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“Every end is a new beginning.”
~ Anonymous
PROLOGUE
ESCAPING THE DARKNESS
Chase
The Ford Bronco Raptor was put to the test as it rocked and rolled up the dirt lane. As best as I could, I skirted the massive potholes filled with mud from the last storm, overgrown weeds and brush encroaching on the path making it even more narrow, and long, deep ruts reminding me of miniature versions of the Grand Canyon.
I had traded in my Audi A8 for this very reason.
Buying the four-by-four had been the right choice. The real estate agent had warned me about the lane, not to mention the amount of snowfall the area received in winter. I had taken that warning seriously.
Especially after the agent sent me pictures. Tons of pictures.
Of everything. Not just the run-down lane.
Pictures that anyone in their right mind would have them immediately walking away from the property. No, not walk, sprint.
As much as the agent wanted the commission, he also wanted to be upfront with me since I was buying the property sight unseen.
A risky buy for sure.
A risk I was willing to take for privacy and some peace.
I needed a fresh start in a place where no one knew me or about what happened. The remote cabin on a mountain right outside of Eagle’s Landing, Pennsylvania, seemed to be the perfect spot.
I hoped so.
I needed to find my mojo again as soon as possible. It had been gone as long as…
I slammed the brakes on that thought before it festered.
I bounced wildly in the driver’s seat as the Ford crept up the last few yards of the lane and finally arrived at the edge of the clearing.
A clearing that needed just as much work as the dirt lane.
I paid the agent to have someone trim it back as best as they could, to have the shabby shingled roof replaced with metal, install a large emergency generator—since power failure up on the mountain was a given—and have the five-hundred-gallon propane tank filled. But the rest… I had decided to tackle that after I arrived, either by attempting to do the work myself or hiring local people. Attempt was the key point since I didn’t have any kind of construction experience. I’d never done any handiwork around my previous homes before.
There was a first time for everything. Luckily, YouTube was full of tutorial videos for everything under the sun.
I figured being forced to do some manual labor could be good therapy. It might also help spark my creativity. That had been in the toilet since… that day. The day I was trying not to dwell on.
After shifting the Bronco into Park and shutting down the engine, I stared at what was in front of me. My “new” home.
At that moment, I realized I had really lost my fucking mind.
Now that I was seeing the cabin in person… reality smacked me across the forehead with a sledgehammer. It appeared way worse in person and I hadn’t even seen the inside yet.
For a second, I wasn’t sure I should.
“What the fuck are you doing, you idiot?” My whisper replaced the silence in the Ford’s interior. “What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you ever think you could do this?”
Jesus Christ. I should turn my Bronco around and…
No. I should first burn that rat-trap cabin to the ground, then turn my Bronco around, head back down the mountain, find a comfy motel and then another place to live. Tell the agent to sell the two hundred acres of wooded mountain land to someone who could build something better from scratch. Someone other than me.
I had bought this property mainly because the amount of acreage surrounding the cabin ensured I’d have no neighbors. Plus the fact it butted up against a huge pond or small lake, however the hell it was classified. No matter what it was called, it was a nice sized body of water.
As a bestselling author, I should know how to describe things better. However, right now, I didn’t give a shit about accurate descriptions. Instead, my focus was on how the hell I would survive here.
I scratched at the week-old growth of stubble on my face as I contemplated both my next steps and the cedar-plank-sided cabin before me.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath and shoved open the driver’s door, unfolding myself with a groan.
My forty-fifth birthday had come and gone a few months ago without any fanfare, but left behind gifts I could’ve done without. Aching bones, insomnia, stiff joints, blurry vision and more.
But all that I had expected. Growing old alone, I had not.
I blew out a sharp breath. I needed to stop procrastinating, go inside, check out the cabin and see if it was possible to sleep there tonight or if I’d have to backtrack into town and find somewhere better. At least until I could make the cabin somewhat habitable.
