Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Tyler
I should have known Mira would cause trouble.
Goddamn. I stop pedaling my Diamondback and glance down the wooded mountainside to the obsidian lake reflecting the moonlight. What the hell am I doing out here?
I was at my sister’s place, where I’ve been crashing all summer, when I heard Mira had gone missing today. I didn’t realize it until I arrived in town, but my sister’s best friend Gen is dating Lewis, Mira’s best friend. Supposedly, Mira has been causing trouble for Lewis and Gen.
Mira is heartless. This is probably some ploy to get Lewis’s attention. Nothing has changed. I’m an idiot for biking out here, in the fucking black of night, to a secluded cabin, searching for the girl I said I’d never go near again.
I shouldn’t even know about this place, but as fate is a brutal bitch that enjoys batting me around, I happened to run into the one person in town I had every intention of avoiding.
During a bike ride from hell, in which I attempted to exorcise my Colorado demons through physical torture, I managed to get into off-road terrain I probably would have thought twice about had I been in my right mind.
I found a cabin, with Mira, of all people, sitting on the front stoop.
It was like a black omen.
I have no idea what Mira was doing out here in the middle of nowhere.
It’s none of my business, but I decided to eliminate this location from the possibilities while the others search town.
It would have been a challenge to direct anyone to this spot, and on the off chance she really is in trouble, someone should check it out.
I’ve run into Mira twice now since I returned home.
The first time at this cabin a couple of weeks ago, the second time a few days later at a party I went to with my sister and her friends.
Let’s just say, I didn’t stay long at that party.
Before those two incidents, the last time I saw Mira was my final week of high school.
Mira never went to prom with Chad. In fact, I never noticed her with him again after that encounter in the hallway, and I never discovered who she was or wasn’t sleeping with.
I didn’t want to know. I’d forgotten all of it, including how terrible I’d felt for weeks afterward.
Until the day I ran into Mira in this forest. Then it all came rushing back.
I push off a boulder and grind the pedals, shifting to a lower gear over the thick, barely rideable underbrush. I’m roughly where I spotted Mira out here, give or take.
After a few minutes, I catch the silhouette of the cabin in the distance. I get off my bike and cross on foot.
Approaching the cabin, I cup my hand to the glass and peer inside a faintly illuminated window.
Twin cots rest beside an empty fireplace.
The place is nearly barren, but not uninhabited.
A woman sits at a spindly table. She’s the same woman who craned her head out the front door as I passed by on my bike a couple of weeks ago, while Mira swallowed her surprise from the porch, her gaze wide and clinging to me.
A man sits at the table along with the woman. They’re huddled beneath blankets, playing cards by the light of a camping lantern. Beer cans litter the floor. And Mira is nowhere in sight.
She isn’t here. I’ve done what I could for my sister and her friends. It was a waste of time, but hey, I’d rather someone else find Mira anyway.
Just to be certain I haven’t missed anything, I walk around the cabin and glance inside another set of windows.
Nothing. And the place is too small to miss her. Mira is definitely not here, but where could she be? She rarely strays from Lewis’s side. Though from what Cali has said, all that’s changed now that Lewis is dating Gen.
Well, I’m not going to worry about it.
Not my problem.
I make it back to my bike and climb on, taking in the cold and dark around me.
It’s the end of summer, and the night air has a nip to it.
I press the side of my watch, lighting up the face to check the built-in compass.
The return trip to my truck would go faster since it’s downhill, but the dark makes speed impossible without risking impalement on a low branch.
I ride blind, relying on my watch compass to get me southeast to the start of the road.
Partway down the hill, I stop to confirm my coordinates and make sure I’m headed in the right direction. A whimper sounds nearby.
My pulse kicks up, an eerie sensation feathering the back of my neck. Gotta be an injured animal. I hold my breath and listen for more.
The noise comes again. Only this time, it sounds like a moan…the kind of noise a woman might make if she were in pain.
My gut knots, images of Mira flashing through my mind.
Can’t be her. It’s an animal. I should keep a safe distance. But just in case…
I prop my bike against a tree and rush in the direction of the noise, my heart pounding. Up ahead, a patch of light-colored fabric moves, revealing a face that catches my breath.
I run over, kneeling beside her, my hands shaking as I touch her neck, her wrist. “Mira?”
Where the fuck is her pulse?
Her eyes flutter open, beautiful golden-brown irises shining, even in this dull light. Normally her eyes are nearly the same color as her tanned skin—only now her skin appears pale.
I scan her body: a gash on the side of her head, mottled skin along her cheekbone, torn fabric in her sleeves and jeans.
She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and swallows. “Tyler?” Her voice sounds bewildered and scratchy.
“It’s me,” I say, my tone gruff, a burning in my chest. For some reason, seeing Mira like this leaves me raw. “What happened?”
Her eyes flicker closed. She bites her bottom lip.
Mira’s no wilting flower. She rarely shows emotion, and to see what I suspect is pain and fear on her face? It’s too much.
I gently reach under her to help her up—carry her if I have to. “Come on. Let’s get you to the cabin. It’s not far.”
She shakes her head and winces. Her hand flutters to the side of her scalp. The section that’s matted and wet.
“Can’t go to my mom’s. Someplace else. Could you—could you help me to my car?”
A small, battered truck was the only other vehicle parked on the road I entered from. Either way—“You could have a concussion. You’re not driving anywhere. We need to get you to the cabin. It’s the closest place, unless…”
My shoulders tense. I look in the direction I came from. “Was it them, the woman and that man at the cabin? Did they do this to you?”
“No. It wasn’t them.”
But her omission implies it was someone. She didn’t just fall. “Then let’s go there. The nearest road is a mile and a half away.”
“My mom—she won’t…Forget it.” Mira shifts from me and rolls to her knees. “I’ll walk back.” She stands upright, swaying like a boat on the ocean.
I grab her elbow. “Mira, you can barely stand.”
I could ignore her protests and take her to the cabin, but she needs medical attention, and I doubt that cabin has anything in the way of an emergency kit.
Fine, we’ll do things Mira’s way. For now.
I place my arms beneath her back and knees and pick her up. Her eyes widen, her gaze running up my neck toward my mouth, where it lingers for an instant.
Which is long enough to scatter my senses.
Jesus, how can this girl still affect me? I’m over her. Was over her years ago.
She focuses on my eyes. “Now what?”
I haven’t moved. I’m holding Mira in my arms, convincing myself that what I once felt for her is gone.
I really should have chosen a different town to hunker down in for a few months. This place brings back too many unwanted memories.
I step forward, feigning confidence I don’t have. “We get on my bike and ride to my car.”
Her eyes search for my Diamondback, propped against the tree. “Both of us?”
I glare down to snap a retort about our options, because I’m in a piss-poor mood, but I lock on her beautiful face and lose focus. She’s injured, and I’m mad for reasons I can’t explain and worried about her at the same time, when I should feel nothing but eager to get her back to her friends.
I give my head a mental shake. “Why don’t you stop talking, conserve your energy?”
Her mouth pinches as if she sees through to the insult. “Set me down, Tyler. I don’t want you holding me.” Her pale cheeks, which are normally a golden brown, darken even in this light.
“Nope.” I hike her higher.
My demeanor is cool, as though I have everything under control, but I’m concerned about how this will work. Riding two-man goes more smoothly when one of the individuals isn’t incapacitated.
I reach for the bike while balancing her in my arms. “Can you hold on to the back of my neck?”
She peers at me skeptically.
“Mira, I’m trying to help you. Throw me a bone so I can dump your ass—I mean—deposit you with Lewis.”
She rolls her eyes, but her arms go up past my shoulders, gripping me surprisingly tightly given her condition. She rests her head below my chin and her mouth brushes the skin of my neck in what feels like a light nuzzle…
I nearly lose my grip on the bike.
“Mouth off.” I’m not sure if the lip graze was intentional or not, but I don’t goddamn care. I can’t do this if she puts her lips on me. My head is messed up enough without Mira screwing with it.
A heavy sigh warms the flesh her lips taunt. She lifts her head and tilts it back, her caramel eyes melting my rage a degree. “You can stop hating me, Tyler.”
I don’t answer. I have nothing to say.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “And you—”
“If this is about things that happened back in high school, I barely remember it. Spare me your apology and remain still so I can get us out of here.”
She huffs out an annoyed sigh.
Still sassy. Nothing’s changed. That’s the problem. Too many things are the same.
I shift her in my arms and sit on my bike, supporting her weight with one arm and holding on to the handlebar with the other.
Progress is slow, but we make it to my Land Cruiser without me dropping her or crashing into a tree. Mira is slender, but my arms burn after navigating the bike through a mile and a half of bumpy terrain.
I ease her off my lap and steady her on her feet. She wobbles, and I’m concerned about the head wound. I help her to the car and open the passenger door.
The interior light reveals a red and purple smudge on her cheek—featuring a distinct handprint.
I grip the doorframe, a rush of heat rising from my chest, flaming my face. Mira definitely didn’t fall in the woods. And for some reason, the thought of someone hurting her makes me extremely angry. “You wanna tell me about it?” I gesture to her face and the cut on her head.
She scoots onto the cracked seat cushions I’ve never paid attention to until now. The jagged edges of the upholstery scrape the exposed flesh where her jacket is torn. She tilts her head against the headrest, her gaze flickering to me, then out the window. She doesn’t say anything.
I was a dick earlier. Of course she’s not going to tell me what happened. I lean in and click the belt across her lap. I shut the passenger door and round the front of the Cruiser. I shoot a text to Lewis that I’ve found her, then climb in the driver’s side.
“Sorry about back there,” I say, squeezing the steering wheel. “And what I said. It was a long time ago. I’m just—I’m in a bad mood. Don’t mind me.” I insert the key and start the engine. “I’ll get you someplace safe. You can tell Lewis what happened. He’s really worried.”
“But not you,” she says to the window in a voice I can’t read. Her stoic expression gives nothing away. No more high emotion from Mira. That moment has passed.
I stare at the side of her smooth cheekbone, the curve of her full lips. Mira is both classically beautiful and exotic-looking. Add long, dark-brown hair, beautiful eyes, and creamy skin, and the girl makes an entrance. But that’s not what drew me years ago.
Well, okay, of course it did. But if that were all, I’d have been fine to love her and leave her. No matter what I tell myself, it hurt to discover I meant nothing to her. Because at the time, she meant everything to me.
Mira is wrong. I am worried. I’ll always worry about her, no matter how many years pass.
It’s my curse.