Now every animal within a ten-mile radius knows something is on this mountain with them that shouldn’t be—including me.
What the fuck was I thinking bringing her up here?
The truth is, I wasn’t thinking at all.
I just acted.
Deep down, I just knew that damn woman would never stop on her mission to write this story, to expose the people who tore apart the mountain and almost destroyed all our lives, and if she couldn’t be stopped, then she at least had to be protected.
And given that the Lorells have people paid off all over the East Coast—lawyers, law enforcement, God only knows who else, they likely have eyes and ears everywhere. That means she wouldn’t have been safe anywhere but here.
But it also means there’s no way I will be.
It’s impossible to be safe from this woman when you’re her target.
She appears from between the trees, carrying her dirty clothes, dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt that hugs her curves in a way that forces me to look back at the log rather than stare at her as she approaches.
Part of me wishes she had stayed by the river longer, to give me more time to work out my frustration and enjoy the solitude, but the quicker she gets to work on her story, the quicker this can all be over.
For the good of both of us.
Raven stops a few feet away, but I can feel her eyes on me as I continue to work, stripping the log. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing a beam.”
I peek at her out of the corner of my eye and see her turn toward the foundation I built for my new cabin. Her long hair falls down her back, still darkened from her bath but starting to dry into the light golden color it typically is. “You really did all this yourself?”
“Yep.”
And by the end of next spring, I’ll have this entire cabin up.
She shifts again, turning back toward me. “Where did you sleep last night?”
My back stiffens, and I have to tighten my grip on the draw knife to keep from dropping it. “I didn’t.”
“You didn’t what?”
I glance at her. “I didn’t sleep.”
Her mouth gapes open as she examines me. “Connor, we hiked for like, six hours to get up here. That was an entire day ago. What do you mean, you didn’t sleep?”
It would sound impossible to her—and to anyone else who didn’t understand what falling asleep means for me.
I will take being exhausted and sore any day over facing the demons that haunt me in my dreams.
The faces…
The sounds…
The slick feeling of blood seeping through my fingers…
The tangy, coppery smell of it filling my breath…
I toss the tool onto the ground and grab my canteen, taking a swig of water to wash away that taste that always comes with the memory. It helps, but it lingers even as I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm. “Sleep isn’t exactly restful for me anymore.”
Her gaze softens as she watches me, and I can’t handle seeing that switch flip. I prefer Raven pissed off and volatile over seeing her filled with pity for me.
“Why don’t you go back inside and get to work? That’s why I brought you here.”
