The sharp wind whipped at my face, making me snarl as I ducked my head into it. I wasn’t anti-winter or anything. And hell, if it was winter spent cooped up in a warm cabin on a mountain with Holly basically glued to my cock, I’d have nothing to complain about.

But seriously. Fuck that snow.

I growled and swore under my breath as I trudged the last few steps towards the truck. Being out there was the last thing I wanted to be doing, especially with Holly back there at the cabin warming the blankets by the fire. The image of her snuggled up naked and ready for me had my cock pulsing hotly against my thigh, even in the cold weather.

But, we were going to be out of food soon, and the storm was only barely letting up. Which meant I needed to get the damn truck unburied or at least figure out if it was even still drivable.

A working radio would be good, too.

I wrenched the frozen lid of the toolbox on the roof open and pulled out the shovel. I got to work, grunting and digging through the snow. I complained about it, but at the same time, it felt good to stretch my muscles a little outside. I was sore from having basically spent the last forty-eight hours screwing Holly non-stop, but damn was it a good sore.

I glanced back at the cabin, but it was gone in the swirling winds and snow. I frowned before getting back to it, digging and scraping away at the snow until I got the front end clear. I popped the hood, but when I glanced in, I swore loudly.

Motherfucker.

The engine block was split, and I could see frozen fluid all over the place. I swore again as I got down and scraped out underneath the truck, glancing under and shining a flashlight up at the undercarriage.

Son of a bitch.

Both axles were fucked — one wrenched crooked and the other straight-up split in half. Which made sense, seeing as I drove the fucking thing off a damn mountain. But still. We weren’t driving out of here anytime soon with it in its present condition.

I checked the radio next, but it was shot too — a piece of shattered tree from our tumble down the hillside ripped through a tiny piece of unshielded siding and sliced the receiver half off.

…Today was not going my way.

I muttered, hissing to myself as I grabbed a screwdriver and started stripping the screws off the mount for the radio. It was fucked, but not without hope fucked. With some of the tools in my truck, I could probably fix it back at the cabin. My eyes narrowed as I glanced back that way, through the swirling winds.

I didn’t like not being able to see it, just like I didn’t like the idea of her staying there. I liked the idea of dragging her out into the freezing winds even less. But still…

My jaw tightened. For one second, I felt like I could see a flash of something — maybe it was the fire coming through the window or something. But it was gone as the winds picked up again. Just the same, it left a bad taste in my mouth. I knew we were alone up here. I knew no one even knew we were there.

…But the feeling of something being off stuck with me, and my eyes narrowed.

Fuck this.

I grabbed what I could quickly — tools, radio, and the last of our canned food. I reached under the seat for the spare clip for my .45, but when my fingers found nothing, I frowned.

Hang on.

I looked under the seat, that feeling of something being wrong growing more and more nagging in the back of my head. No, the clip didn’t fall out or come loose in the fall. It was there when I grabbed the gun out yesterday, when I went out to see what the screaming was when I first heard Holly.

And now, it wasn’t there.

I tensed, reaching back for the gun tucked into the back of my jeans and pulling it out. I did another scan of the truck, and when I realized my shattered phone was missing from the floor where I left it, the feeling in the back of my head turned into a siren.

Something was wrong.

Someone had been here.

I whirled, and I was running before I even knew it. My legs burned, my lungs aching from the cold air, but I kept moving. The cabin got closer, looming dark from the swirling white winds, and I only tightened my jaw and shoved myself harder through the huge snow drifts. There was still smoke drifting from the chimney, but I wasn’t calm yet.

I wouldn’t be, until I knew she was okay.

“Holly!”

I roared as I slammed through the front door, stumbling into the cabin.

Silence greeted me.

My pulse hammered in my ears, and I whirled, feeling desperation clawing up at me. My hand tightened on the gun as I whirled again, storming through the cabin calling her name.

But she wasn’t there.

I stumbled outside, going out of my fucking mind when suddenly, I heard the crunch of snow behind me. I whirled, a snarl on my lips and my gun raised right into the face of the big, bearded man standing by the front porch, looking right at me.

“Where is she?” I roared, storming over to him. The guy was my size — that is to say, fuckin’ big, and built — and he barely moved or flinched as I rushed him, gun in hand.

“Where the fuck is—”

“You’re gonna wanna put that down, friend.”

The second voice came from behind me, and when I heard the sound of a shotgun being racked, I gritted my teeth and froze.

Goddamnit.

Normal me would’ve seen this setup a mile away. Normal me would’ve seen the unarmed guy and known this was a trap. But my head was all twisted up about Holly — my senses clouded.

I turned slowly, catching sight of the two other guys — both of them also huge, built, and bearded, one looking like a goddamn caveman.

“Down,” the caveman looking motherfucker growled, gesturing with his shotgun. “Drop it, now.”

I heard the sound of another gun cocking behind me, and I swore.

Fuck.

I slowly brought the gun down, uncocking it and tossing it onto the porch.

“What the fuck is this?” I hissed.

“This is us wondering what the fuck you’re doing prowling around our mountain with a gun when we don’t know what the fuck you are, friend,” the guy without a gun grunted. The guy was a handsome motherfucker, I’ll say that. Actually all three were rough but good looking guys.

And shit, none of them looked like Angelo’s crew.

“What the fuck did you do with her?” I hissed evenly, my voice like edged steel, my muscles coiled.

The three of them glanced at each other, nodding as if communicating without saying a word, before the first guy I saw nodded with his chin.

“The girl,” he growled out in a deep baritone, thick with a Russian-sounding accent. “She yours?”

“Yes,” I spat, grinding my teeth as I took a step towards him. “You got that Boris? Mine. You fuckin’ touch her, and I’ll break you with my bare hands.”

Slowly, the man grinned a grim smile, turning to nod at his friends. “He’s not with them.”

I scowled. “Not with who, asshole.”

He turned back, narrowing his eyes at me. “The men who took your woman. And my name isn’t Boris, dipshit. It’s Vlad.”

“You with Angelo?”

He frowned, shaking his head.

“No,” Caveman grunted, glancing at Vlad before he lowered his shotgun. “We’re with us.”

“Where the fuck is Holly?” I growled.

“They took her.”

Red mist clouded my eyes, and I whirled, sucking in air, trying to breathe. Trying to focus.

“That your truck that went off the pass the other day?”

Slowly, I turned, eying the third guy. “How’d you know about that?”

He shrugged, half smiling. “Like I said, this is our mountain.”

“The fuck does that even mean?” I spat back.

He chuckled. “It means what I said. We live here, this is ours. We protect what’s ours, and we know everything that goes on up here.”

“What, you own the fucking mountain?” I grumbled.

“Actually,” the caveman guy growled, eying me. “Technically speaking, you’re trespassing on Vlad’s land right now. He does in fact own this ridge.”

I shook my head, my fury roaring.

“Look,” I hissed, growling at them. “You wanna shoot me for camping in your backyard, go ahead and fucking shoot me. Or you can quit bullshitting me and tell me who the fuck took her!” I bellowed, storming towards them, my hands closing to fists.

“Easy, buddy,” Caveman growled. He kept his gun down, but I could see him tense. I could see the third guy tensing too, his feet shifting into a definitely trained offensive pose.

I eyed him. “You serve?”

He nodded stiffly. “Marines.”

“Well Ooh-fucking-rah,” I muttered back.

His scowl loosened, a half-smile creeping over his jaw. “You too, huh?”

“Three tours, Afghanistan.”

He nodded, his stance lowering. “Well shit, man.”

“Look, buddy,” the caveman growled in that deep rough voice of his. “We’re here because we like to know what goes on on our mountain. Like when armored, all-terrain trucks go rolling down cliffs.”

“Thanks for the help,” I muttered dryly. “You know that was two days ago.”

“You know it’s been fucking blizzarding, right, prick?”

I shrugged. “Fair enough point.”

“We also like to know what’s going on,” Vlad, the Russian sounding guy growled out. “When two luxury SUVs full of scumbags in cheap suits following a rented snow plow roll up to the abandoned hunting cabin on my property and throw a screaming woman into the trunk of one of them.”

I growled lowly, the beast inside of me roaring to break free as I squeezed my hands to fists.

I knew who’d taken her.

“How much of a head start,” I hissed.

The three of them glanced at each other, turning back to eye me like I might be crazy.

“How much?” I roared furiously.

“We rolled up just as they were headed out. Half an hour, tops,” Caveman grunted. “But the weather’s getting worse, they’re in bullshit city-SUVs, and that rental plow they’ve got is going to eat shit fast trying to plow its way back down.”

I nodded, my mind whirling and I turned blindingly, scanning back across the expanse towards my buried truck. I clenched my jaw, feeling the rage roaring through me. It was Angelo who’d taken Holly. I knew it. I didn’t know how the fuck he’d found us, but he had, and now he’d taken her.

Is she yours?

The man’s words rumbled through my head, and I felt my heart thunder.

Because I knew it was true. Holly was mine. And someone had taken what was mine and run off with her.

…And I was about to tear through hell to get her back and make them pay.

“You could catch them,” the third guy muttered.

“Not with a broken truck.”

“You could take mine,” the Russian growled.

I turned slowly, brows arching as I eyed him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you could take my jeep and catch up with them. Get her back.”

“You’re going to just let me take your jeep?”

He smiled thinly. “This is Blackthorn Mountain, my friend. And up here, we stick together, and we protect what’s ours.”

“You don’t know me.”

He shrugged. “No. But I know you care for her, and I can see you’re ready to go all the way and fight anything that comes your way to get her back.”

“Goddamn right I am,” I hissed.

Vlad grinned. “And fiercely protective of your woman.” He shrugged, looking amused. “You’ll find that’s another trait of those of us who live up here.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys, tossing them my way.

I caught them, glancing up at him and smiling wryly. “Look, man, I appreciate it, but why are you helping me?”

“Because this is our mountain,” the Marine growled. “And we don’t stand for bullshit like mobster-looking motherfuckers coming up here and taking people.”

“We’ll follow in my truck,” Caveman growled. “I’m Axe, by the way.”

“Braun,” the third guy grunted, sticking his hand out to shake mine.

“Dane.”

“Welcome to Blackthorn Mountain, Dane,” Vlad growled, pulling his gun out and checking the clip with a practiced efficiency that even I was impressed with. “Now let’s go get your woman back.”