Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.”
― Samuel Beckett
Angelo
I checked my hunting rifle, making sure it was loaded before slinging the strap over my shoulder. The deeper we trudged into the snowy forest, the thicker the sludge of mud and snow clung to our boots, leaving a messy trail behind us—like some fucked-up version of Hansel and Gretel.
It was cold. Too fucking cold.
I glanced back to make sure Jade wasn’t turning into an ice sculpture, but she seemed fine. Silent, as promised, wrapped up in a fur-lined coat, thick pants, and chunky winter boots. Winter boots—an actual first.
She wasn’t teetering around in heels, for once.
I shook my head, a bitter laugh threatening.
Maybe I should just leave her out here to freeze. It’d make my life easier, especially after that little stunt she pulled earlier —stripping right in front of me, showing off the most perfect tits I’d ever fucking seen.
The image of her nipples?—
“ Cazzo ,” I muttered, shoving a branch out of my way harder than necessary.
Snow tumbled from the tree, crashing to the ground like the forest itself was mocking me.
My jaw tightened as I moved forward, the cold gnawing at my skin with every step.
Another branch snapped under my grip—this one done with intention.
Greg and I had split up for the hunt—him and Harper off one direction, while I was stuck with Miss Little Nudist tagging behind.
I knew exactly where this was headed. Greg thought it was a test of who was the better hunter, but he didn’t fucking get it—I wasn’t out here to hunt animals.
Suddenly, a low, deep grunt split the air, freezing every muscle in my body.
Jade bumped into my back, stumbling slightly.
“Ouch!” she hissed.
“Shh,” I whispered, my hand shooting up to silence her.
I dropped to the ground, grabbing her arm and dragging us both behind a thick wall of branches.
Our bodies collided, the heat of her so close it almost shattered my focus.
Every muscle in my body fucking trembled, like it always had when she was near—when her touch brushed against me, even just for a second. I couldn’t fucking stop it. I couldn’t control how she twisted me up, how her mere presence undid everything in me.
I pressed a finger to my lips, my eyes darting through the trees.
That sound wasn’t the wind.
We weren’t alone.
Then, a rifle crack—three quick shots that echoed through the woods, too fucking close.
I clenched my jaw, my brows pulling into a deep scowl.
“Lazzio—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, my grip tightening on the rifle, eyes slicing through the trees.
The silence pressed in around us, heavy, suffocating, broken only by our unsteady breathing. She edged closer, her body brushing against mine, her breath warm against my neck as she tried to figure out what had my attention.
Then it came—a guttural, ear-splitting grunt that cleaved through the stillness.
My head snapped up, and there it was—a massive boar, eyes glowing red, charging straight at me like it had been sent by hell itself.
“Oh my God, Lazzio!” Jade screamed, spinning to run.
Her foot caught a branch, sending her face-first into the snow.
For one goddamn second, my focus wavered, watching her fall like a fucking idiot. But then the boar shrieked, a high-pitched wail that sent a jolt through my skull.
I didn’t think.
I raised the rifle and fired.
The first shot hit its side, blood splattering across the snow.
The second tore through its neck. It staggered, but kept charging.
The third shot dropped it, its massive body skidding across the bloodstained snow, leaving a red streak as it slid to a stop inches from me.
The stench of blood and wet fur filled the air as I lowered the rifle.
I stared at the beast, steam rising off its blood-soaked body like it was still alive—still fucking raging.
“Well, that was fucking close,” I muttered, smacking the snow off my pants.
I turned, and?—
Che cazzo.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Jade was still facedown in the snow, sprawled out like some moron trying to make a snow angel. Arms wide, legs splayed, completely frozen.
I let out a breath through gritted teeth, glaring at her limp form.
“Miss Whitenhouse now is not the time to play fucking dead. Get up.”
Nothing.
No twitch, no smart-ass comment—just dead weight in the snow.
“You better be out cold, Jade, because if you’re not, I swear to God?—”
Still nothing.
“I said, now , Jade!”
Silence.
Thick, gut-twisting silence, the kind that settles in your chest and squeezes.
No fucking way.
She knocked herself out. Had to.
I dragged a hand down my face, fighting the urge to lose it.
This is what I got for bringing Miss Little Nudist into the damn woods.
Just my fucking luck.
I knew it. I knew she should’ve stayed back, lounging at the spa or sipping overpriced drinks somewhere warm like the high-maintenance princess she was.
But no—here we were.
Her, unconscious in the snow. Me, stuck babysitting.
I dropped to my knees beside her, gripping her shoulders. I gave her a firm shake, not hard—just enough to jolt her—but nothing.
No movement.
My throat tightened.
“Jade,” I tried again, as I brushed the snow off her face.
Still nothing.
My stomach churned, my pulse hammering in my ears as I turned her over, hands shaking like I’d lost control of them. Her head flopped back, and that’s when I saw it.
Blood.
“Fuck!”
A dark, wet streak ran down her forehead, sharp against her pale skin.
“Jade!” I barked, shaking her harder this time, panic clawing up my throat. Her lips twitched, but no sound came out.
My chest tightened, breath coming short as I leaned in close.
She was breathing. Barely .
“Goddamn it,” I hissed, brushing her cheek with my knuckles, fingers trembling. “Wake up, Miss Whitenhouse!”
Her body was limp, dead weight, when I slid my arm under her knees and another behind her back. Pulling her to me, her head dropped against my shoulder, blood soaking into my collar, smearing hot and wet against my neck.
Her skin was freezing.
“Stay with me, Jade! You don’t get to fucking check out on me. Not here. Not like this.”
I tore through the forest like a madman, branches clawing at my face, snow dragging at my boots. The wolves were howling somewhere out there, their cries slicing through the night.
And then there were the gunshots—closer, louder, like thunder in the still air.
Greg.
A chill shot down my spine that had nothing to do with the freezing cold. That bastard was getting closer, and I felt it in my gut—the kind of certainty you couldn’t ignore.
I wasn’t the hunter anymore.
I was the fucking prey.
“ Cazzo ,” I muttered, tripping over a buried root.
I barely kept us upright, my grip on her tightening like she might slip right out of my arms. Her face was still pressed to my neck.
“Stay with me, Miss Whitenhouse,” I hissed.
She felt heavier with every step.
Blood was still seeping from the gash on her head, soaking into my shirt, warm and slick against my skin.
The snow wasn’t helping—it clawed at my boots, dragging me down. Branches slapped at my arms and face, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Let the forest take its best fucking shot—I wasn’t stopping.
“Breathe, amore ,” I whispered, my voice rough, cracking. “Keep breathing, goddamn it. Don’t make me drag your stubborn ass all the way back for nothing!”
Gunshots ripped through the trees again, closer this time.
I stumbled, and nearly went down, but forced myself forward, gripping her tighter.
Her head lolled against my shoulder.
“Shit,” I muttered, pressing my lips to her forehead. “ Mi dispiace . I promise we’re almost there.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop, eyes locked on the faint glow of the hunting lodge ahead.
Then it came.
A gunshot, loud and vicious, ripped through the air behind me.
Pain. A brutal, fiery explosion to my leg.
It hit like a sledgehammer—white-hot, searing, and savage—driving me straight to my knees.
I collapsed, my leg giving way beneath me, the force of her weight dragging me down. The freezing snow bit into my skin as I slammed into the ground, a cold, sharp contrast to the burning agony ripping through my body.
My vision blurred, the world spinning. My breath came out in short, jagged gasps, the cold air stinging my lungs.
The lights of the lodge blurred, dimming behind the edges of my vision.
I sucked in a ragged breath, my arms locking tighter around her.
“No. No fucking way,” I groaned, forcing my head up, ignoring the searing burn radiating through me.
We were getting there.
Or I was dying here with her in my arms.