Chapter 17
LIAM
I ease open the cabin door to complete silence.
It may seem empty, but Lucky’s scent permeates the air, her presence very real in the space, even if I don’t see her or hear her.
The living room and kitchen stand unused, despite having encouraged her to come down and eat or read by the fireplace.
Which means she probably hasn’t moved since I left to go talk to Killian and Connor over an hour ago.
We needed to debrief after the unexpected meeting with Snow instead of Truman, to regroup after the man told us—in no uncertain terms—how precarious Lucky’s situation really is.
I shouldn’t have left her…
Worry burns a hole through my stomach as I climb the stairs to the loft and find Lucky sitting in the chair in the corner with Gizmo curled up next to her, petting him almost absently as she stares straight ahead at nothing—not down at the book she told me she was coming up here to read.
In all the time I was gone, she hasn’t turned a single page.
Her other hand still rests spread out across it, holding the book open in the same place it was when I kissed her goodbye and she insisted she was okay.
Which she definitely is not.
She’s a million miles away.
That glassy look in her eyes doesn’t fade as I watch her. She doesn’t even see me here or react when Giz lifts his head and wags his tail, excited for my return and anticipating my approach.
The fact that she’s practically catatonic is likely the only reason he didn’t already leap from the chair and bolt down to greet me at the door the moment I opened it.
I draw in a heavy breath, then walk over and close the book, setting it on the table beside her.
Lucky glances up at me, her eyes clearing. “What’d you do that for?”
“Because you weren’t reading it, anyway.”
I glance at the title I hadn’t bothered to check when she grabbed it from the shelf down near the fireplace earlier, cringing slightly at her choice of reading materials.
Othello…
A story about manipulation and deceit of someone who trusts you wouldn’t be high on my list of options for her right now, but I doubt she even read the spine when she took it or glanced down at the first page.
I hold my hand out to her. “C’mon.”
Her brows rise slowly. “Where are we going?”
“Away from here. You’ve spent too long cooped up in the shop, in this cabin, and on this homestead. And after today, you need a change of scenery.”
Hopefully, one that can help her snap out of this downward spiral she seems to be stuck in.
Things should be advancing, getting better, but Snow reminded us that nothing actually moves fast when it comes to the government, especially back-door plea negotiations.
That has left all of us hanging in the wind again.
Waiting.
Like I am now for her to take my proffered hand.
Lucky considers me, and for a second I think she might actually say no, might cave in on herself and give in to those old instincts, but she finally slides her hand into mine and allows me to tug her up from the chair.
Giz jumps down and stares up at us expectantly.
I glance down at him. “He’s coming, too.”
Her brow furrows. “Where are we going?”
There are so many things I’ve wanted to show her on the mountain, so many places I’ve wanted to share with her since she arrived, but with all the uncertainty building around us, I didn’t want to push her.
My greatest fear has been doing anything that might make Lucky run, but now I see that forcing her into a tiny box doesn’t help, either. It’s no better than what that fucker Brad did to her.
“You’ll see.”
The hesitation and uncertainty still lingers in her gaze as I lead her down the steps and to the front door with Giz hot on our heels.
I point to the hiking boots I bought her several weeks ago. “You’re going to need those.”
They’re an absolute necessity on the mountain.
She might have been able to get away with wearing her favorite Chucks while she was walking down paved roads and on city streets, but up here, they’re more for appearance than utility.
That doesn’t mean there isn’t a line of them in six different colors now waiting next to the boots, but they won’t be useful today.
Tossing me a narrowed look, Lucky does as she’s told, sliding them on and tying them as I go to the closet and grab two of my hiking packs. Her eyes follow me to the kitchen where I toss a few snacks and bottles of water into them before I meet her back at the door.
She shifts on her feet, eyeing the packs. “Should I be…worried?”
I shake my head. “No.”
If anyone should be worried, it should be me.
This could backfire big time, but I have to do something to try to distract her.
“Let’s go.”
The entire trip down the mountain, I can feel her eyes on me and sense how badly she wants to demand that I tell her where we’re headed. I can’t say I blame her for being a little wary after we’ve spent weeks trying to keep her locked away and hidden from pretty much anyone else.
It might have been in her best interests, to protect her, but despite Lucky essentially always being alone, the isolation hasn’t done her any good. Regret about that sits heavily on my chest, so does the uneasiness about where we’re heading—given her history.
When we reach the road at the bottom of the mountain, I turn left, heading toward town, but we don’t go far before the turnoff for the falls appears.
I slow to make the turn down the narrow, gravel road, my hands tightening on the wheel as I peek at her out of the corner of my eye.
Hers widen. “We’re going to the falls?”
“I’ve always wanted to bring you here, so you can see it in all its glory and how beautiful it is—when it’s not pitch-black outside, and you’re not stressed out and worrying.”
Like she was the night she slept out here—alone and on the run without an end in sight and with no one to have her back.
She gives me a reproachful look that requires no explanation.
A tiny laugh slips out, and I slide my hand over hers and squeeze it. “Okay, so you’re still stressed out and worrying, but you’re going to see it with completely different eyes now. That’s something.”
That night was filled with uncertainty, panic, fear, and darkness that she only kept at bay with a damn flashlight. Then she lost Gizmo and spent the next morning frantically looking for him and running around accusing people of stealing him.
My hope is that all those feelings can be placed squarely in the past.
If not today, then soon.
She offers me a soft smile that tells me she isn’t so sure, and we ride in silence until we make it to the small parking lot that’s really nothing more than packed dirt where people have parked for so long that no grass grows anymore.
On such a hot summer afternoon, the place should be packed with swimmers trying to cool off in the crystal-blue water of the swimming hole at the base of the falls, but the building clouds and threatening thunderstorm have kept everyone away today.
Which means we have the place completely to ourselves.
That might be a good thing given how jumpy Lucky is after her conversation with Sheriff Briggs earlier this week and the awful one this morning.
She needs the space and time to reorganize her thoughts, to see the world the way I do—starting here.
I park and help her climb out. Giz jumps after us and immediately races toward the water’s edge, sniffing around, ignoring us in favor of all the exciting smells nature has to offer.
Lucky remains tense as I grab the backpacks, hoisting the larger, heavier one onto my back and giving the other to her. She slips it on, and I take her hand as we pick our way over uneven ground down to the swimming hole.
The mountain cliff towers above us almost two hundred feet, so high that we have to crane our necks to see the top of it.
Water from the same river that meanders across McBride Mountain cascades down the sheer face, crashing into the pool below.
A few stray rays of late afternoon sunlight filter through the building clouds, causing a prism of rainbows to flash in the wet spray.
Lucky’s lips curl up into the first real smile I’ve seen in a long time. “Wow…”
I squeeze her hand. “I told you.”
She stares at it for several minutes, her eyes getting glossy with tears that—for once—aren’t sad. “It really is beautiful.”
“It is…”
But I’m not looking at the waterfall anymore.
Seeing Lucky here, in this place where we used to come so often growing up, that is so important to our lives and those of everyone in McBride Mountain, feels like another puzzle piece clicking into place.
These are the moments I’ve been trying to savor and concentrate on. The good ones. Rather than getting lost in the bad memories and the nightmares created by the unsettling truths I’ve learned about myself, I want to create new ones with her.
This woman who learned about the darkness that runs through my veins and wasn’t deterred…
This woman who has never flinched when it’s come to staring down my demons, even as she runs from her own…
This woman who has held my heart from the first moment we met has the ability to destroy me with a single look and unravel me with a simple touch.
And the way she looks at me when she glances over her shoulder makes me weak in the knees.
Her gaze that was so clouded by her internal storm only a few hours ago has cleared, replaced by a warm crystal blue that makes me want to dive into it and break free from the tempting waters.
All I want in this moment is to latch onto it and keep it alive—to keep her in this place where she can forget about the fact that there are still things beyond McBride Mountain that can hurt us.
I tug on her hand, urging her to follow me around the pool to the left, toward the thickest part of the forest. “I have something to show you.”
Her gaze narrows on the trees. “Where are we going?”
After warning her about what lives on the mountain, her slight agitation as we near the darkness created by the canopy isn’t completely unwarranted.
“You’ll see.”