A loud crash from the bathroom made her start, and without thinking—or even stopping to put on or search for shoes—she ran out of the cabin.
“Help!” she cried. “Anyone here?” A quick scan of the area revealed no other people or sign of civilization around her. Silke had said there was a resort of some sort on the land, but that was near the front part of the property and took up about thirty acres. How big and how far did that cover? She wasn’t sure, but if she didn’t want that cabin ruined, she needed to find someone fast.
And so, she ran in one direction, going up a gentle hill until finally she saw a large structure farther up. It was done in the same style as the cabin she was staying in, but was much larger and had two stories. Hopefully, that was either Silke’s or Ransom’s cabin. She dashed toward it, and by the time she was climbing up the porch steps, her lungs and throat were burning like she’d swallowed fire. The last of the burst of energy she had was spent on knocking on the door furiously.
After a few seconds, the door opened. “What the—who’re you?”
Unfortunately, the person who answered was neither Silke nor Ransom. Talk about bad luck. Though she thought this man might be a guest, he didn’t look like a typical vacationer, not with his closely-shaved head, dark eyes, and large build. The hand that held the door open had a tattoo of a wolf’s head, and he looked more like a biker, as he wore a leather vest over his white shirt. A patch on the chest said Vice President.
“Hardy, what’s going on? Who—you?” The man stepped aside as Ransom’s large frame filled the doorway. “What are you doin’ here?”
She didn’t know if she felt relief or fear at Ransom’s chilly reception. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who—”
“Cross said you wouldn’t leave the cabin.”
Her nostrils flared. “I didn’t know I was a prisoner here.”
“We don’t keep prisoners, and that’s not what I meant,” Ransom groused. “Cross just said you—” His mouth closed shut.
Alarm bells rang in her head. “Cross said what?”
“Never mind. Whaddaya want?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that was probably supposed to intimated her.
Frankly, it worked, but she didn’t have time to feel scared. “The shower in the cabin. It broke. And now the water won’t stop.”
“The shower broke? Why the hell didn’t you turn off the main valve?”
“Well, I’m sorry, no one gave me a freakin’ tour before leaving me alone for a whole day!” Her hands flew to her mouth when she realized what she had said and how rude it was.
Hardy laughed which earned him a glare from Ransom. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go turn that valve off.”
“The thingy ... uh, the handle broke, and there’s no hot water.”
Ransom’s scowl deepened, then he turned his head behind him. “Proby, get your tool box.”
Her gaze flickered into the cabin, and she realized there were a few more people inside—about five or six men, all staring at her. God, she must look a sight, with her hair in tangles, wearing only a T-shirt and jeans with no shoes.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Hardy said, placing a hand on her elbow and edging her away from the door.
“Buncha degenerates,” Ransom muttered under his breath. “You think they ain’t never seen a girl before.”
Hardy laughed. “Well, it’s your fault for—”
Ransom sent him another withering look. “C’mon, let’s get to that valve before my guest cabin turns into Lake Michigan.”
The three of them hurried back to the cabin, and Hardy headed to the rear part where the main valve was located while Ransom and Sabrina went inside. By the time they got to the bathroom, the shower wasn’t spewing water anymore. She let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. Although the bathroom had flooded, the water hadn’t reached the main living area.
“I’ll clean it up,” she said, “if you just give me a bucket and a mop.”
A figure appeared in the doorway, this time, a young man with a mop of curly red hair. He looked to be in his early twenties, though his baby face and freckles made his face seem much younger. “I got my tools, Prez.”
Ransom jerked his thumb behind him. “In there, Proby.”
He flashed Sabrina a brief smile before scurrying into the bathroom.
Ransom rubbed his chin. “Now, let’s—what the hell are the rest of you doing here?” he shouted all of a sudden.
She followed his gaze toward the front door. Four faces peeked into the cabin, though they scattered away. Seconds later, one of them walked in—an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a friendly smile.
“Oh, hey there, Ransom,” he greeted with a wave of his hand. “I didn’t know you had a guest. Hello, young lady,” he held his hand out to Sabrina. “How’re you doing? Name’s Bo.”
Though the man was tall and wide—which seemed to be the norm around here—his affable expression made her feel at ease. “I’m Sabrina.” She shook his hand.
Bo’s handshake was firm, but not intimidating. “I hope you don’t mind. Me and the boys were curious, and all.” He shot Ransom an inscrutable look.
Ransom rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Three more men filed in, and Sabrina realized they were all wearing similar leather vests as Ransom, Hardy, and Bo. From what she’d glanced earlier, on the back was a picture of a wolf and the words Savage Wolves MC above it.
“Well, lookie here,” one of them said as he stepped closer to Sabrina. He had a wide smile on his face, and his blue eyes sparkled. “Ransom didn’t tell us he had a guest.”
“I thought you said
