Three Swedish Mountain Men: Chapter 3

I probably should have argued harder, I reflect, as I watch the snow-covered forest roll by outside the window. I think I read somewhere that your chances of escaping a kidnapping drop by ninety-five percent once they get you in the car. I don’t know these men. They could be anyone.

Honestly, though, I’m really starting to not feel well. Now that all of the adrenaline has flooded out of me, I can’t stop shaking. My brain is all slow and foggy, and my neck is killing me. I guess it’s an after-effect of being slammed back against my seat.

“You’re sure you can’t take me back to the town?” I ask Cole, peering through the windshield. The terrain is getting steeper as we climb through the mountains. Fear clutches me. How high up do these guys live? I was told Kiruna, where I’m meant to be staying, is the northernmost town in all of Sweden, but we’ve been driving for a while now without any signs of stopping.

His hands clench on the steering wheel. “No.”

“How do I know you’re not kidnapping me?”

“You don’t.”

“Great,” I mutter. “Fantastic.”

Whatever. I figure I don’t really have a choice. If he’s right, and a storm is coming, I would’ve died anyway. At least getting axed into little pieces will be quicker than suffocating under several feet of snow.

I glance around the car. It’s a worn, sturdy-looking truck with dark leather seats. There are winter coats stacked on the backseat next to me, and the trunk is full of cardboard boxes and tools.

I eye them suspiciously. “There’s a gun back here.”

“Yes,” Cole answers.

“And an axe.”

“Well spotted.”

“Care to explain why?”

He turns a corner, and we enter an even thicker patch of forest. The trees are so close together they absorb the car’s headlights, darkening the road.

“No.”

Excellent.

Eli turns and tosses me a grin. “Don’t worry, babe. We’re taking you someplace safe. I promise.”

Cole mutters something under his breath, and Eli rolls his eyes. The men start arguing in rapid Swedish, and I sink down in my seat, closing my eyes against my pounding headache.

I wake up with a jolt as the car cranks to a stop. I must have dozed off. The guys are both unbuckling and slipping into snowshoes.

We’ve pulled up in front of a decent-sized cabin, surrounded by sparse, frozen trees. The walls are made of red-painted wooden planks, and there are gold lights shining in the windows. It’s like something out of a Christmas card.

I sit up in my seat to get a better view, and almost cry out as pain sears down my neck. It’s even stiffer than it was before, and I grit my teeth against the tears that pop up in my eyes.

A blast of freezing air hits me as Eli opens my door. “Need a hand?” He asks cheerfully.

“I got it,” I mutter, sliding out of the car and into the snow. I immediately sink almost to my knees. Freezing water soaks through the fabric of my jeans. Grimacing, I look around, taking in my surroundings.

Snow is falling from the sky, thicker than before. It’s hard to see through the flurry of fat flakes. Apart from a big wooden storage shed, there aren’t any other buildings nearby. I guess these guys must live completely isolated. Alone in the woods. No nosy neighbours hanging around to hear the screams of their victims.

Great.

Eli and Cole both lug crates from the boot of the truck and head for the front door. I try to follow, but when I step forward, my foot just sinks. I yank my back leg out of the snow and push forward again. It’s like wading through quicksand. I only make it about three metres before my foot catches on something hidden under the snow. I lose my balance, tottering, then trip forward. I throw my arms out, bracing myself for a faceful of snow—

And a pair of strong arms wrap around my body. I’m lifted up and pressed against someone’s chest.

I look up to see Cole carrying me, as if I’m as light as a kid. From this close, I can make out the soft blonde bristles shading his jaw. I watch a snowflake melt against his skin. “We don’t have all day,” he mutters, stalking ahead. He crosses the distance from the car to the cabin in just a few long steps, then very, very gently sets me down in the doorway next to Eli.

“Get her inside. I’m going to put her car in the barn,” he says gruffly, then disappears.

Eli pulls open the front door and holds it for me. “After you,” he says brightly.

Swallowing down nerves, I step inside the cabin.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. A blood-spattered abattoir? The bodies of all their former victims hanging from the ceiling on meat hooks?

It’s actually a really lovely little home. The front door leads right into the living room. On the wall to my right is a set of closets and hooks, I guess for shoes and coats. To my left, there’s a squashy-looking sofa and a couple of armchairs clustered around a coffee table. A cheerful fire crackles in a fireplace, and the wooden walls are hung with electric lights that emit a soft gold glow.

I take another cautious step inside, looking around. There are bookshelves lining the walls.

A big dining table, surrounded by mismatched chairs. The living room is open plan, and I can see through to a small, brightly lit kitchen.

“Riv!” Eli calls behind me, pulling off his coat. “Look what we found!”

A man appears in the kitchen doorway, holding a steaming mug. I blink a bit as he steps into the light. Holy crap.

He’s stunning. Deep brown skin, high cheekbones, full lips. He’s wearing a white pressed shirt, open at the collar. The sleeves are rolled up, showing off impressively thick forearms dusted with dark hair. His eyes are sharp and cool behind a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses. As he runs his gaze down me, I almost feel like I’m getting examined.

“Hi,” I say, embarrassed. “Um. Sorry to barge in.”

He ignores me and glances over my shoulder. “Eli. What is this?” His voice is calm and deep, without a trace of an accent.

“It’s a girl.” Eli helps me out of my coat. “I know you’ve been up here a while, but surely you must have seen one before.”

A muscle tics in the man’s jaw. “Why is she here?” He emphasises.

“Her car broke down. We couldn’t just leave her in the storm, so we brought her back here.”

“And now, what? She’s just going to stay here?”

“What was I meant to do?” Eli gently pushes me into an armchair and bends to take off my boots. I try to push him off—I’m not a baby—but when I lean forward, pain sears through my neck, and I have to straighten, wincing. He gives me a sympathetic look, kneeling at my feet and tugging at the laces of my snow-covered shoes. “Should we have left her to die?”

“We don’t have a guest room,” the man says icily.

“Oh, she’s only little,” Eli says cheerfully. “I’m sure we can squeeze her in somewhere.”

“She has a name,” I cut in, getting fed up with them talking over my head. “I’m Daisy. It’s nice to meet you.”

The man’s eyes flick over me again. “Riven.”

The door behind me opens, and snow breezes into the hallway as Cole comes inside, stamping snow off his boots. “Cole,” Riven snaps. “What is happening.”

Cole jerks his chin at me. “Check her out,” he orders gruffly.

“What? Why?” Riven demands. “Who is this girl?”

I shake my head. I’ve had enough of this. Clearly, Eli is the only person who wants me here. “You know what, maybe I should just go. I’m sure there’s a hotel or something nearby I can stay at.”

I try to slide off the chair, but apparently, after everything that’s happened today, my body has finally given up. My knees wobble and bend underneath me.

“Woah.” Three pairs of hands grab at me; Cole’s at my shoulders, Eli’s at my hips, and Riven’s at my waist. I don’t know how he crossed the room so fast. I have to fight the urge to gasp as the three men push me back into the chair. It’s overwhelming to be touched in so many places, with so many big, warm hands.

Eli squeezes my calf. “We think she hit her head in the crash. She’s not feeling too good.”

Riven’s attention snaps back to me. “You’re hurt?” He demands.

“My neck hurts a bit,” I admit.

“You should’ve said.” He turns and heads to the kitchen. “Put her on the table. I need her under the light.”

I yelp as Cole’s arms slide around me again and I’m lifted right off the ground. He carries me over to the dark wood dining table. “I can walk myself,” I mutter.

“Did you learn recently? You’re not good at it.”

Riven washes and dries his hands, then comes to stand in front of me. I can’t believe how big he is. Even though I’m sitting on the table, he still towers over me. All of the men seem unnaturally large; Eli is the shortest, and he’s still definitely over six feet.

Riven’s dark eyes are intent as he studies my face. “Are you nauseous? Confused?”

“A bit.” Who wouldn’t be confused right now?

“Head hurt?”

I wince. “It’s killing me.”

His lips turn down. “Hm.” He takes my head in his hands. I jump a bit at his cold palms. “Alright. I’m just going to check your head and neck for injury. Please stay still. This might hurt.”