesterday, I concealed my pain with anger. “I’m not scared of anyone. I’m pissed that Leo invited me here then ignored me.”

Cameron shook his head like I’d disappointed him. He took two long strides until he was at my side. Then he eased past, putting distance between us.

I resisted the urge to shrink back farther.

“Leo,” Cameron intoned, “is busy stressing over his wife who is probably in labour. The woman he loves, Viola, my cousin, is suffering. I doubt Leo even knows what day it is. I think it’s okay that he’s neglected ye, considering the circumstances. Sorry ye feel put out, princess, but it’s for a good reason.”

He gave me one last look then walked away, clicking his fingers. His dog sprang after him.

My stomach bottomed out. “I didn’t know,” I called after him, my voice thin.

“Aye, well now ye do.”

The two of them got into the car and left.

Well fuck. Wasn’t I the asshole?

I closed the door, locking myself into my now snug and rapidly warming room. The scent of something rich and savoury reached my nose, and I spied a bowl warming next to the fire.

Cameron had left me a meal as well as supplies. I hadn’t even noticed.

I made a little nest for myself with my blankets on the rug in front of the fire, then removed the cover on top of the bowl. It was noodles with meat sauce, a fork sticking out from the pasta.

My appetite, stifled to almost nothing in the past couple of weeks, returned in a rush.

Strange emotions rose the more food I shovelled into my mouth. This was delicious, and obviously homemade. Whether by Cameron or someone else, I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for me. Or even thought to include me in a meal plan. If I wasn’t on a movie set, I was in the city, eating at restaurants.

Or starving myself to fit into a dress.

I consumed every last bite, then with the fire blazing and my belly warm, I fell straight back into a heavy, dreamless sleep.