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“You have two choices. Jump, or I’ll shoot you in the head. Either way, you’re going off this cliff.”
Rocco held up both hands. “You don’t have to do this, man. I’m nobody—a mountain guide. I got your men through the pass. Just take the rest of the provisions and leave me here. I don’t care what you and your men have done or what you intend to do. I saw nothing.” He prayed he could reason with these assholes, but that didn’t seem likely.
Rocco was fucked. He glanced behind him. He was less than two feet from the ledge. If he jumped, he would die on impact.
Janks, the bearded stout man who was the ringleader of this organization, laughed sardonically. “You know too much, motherfucker. Which is it going to be? You jump, or I shoot? Personally, I think getting shot between the eyes is the better option. Slightly quicker death than pissing yourself while you fall into the ravine. Either way, it doesn’t matter. No one will ever find your body.”
Rocco knew Janks was right. No one would even be looking for Rocco. He was a one-man gig. A nomad who spent his life in the mountains. His current source of income was guiding people through the mountain pass. Looked like he’d picked the wrong group this time.
Rocco had had suspicions about this group from the beginning, over a week ago. But last night had been the clincher. He’d overheard the men discussing what they were going to do with their money after this massive drug run. He doubted they’d ever intended to let him live anyway, but when they’d seen him standing at the edge of the campsite, they’d lost their shit, grabbed him, and tied him to a tree for the night.
They’d needed him for one more day. They hadn’t known the route. They never would have survived and exited the mountain pass without him.
Rocco had spent the day trying to figure out what the fuck to do to get out of this situation, and he’d come up blank. He’d had a gun, but it was now in the possession of the drug smugglers.
“Three seconds, asshole,” Janks growled, cocking the gun.
Suddenly, a shot rang out. Janks dropped to the ground. The other five smugglers turned around and rushed toward their comrade.
“What the fuck?” one of them shouted, advancing on Rocco.
Rocco was just as astounded as they were. He certainly hadn’t shot Janks.
Another shot pierced the air, and then four more. In seconds, all six men were dead.
Rocco lowered his arms and staggered forward to put some distance between himself and the cliff's edge. He was lucky he hadn’t stumbled backward in the mayhem and fallen to his death after all.
He dropped to the ground a second later. Whoever had just shot these six drug smugglers probably wanted the drugs. They would think Rocco was one of them.
Four masked men wearing all black stepped out of hiding, all of them coming toward Rocco, who rolled over onto his back and held up his hands in surrender .
“I’m not with them.”
One of the men came directly to him and offered a hand as if to help him to his feet. “We know. Rocco Thompson?”
Rocco swallowed as he took the offered hand and rose. “Yes. Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we know who you are.” The man nodded toward his three companions as they each dragged two of the fallen men to the edge of the cliff and kicked them over the precipice. They launched their gear over after them.
It all took less than fifteen seconds and left Rocco stunned and confused. He had no idea if he was safe or next on the list to die and get tossed over the edge.
The man beside him reached into his pocket and pulled out a strange gold coin. He held it out.
Rocco opened his hand and caught the coin as his rescuer dropped it into his palm. It wasn’t currency. It had no markings on it except for a swirl etched into the face. “What’s this?” he asked, lifting his gaze.
“A marker. Your benefactor will collect when he’s ready. You owe him one.” Then, he and his companions turned and left—so fast Rocco had no chance to respond or ask questions. He was left standing on the edge of a cliff in the middle of nowhere, holding the strangest gold coin he’d ever seen.
A marker? What the fuck? What would he owe someone who’d saved him?
Two years later…
Rocco stepped out of the SUV he’d rented, grabbed his duffle from the back seat, and turned to stare up at the front of the Danger Bluff Mountain Resort. The structure was old and in some disrepair, but that didn’t surprise him.
Rocco had done quite a bit of research about this place since receiving the certified letter summoning him last week. The letter had the same gold-swirled emblem on both the outside and the inside. It was the first time he’d seen the resemblance since its likeness had been placed in his palm two years ago.
The letter had instructed him to be at this resort in New Zealand at noon today. Considering the mysterious benefactor who’d saved his life two years ago had indeed kept Rocco’s ticker ticking, Rocco had felt compelled to comply with the request. Or perhaps he’d simply been curious. Besides, he’d told himself, what else do I have going on?
What Rocco knew was that this resort had shut down about a year ago. The owners had run out of funds to keep it operating. It consisted of this main building and a dozen cabins in the surrounding hills. It wasn’t currently open for business while it underwent repairs and renovations.
Taking a deep breath, Rocco shrugged his duffle higher on his shoulder and climbed the stairs leading up to the wrap-around porch. For a moment, he considered knocking, but that seemed ridiculous. It wasn’t a residence. So, he opened the front door and stepped inside.
The large entryway was empty and kind of dusty. The only piece of furniture—if you could call it that—was a huge wooden reception desk. Behind it was an old-fashioned hotel room key board. It looked like all the keys were still on it.
Rocco found himself shuffling in that direction. Were those keys still useful? Surely not. Hell, he didn’t even know if this resort was still a resort. He had no idea why he was here or who he might be meeting. Even though he’d read that the resort closed last year, he’d seen no indication someone had purchased it. It was not, however, listed as an available real estate property.
A movement to the left of the hanging keys caught his eye, and he shifted his attention in that direction as a woman pushed through a swinging door, emerging behind the reception desk.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “you must be Rocco.” She smiled at him and then blew a lock of hair off her forehead before reaching up with both hands to tug her ponytail holder free, gather her long messy brown hair together, and reposition the band.
The act mesmerized him. Something about her stirred his nurturing side—a side he hadn’t indulged in for far too long. How long had it been since he’d even entertained the idea of Daddying a Little girl?
As he watched this petite woman mess with her hair, he found himself wanting to round the counter, brush her hands aside, and fix it himself. He wanted to run his fingers through the length over and over until he had
it all gathered on top of her head.
As she finished fussing with it, she lifted her brows. “You are Rocco, right?”
Oh shit. He hadn’t answered her. “Yes.”
“I’m Sadie.”
“Are you the one who summoned me?”
She giggled, the noise heading straight for his heart. Or maybe it was his groin. Both. “Heavens no. I’m the new reception manager. I was just instructed to show all of you to the conference room.”
Rocco lifted a brow. “All of who?”
She shrugged as she rounded the counter. “The other five men. You’re the last to arrive.”
Other five men… Interesting.
“Who are we meeting with?”
She shrugged again. “I have no idea.”
He frowned. This was weird. Like The Twilight Zone weird. He half expected this place to be haunted. Which was absurd.
“Do those keys work?” he asked, pointing at the hanging display. For some reason, that felt like an important question.
“I don’t think so. I think the previous owners just left them there to create an ambiance of days gone by. There are coded keycards in the back room for the cabins and the rooms in this main building.”
“Ahh.” That told Rocco a lot about the resort. It maintained an old-world look but had modern conveniences. Good to know. “So, I guess the cabins have running water and electricity,” he teased.
She giggled again. “Yes.” Her ponytail hung over one shoulder, and she twirled it around a finger. Now that she’d emerged from behind the counter, he could take in the rest of her.
She was about five-five and thirty years old, he guessed, nice figure, shapely. She wore a navy sundress with a full skirt that hung almost to her knees and gold sandals. It was a warm day.
Rocco found himself oddly drawn to this woman, and the attraction was growing by the moment. Her dimples were adorable, and every time she licked her full lips, he wanted to taste them, too.
Maybe he’d been out of the scene for so long that the first woman he set eyes on caught
his attention, but Rocco thought it was more than that. The attraction was instantaneous and not waning.
“Is the resort reopening?”
She nodded, her ponytail flipping over her shoulder as she did so. “Yes. I don’t know the details because I only arrived yesterday, but I’ll be managing the front desk.”
And what will I be doing?. He was confident Sadie had no clue. In fact, he doubted she knew the answer to any of the dozens of questions running through his mind.
She nodded toward the end of the lobby. “Come on. I’ll show you to the conference room where the others are waiting.”
Rocco followed behind Sadie, watching the way she bounced slightly with each step and how her ponytail swung back and forth. Her skirt swished with every step. She had energy. The idea that she was a Little floated through his mind again. It was possible, or perhaps just wishful thinking on his part.
Rocco hadn’t dated in far too long, and he knew better than to date vanilla women. It was always a mistake. He would never be satisfied in a vanilla relationship in the long run, so why bother entertaining the idea in the short run? All that could happen would be hurt feelings. Probably the woman’s when he let her down.
When Sadie reached a door and stopped, he felt a twinge of disappointment. He was about to walk out of her presence. It didn’t sit well with him.
“They’re in there,” she stated.
“Thank you, Sadie,” he said softly. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other.”
She gave him a dimpled smile, and her cheeks turned pink. “Yep.”
For reasons he couldn’t possibly explain, he reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The messy ponytail was already slipping.
Sadie didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, she leaned her cheek into his touch. “Thank you,” she murmured before she turned and scampered away like a little bird.
Rocco smiled at her retreating form for several seconds until she disappeared through the door behind the reception desk. ...
