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Rafe
“Fuck me hard.” I can’t see shit as my truck plows through heavy snowfall, obscuring the winding backroad leading up to my cabin.
“What do you think, Jack?” I ask my trusted companion, as a Metallica song fills the cab of my truck. The two-year-old wolf-dog barks and looks out the window, following the snowflakes hitting the ground. Usually, Glacier is spared with another week or two of good weather. This beast of a storm took us all by surprise at the Ranger station. I figured swapping Afghan hills for these Montana ones would be a walk in the park; instead, it’s been a clusterfuck of epic proportions. With training new recruits and catching a murder suspect last week, I need a break from everyone and everything, before my demons swallow me whole.
Taking a deep breath, I ease off the gas and focus on the road ahead, my wipers working overtime. “Dammit,” I grunt, my knuckles turning white as I squeeze the steering wheel, channeling someGrand Theft Autoshit. I don’t want to park the truck in a ditch and spend the next five hours digging it out on my own.
Turning up the volume of my weather radio, I listen to the storm warning. “This is going to be a big one,” I mumble. The truck roars and snow crunches under the tires as I try to follow the line of the road. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I grin when Jack starts to whine the moment our house comes into view. I’ve got enough food, wood, and ammo to last me a couple of weeks. Being a park ranger is bliss compared to being shot at almost every day on a mission in some faraway country.
I grind my teeth when my truck skids to the side, and I barely avoid a collision with a snowbank. “Damn it,” I grumble, turning onto the last stretch to my place.
“What the hell?” I kill the ignition and stare at the black van with a red dirt bike strapped to the back parked in my spot. Running my knuckles over my jaw, I hop out of my car and knock on the side door. “This is a restricted area, man, get the hell out before the roads close.”
Grabbing my backpack and hunting rifle from the passenger seat, I whistle for Jack to jump out. I throw my gun over my shoulder and yell, “Hello!” trying to be heard over the roar of the wind. Jack follows me while I walk around the car, wiping snow from the glass to peer inside. Probably some hippie dude who wanted to go rogue and explore. I adjust my gear and scan the area for any movement, watching my quiet evening plans fly out the window.
I need a drink, to crash, and jack-off. Not spend the next hours looking for a hiker after having been on my feet almost nonstop for the last couple of days. I reach inside my truck and turn on the walkie-talkie to report the car.
“This is Wes,” my best friend answers at the other end of the line, while I stare at the tiny wooden wolf sculpture I carved dangling from my rearview mirror.
“Rafe here. Did someone report a missing person or a black van?” I ask into the microphone, leaning with my elbow on top of the car door.
“Let me check.”
I scratch Jack’s ear and wait. The walkie beeps. “Nothing on this end. Should I try to come up your way, dude?” my service buddy asks, another mean SOB with enough demons to match mine.
“Don’t bother, I’ll take care of it and get the stray back before the roads close.”
Laughter fills my truck. “Good luck. I got word everyone up on the mountain is cut off because of the snow, and it’s going to get worse. Keep me posted.”
“Thanks man, I will.” I open the line again. Nothing but static comes out. Shit, the tower must be down.
“Let’s find the fucker,” I grumble, putting the walkie back, the car door almost slamming into my side because of the ice-cold wind.
Jack puts his nose in the air, and his ears perk up when we both hear a dog barking somewhere in the direction of the densely wooded area. “Yep, looks like we’re going to get fucked and not in a good way.”
He barks in response and follows me while I make my way into the forest, listening for the damn dog probably attached to the moron who decided taking a walk in the woods with below zero temperatures was a good idea. Night is going to fall in about thirty minutes, and if I don’t locate the drifter soon, we both might be in deep shit.
“Anyone out here?” I yell.
I hear barking while I scan the area. Jack trots a couple of feet in front of me, nose firmly planted in the ground, sniffing as he goes. There are some faint tracks in the snow. The hiker couldn’t have been out here long. This area can become dangerous very quickly. My land isn’t even part of the park, and I intend to keep it that way, no matter how many oil or fracking companies want to own it. This is my fucking land. It has been for generations, and I’m not about to change for a whole lot of dough, not like my father wanted to do before me.
Out of nowhere, a German Shepherd comes running up to us howling like crazy. Jack jumps between me and the smaller dog, baring his teeth. They stare at each other and touch noses for a couple of seconds. With a loud yelp, the dog sprints into the woods again with Jack hot on his tail.
“Wait,” I roar, running after them, the snow coming up to my knees as my legs disappear in the powder-like quicksand. Both animals stop near a tree and start digging. The hiker is lying face down with a red scarf peeking out. I run up to the guy and start to pull. “Come on, buddy, wake up,” I order, my deep voice echoing through the woods as I shake him. I growl, wiping the snow from her face. Damn, what is a girl doing here? A rush of adrenaline flows through my muscles. Even with her eyes closed, she’s beautiful. I slap her cheek, trying to wake her up. She murmurs something but doesn’t open her eyes.
“Shit, stay with me.” Swearing, I take her into my arms. The camera around her neck weighs more than she does. “Damn it, kid, you shouldn’t be out here.”I need to get her warm and out of these wet clothes.
“Come on,” I drawl, and the dogs follow me as I make my way to my place. Stars are coming out. Lucky for her, I know these woods like the back of my hand. She wouldn’t have lasted here another fifteen minutes. Opening the heavy door of my house with her still carefully wrapped in my arms, I whistle for the dogs to follow. The animals pile in a second later and settle themselves on the dog bed near the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the tree-lined area behind my land.
She stirs while I softly place her on the couch in front of the fireplace and get to work. I light a couple logs with old newspapers to get the flames going, then grab blankets from the hall closet and dump them in front of the fire.
I check her pulse. Shit, it’s faint, and she’s drenched to the core. I pull the expensive-looking camera over her head and wipe the snow from it before placing it on the table. “My apologies,” I huff as I start to slowly take off her wet clothes. She’s limp in my arms, her chocolate-colored hair spilling down her back. Judging by the way she looks, she can’t be older than twenty-five and is definitely not from around here.
Her dog snarls at me and stays put next to Jack. “I’m sorry, Shep, but your owner is in a shit ton of trouble,” I say, placing my rifle on the table.
I feel like a pervert stripping her like this, but I need to get her body temperature up. The fire crackles, and so does my dick as I get to her bra. It’s white like her damn panties. I curse under my breath. At thirty-eight years old, I’ve seen my fair share of underwear, but this girl is something else. She has an hourglass figure, with curves for miles. Her creamy skin is covered in goosebumps, sure as fuck not from my touch. I let out a deep sigh in response and try to stop my fucked up thoughts from running wild about this perfect, unconscious girl, because I’m too jaded and too rough for a woman like her. Still, the indent of her pussy lips against the white lace of her underwear has my dick taking notice, the pre-cum already flowing from the tip.
“Damn,” I whisper under my breath as I place her on the blanket and cover her with another, trying to get her bra and panties off without stealing a look. I adjust my throbbing cock and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Luckily, she’s still out of it.
