Chapter 17
Jada
The note sat on the table like a physical wound, bleeding out all the warmth that had been here just hours ago.
I can’t stay. I’m sorry.
I traced the jagged edge where he’d torn the paper, my fingers brushing over the ink, as if I could smudge the words away, make them mean something else. Something temporary. But they weren’t.
Hunter was gone.
The cabin felt empty without him. Like something vital had been ripped out, leaving behind an aching, hollow space. The fire in the hearth had burned low, nothing but embers now. The kittens—Sir Pounce, Biscuits, and Moose—were curled together in a sleepy pile near the couch, completely unaware that the one person who made me feel safe had snuck out while I was sleeping.
Maybe he’d left because he felt like last night’s sex had been a mistake, even though it hadn’t felt like one at the time. Not when his hands were on me, his mouth against my skin, not when he whispered my name like it was something precious.
God.
I dropped my head into my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. He’d been right there beside me in bed, warm and solid, and now he was just…gone.
Or maybe it wasn’t about the sex at all. Maybe it was about what happened afterward. Maybe he was embarrassed about telling me about that mission in Afghanistan. He’d opened up to me, shared pieces of himself I wasn’t sure he let anyone else see. Had it felt like too much? Like he’d given me something he couldn’t take back?
Or, and I couldn’t help but think this was probably the case…maybe he’d thought it through and realized that I wasn’t worth the trouble.
My stomach twisted at the thought, but I couldn’t blame him if that was it. My life was a wreck. I had no past. No real future. I’d run, too, if I had a choice.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts, I jolted upright when the door creaked open. Who would be coming in here?
But then I saw Hunter, standing in the doorway, shoulders tense, green eyes shadowed. As if my musing had summoned him back.
I gripped the edge of the table, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. “I thought you were gone.” My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away. “Thought you might be relieved.”
I frowned. “Relieved?”
He didn’t answer right away, just nodded toward my arms. My gaze followed, landing on the faint bruises marring my skin.
“I didn’t even notice them,” I admitted, voice quieter now.
Hunter’s jaw flexed, his hands curling into fists. “I did.”
The words were raw, edged with something sharp. Anger. Not at me, but at himself.
“They don’t hurt,” I said. “And even if they did, you didn’t mean it. You were caught in something you couldn’t control.”
“That’s the problem,” he gritted out. “I hate that I hurt you at all.”
He hadn’t left because of me. He’d left because he thought he’d hurt me. I exhaled then reached for him. My fingers brushed over his bicep, where the knife cut from Copper’s man was bandaged. A reminder of the night he’d put himself between me and danger—again.
“You’ve taken a hell of a lot worse for me,” I said softly.
Hunter’s eyes flicked to mine, something vulnerable in their depths. He was silent for a beat, then exhaled roughly. “I didn’t want to leave.” His voice was hoarse, like he wasn’t used to saying things like that. “But I thought maybe you’d be relieved. I was too much of a coward to ask—afraid you’d let me stay even if you really didn’t want to.”
I blinked, thrown by the admission. “That never even crossed my mind.”
His brows pulled together, like maybe he didn’t believe me.
I swallowed hard. “Honestly… I thought you left because you didn’t want to get so involved with me. You didn’t sign up for any of this, Hunter. I know that. You just got thrown into it. And now we’re basically living together. We had sex. Hell, we’ve adopted three kittens.”
I was so wound up, I couldn’t stop. “I haven’t done anything to make forward progress, just been staying in this cabin, hiding out, avoiding my problems. Yeah, maybe I help over at Pawsitive a little, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that for a week now I’ve buried my head in the sand. Haven’t tried to find out anything more about myself. I couldn’t blame you if you decided you were better off on your own.”
Hunter stared at me, his gaze unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders had eased—just a little. Then, out of nowhere, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“You know what we need to do?”
The list was almost endless. “Figure out if I have a bank account. Figure out a way for me to support myself. Since I can’t remember anything, I imagine that’s going to be challenging. I can’t live in this cabin forever. And about a hundred other things. What were you going to say?”
“We need to go on a date.”
I blinked. “A what?”
“A date,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re doing everything way out of order, but we need to go on our first date.”
I searched his face, waiting for the punch line, but there wasn’t one. “But what about all the other stuff?”
“It’ll still be here afterward.” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let’s go on a picnic. You, me…and the kittens.”
A laugh escaped me, breathless and unexpected. “A picnic? With the kittens? It’s winter.”
“Yeah, but it’s mild out now. Sunny. We’ll bring a blanket. And yeah, the kittens deserve a day out too.”
His smile was faint but real, and damn it, something inside me loosened at the sight of it.
I didn’t know where the hell this was coming from. A few minutes ago, we’d been standing in the wreckage of almost losing each other. Now he wanted to pack a damn basket and take me on a date?
But I wasn’t about to argue. For once, it wasn’t complicated. For once, it was just… good .
I met his eyes, my lips curving. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
It didn’t take us long to get everything—including the kittens—packed up.
Hunter drove with one hand on the wheel, his other arm resting against the window as the town of Garnet Bend came into view. Nestled against the Rockies, it looked like something out of a postcard—quaint storefronts, hanging flower baskets swaying from lampposts, a few locals strolling down the sidewalk with their dogs or stopping to chat.
I’d only been here a handful of times, but I liked it. More than I wanted to admit.
I glanced down at the picnic basket in my lap, where three tiny heads peeked out. Sir Pounce, Biscuits, and Moose were wide-eyed and curious, twitching their noses at the air as if they knew an adventure was coming.
Hunter smirked. “Think they know they’re about to be spoiled?”
I reached in, scratching under Moose’s chin. “They’re kittens. They assume everything revolves around them.”
He pulled into the small grocery store parking lot, and we climbed out, closed picnic basket in hand. Inside, the store smelled of fresh bread and roasted chicken. Hunter led the way to the deli, grabbing a container of fried chicken while I browsed the cold drinks. By the time I turned back, he’d already tossed a few more items into our cart—bottled water, fruit, a bar of dark chocolate, wine.
“You do know it’s just lunch, right?” I teased.
He shrugged. “Never hurts to be prepared.”
Of course. Hunter was always ready for anything. He probably carried an entire survival kit in the truck, just in case.
We checked out and made our way down the street to Deja Brew, the little coffee shop I remembered from my first trip into town. The scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted through the air as we stepped inside.
Lena, the owner, stood behind the counter, wiping her hands on a towel. She was in her thirties, with the coolest streaks of purple in her hair. “Hunter. Jada.” Her tone was polite, but there was a distance to it.
That was how all the women in town and Resting Warrior were with me—not rude, not cold, but not welcoming either. I wasn’t an outsider exactly, but I wasn’t one of them. And maybe that was on me, too. I hadn’t exactly put in the effort to change that.
Lena pointed to the display case. “Cinnamon rolls just came out of the oven. And I have a batch of blueberry scones that won’t last long.”
Hunter looked at me. “Your call.”
I considered it for all of two seconds. “Both.”
Hunter grinned and Lena nodded, already grabbing a bag. A few minutes later, we were back in the truck, kittens settled in the basket, grocery bags in the floorboard, and the bag of pastries between us. He drove us out of town, obviously already having a place in mind.
He was right about the mild day. There were some clouds, but it wasn’t cold—my hoodie was enough, I didn’t even need my coat. He parked us on the side of the road, near an unmarked path I would’ve never found on my own. He transferred the items from town into the cooler he’d found in the cabin, while I reached into the truck cab and grabbed the basket with the kittens. Then we were out of the truck and walking.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as we made our way up the narrow dirt path, sunlight filtering through the trees in golden streaks. The weight of the picnic basket was light in my hands, the kittens shifting and peeking out with curious eyes, their tiny ears twitching at every new sound.
Hunter carried the cooler like it weighed nothing, his movements steady, unhurried. “It’s not much farther,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected—a small creek, maybe. Some rocks and a shallow pool. But when we stepped through the final break in the trees, my breath caught.
“Wow.”
The waterfall wasn’t massive, but it was stunning. A ribbon of white water tumbled over a moss-covered cliff, cascading into a clear, shimmering pool below. The sun hit the spray at just the right angle, creating a faint rainbow above the surface. Near the top, it was frozen, but at the bottom, it poured into a gentle stream.
“This is one of my favorite places when I visit Lucas.”
I tore my gaze away to look at him. “I can see why.”
He set down the cooler, and we spread out the blanket on the cold grass, the sound of water filling the comfortable silence. The kittens wasted no time exploring, their tiny paws sinking into the fabric as they sniffed the air.
Sir Pounce attempted an escape, but I scooped him back up before he got too bold. “Not today, troublemaker.”
Hunter grinned, opening the bottle of wine, then filled a plastic cup and handed it to me. “He’s just trying to impress you.”
I took a sip. “It’s working.”
We passed food between us—fried chicken, fruit, the pastries we’d grabbed from Deja Brew. The kittens got their own pile of kibble, batting at it like it might fight back.
After a few bites, I leaned back on my hands, glancing at Hunter. “You know…this is technically my first date. Or at least, the first one I remember.” I gestured at the spread in front of us. “So far, it’s a solid ten out of ten. Good food. Good wine. Good company. And kittens—always a win.”
It didn’t take long for us to finish our food. The kittens settled, lazily sprawled across the blanket, their bellies full. Sir Pounce snored softly, his tiny body curled against the corner of the picnic basket. Biscuts and Moose were huddled together behind him. Clouds were moving in, and it was getting a little colder. Hunter seemed fine, but I wrapped the second blanket around myself.
I should’ve felt peaceful. Should’ve let myself sink into this moment—this rare, unexpected piece of something good. My ten out of ten date. But I couldn’t make my mind stop. Maybe it was everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours—getting our three little wards, the lovemaking, the PTSD night terror, thinking Hunter was gone…
I stared at the waterfall, watching the way it trickled into the rocks at the bottom, endlessly moving, endlessly changing.
“I have to start figuring out my life.” The words slipped out, quieter than I meant them to. “I can’t stay in that cabin forever.”
Hunter didn’t respond right away. He finished his sip of wine, setting the plastic cup aside. “You don’t have to rush. I know for a fact Lucas is okay with you staying at the cabin as long as you need.” His voice was calm, steady. “You’re still Jada Banks, memory or not. We’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
“You don’t have to do it alone.” He leaned back on one arm, watching me with that unwavering intensity of his. “I can get Jace Monroe, my computer buddy from Citadel Solutions, to look into your finances—see what kind of options you have.”
The thought should’ve been reassuring. Instead, it made my stomach twist. My past—everything I’d done, everything I’d been—it all felt like a ticking time bomb. One wrong move and I’d find out something worse than I already had.
But I also couldn’t keep living in limbo. And what could possibly be worse than knowing I’d been a kidnapper? I let out a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”
Hunter studied me like he was trying to figure out how far to push. “Nothing has to be done today. Or tomorrow. You have time.”
I exhaled slowly, pushing my hair away from my face as more clouds came up. “I know I should be panicked about my future. And I am, kind of. But…I’m not entirely sad that there’s no antidote for the memory drug.”
Hunter didn’t react right away. He stayed quiet, his gaze on me, listening.
I looked down at the sleeping kittens, Biscuits curled against my leg. “Maybe it’s better this way. If I don’t know, I don’t have to face the person I used to be.”
Hunter’s voice was even when he spoke. “You’re afraid of what you’ll find?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head. “I mean, I already know I did bad things. And I tell myself I’m different now, that I wouldn’t make the same choices if they were presented to me right now, but… What if I would? What if I’m just wired that way? To be selfish and uncaring of other people. To be willing to get what I want, no matter the cost.”
“I’ve asked myself the same thing,” he admitted.
I blinked, turning to him. “You have?” I shouldn’t be surprised. He was right to be worried about the person I was on the inside.
“Not about you. About me .” His jaw was tight, his fingers toying with the label on his water bottle, peeling it back piece by piece. “I’ve killed people, Jada. As a soldier. And after.”
I absorbed that. Not just the words, but the weight in them. I’d known from the first second I saw him crashing into that cabin that Hunter was dangerous. He carried himself like a man who knew exactly how to end a life if he needed to. But knowing and hearing him say it were two different things.
I met his gaze. “But you fight on the side of justice.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Doesn’t always feel that way.”
The confession made something ache in my chest. Without thinking, I reached out and squeezed his hand. His skin was warm, callused, his fingers strong but still.
“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I think you’re a good man.”
“And I think you’re a good woman.”
His eyes darkened, something unreadable shifting behind them. He didn’t pull away. We sat there like that, the moment stretching between us, under the gathering clouds. We would need to leave soon. A storm was coming in.
Finally, he exhaled. “We’ll still search for an antidote. If we find one…you get to choose whether you take it.”
I looked back at the waterfall. “Maybe sometimes a blank slate is the best way to start over.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes it is.”
I hesitated, then admitted something I hadn’t even told myself out loud yet. “I’m still thinking about turning myself in to the cops.”
Hunter stilled.
The words felt sharp in my throat, but I kept going. “I don’t know everything I did, but I know it was bad. And maybe I should?—”
“You’re not a criminal,” he interrupted, his tone firm.
I let out a short laugh. “That’s debatable.”
His jaw tightened. “I talked to Lachlan Callaway this morning, one of the Garnet Bend deputies. He isn’t looking for you. There’s no warrant.”
I stared at him. “You asked him?”
He nodded. “Yes. I know Jace told us there was no warrant before, but I thought maybe that had just been a glitch in the system working in our favor. But evidently, Kenzie is firm about not pressing charges.”
I should feel thankful, and I did in a way, but also, I was torn.
“Speaking of Kenzie. I just want to—” Before he could say more, a low rumble filled the air.
I glanced up. The sky, which had been getting cloudier and cloudier, had darkened, thick gray clouds rolling in fast over the mountains. The air shifted, the breeze turning cool, heavy with the scent of rain.
Hunter’s gaze flicked to the sky, and just like that, he was back in motion. “Shit. That storm is coming in fast. We need to go.”
Lightning streaked in the distance, followed by another deep growl of thunder. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing the empty plates, the wine bottle, stuffing everything into the cooler while Hunter tucked the kittens back in the basket, blanket and all.
We were barely halfway to his truck when the first fat drops of rain hit, cool against my skin. Then the sky opened up.
We ran.
Laughing, soaked within seconds, my hair sticking to my face as we dodged puddles, feet slipping slightly in the mud. Hunter was just ahead of me, his grip firm on the cooler, moving like a man who had too much practice running through the rain.
By the time we reached the truck, we were drenched. I yanked the door open and climbed inside, cradling the basket of kittens against my chest, making sure they were safe.
Hunter slid into the driver’s seat, shaking his head, rain dripping from his hair. For the first time in a long time, he looked completely at ease, despite the fact that we were freezing and three tiny kittens were mewling in protest at being jostled around.
Something warm curled in my chest. Yeah, my life was a mess. My past was a disaster waiting to be uncovered.
But right now, in this moment?
I was exactly where I wanted to be.