9. Griff
CHAPTER 9
GRIFF
She didn’t slam the door. She didn’t have to. The silence that filled the cabin after she walked out was louder than any storm that had ever howled across these mountains.
And still, I sat on my ass and did nothing.
Not because I didn’t care, but because I cared too much.
The folder she found sat open on the counter where she’d left it. There were the sheriff’s reports, the notes I’d jotted down, printouts of email threads between Caleb and the county zoning board. It was full of evidence that something had been going on long before his body was found at the bottom of that cliff.
And I’d kept it from her. Not because I wanted to lie, but because I didn’t want her to carry the same weight I did.
I thought I could protect her by keeping the truth buried. That if I gave her peace, she’d be safe until I could figure everything out on my own. But all I’d done was prove I didn’t trust her.
That look on her face—fucking hell, I’d take a bullet to erase it.
I dropped my head into my hands and let out a slow, ragged breath. Scout lifted his head from where he laid on the dog bed and let out a low whine, like he knew something was wrong.
“I know, boy. I fucked up.”
He padded over and leaned against my leg, warm and solid and steady in the way only dogs know how to be. I scratched behind his ears and stared at the flames flickering low in the woodstove. They’d need another log soon.
So would Juniper.
A gust of wind rattled the windowpane, and something deep inside me clicked.
She wasn’t coming back. She’d left with nothing but that damn flannel shirt and the fire in her eyes. No coat. No flashlight. No umbrella. And with the sky growing darker by the minute, she was walking straight into trouble.
“Shit.” I shot to my feet, my heart pounding like my hammer on steel, hard and fast. How long had she been gone? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?
Whatever it was, it had been too damn long.
I yanked on my coat, grabbed my rifle and pack, and slung my flashlight across my chest. Scout paced near the door, tail stiff, sensing my urgent need to get to her.
“You’re staying here,” I told him, even though I hated the idea. “Keep an eye on the place. I’ll be back with both of them.” He tilted his head, like he doubted my ability to pull it off. “I promise.”
Determined to come through, I yanked the door open and stepped into the storm. The air slapped me in the face, wet and biting cold. Sleet mixed with snow, the wind howling like something alive. This was the kind of weather that turned quick and mean. The kind that had taken more than one hiker off the mountain and left only bones behind.
Branches whipped in the wind. The trail was already filling with slush and mud. I kept my head down and boots steady, my breath fogging the air in heavy bursts.
She’s not built for this, the voice in my head whispered.
She doesn’t know the terrain.
She’s alone.
But she was smart. She would have headed straight to the lodge. It was too dangerous for her to have gone farther than that. Please, let her be at the lodge.
My muscles burned as I pushed through the trees, every step more urgent than the last. Even the wildlife had gone silent, hunkering down for the weather. The mountain was holding its breath, trying to ride out the storm. So was I.
Finally, the edge of the clearing came into view. The lodge sat in its usual place, dark against the gray sky, smoke curling from the chimney. The SUV parked at the edge of the trees. The curtains were drawn, but a light glowed from inside.
I stumbled toward the porch, my lungs burning. She was here. I pounded on the door. “Juniper!”
Nothing. I knocked again, louder.
“Juniper, open up! It’s me!”
Still nothing.
A chill that had nothing to do with the weather spread through my chest. I gripped the knob and shoved. It was locked. I circled the cabin, scanning for any signs of a break-in, any fresh tracks, for anything that looked off. But there was nothing.
Only the faint glow of the woodstove through the window and the dim flicker of a single lantern near the couch.
She’d made it back. She was safe.
But the way my heart beat against my ribs said that something still wasn’t right. Maybe she was just hiding. Dammit, hiding from me.
And I couldn’t blame her.
I pressed my hand to the cold wooden door, closed my eyes, and exhaled. “Please let me in, baby,” I said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything. I just didn’t know how.”
Inside, somewhere behind the silence, I thought I heard the sound of footsteps. The door creaked open, just enough for her face to appear in the gap. Rain clung to my coat, dripped from my hood, soaked through my boots. But I didn’t feel any of it.
Juniper stood in the glow of the lantern light, wrapped in one of Caleb’s old flannels, her bare feet peeking out beneath the hem. Her eyes were red but dry. Her chin lifted, and defiance glimmered in her beautiful eyes. She was braced for battle.
"You shouldn't have come."
I swallowed, my heart thudding. "You walked out into a storm without a coat. What the hell was I supposed to do?"
"Maybe let me have five minutes to process the fact that you’ve been lying to me since the day we met?”
I flinched. She wasn’t wrong.
“I didn’t lie,” I said. “I just didn’t tell you.”
She let out a breath—half laugh, half scoff—and opened the door a little wider. I stepped inside, the rain pattering behind me, the warmth of the lodge seeping into my chilled bones.
Appie was curled in a tight ball near the hearth, his eyes following me like I was the intruder. Maybe I was.
Juniper crossed her arms. "You had a folder full of reports about my uncle. You knew he was worried. You knew he was being harassed.”
“I didn’t think it would go that far.”
“You didn’t think?” Her voice rose, shaking with hurt. “You found his body, Griff. And then what? Just decided I didn’t need to know that someone might’ve wanted him dead? Maybe the same person who’s trying to scare me off the mountain?”
“I was going to handle it. I didn’t want to scare you.”
“I’m not made of glass. It’s not like I’m going to break.” She put a hand on her hip, her voice low.
“You think I don’t know that?” I ran a hand through my wet hair. “You walked into these woods like you belonged here and haven’t backed down. You’re tougher than half the men I served with. But that doesn’t mean I want you walking headfirst into danger without knowing what we’re up against.”
Her eyes softened, just a little. “So why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because if I did, you’d run. At first, I didn’t care… fucking wanted that to happen. But now”—I shook my head, not wanting to consider I might be the one who’d actually run her off— “I didn’t want to watch you go.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she crossed the floor, her bare feet whispering across the planks. She stopped in front of me and reached up, tugging back the edge of my hood. Rain dripped from my hair onto her hand, but she didn’t move.
“Do you think I came here just to inherit a property?” Her voice was quiet and raw. “I didn’t even know the full story. I came here because I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t broken. That I wasn’t stupid for believing I deserved more than tying my future to someone who didn’t deserve me. And now…”
She hesitated, her fingers brushing my jaw. My heart ached while I waited for what she’d say next. If she’d try to shut down what had started between us.
“Now I’m not sure I can walk away. Even after everything.”
Her words hit like a sledgehammer. Not because she forgave me. But because she still wanted me, even if she didn’t understand why.
“I don’t deserve you, Juniper.” My voice cracked. “But I swear to you, I’ll earn every inch of your trust back.”
“I didn’t come back here just to be mad. I came back because I don’t want to run again. I want to fight for this property. He wanted me to have it, and I want to stay here… with you.”
My chest ached. Not from guilt this time, but something deeper—something tighter. She was standing in front of me, vulnerable, braver than I’d ever been with anyone, and I’d almost let her slip away because I couldn’t face the truth either.
“I told myself I was watching out for you because of Caleb,” I said. “Because it’s what he would’ve wanted.”
Juniper lifted her gaze to mine, steady and unreadable.
“But the truth is,” I continued, voice low, “I care about you. More than I should. More than I know how to deal with. And that scared the hell out of me.”
Her shoulders dropped slightly, the tension easing.
“I’ve tried to keep everyone at arm’s length since I got here. Hell, since the day I got out of the service . ” I looked away, then back again, forcing myself not to hide. “But you… you walked in with that camera and that ridiculous cat and started tearing down all my walls without even meaning to.”
Juniper’s breath caught.
“I don’t know what this is, baby. But I know I’m not ready to let go of it.”
She reached out and took my hand. Her fingers slid between mine, small and soft, grounding me in a way nothing else ever had.
“Neither am I,” she whispered.
We stood there, wrapped in the quiet hum of the storm outside, until I pulled her close. I held her for a long beat with her cheek pressed to my chest and my chin tucked over her head. I didn’t have to say anything else for now. She could feel what I meant in the way I held her. In the way I didn’t let go.
When she finally stepped back, she brushed her fingers over the front of my coat, smoothing it down like she didn’t want to lose contact.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now,” I said, my voice like steel, “I find out who’s behind all of this. I find whoever threatened Caleb. Whoever tried to scare you off. And I make damn sure they never come near you again.”
“You think it’s Deever?” she asked, glancing toward the door.
“I thought so,” I said. “But something doesn’t add up.”
She turned back to me, her eyes narrowing.
“Deever talks big, but he’s all bark. He doesn’t have the guts or the brains for this kind of shit. The rabbit, the boot prints… someone’s watching you, and I don’t like how they’re going about it.”
A chill slid down my spine that had nothing to do with the storm still raging outside.
“I don’t think Deever’s calling the shots,” I added. “I think he’s just the mouthpiece for someone with deeper pockets. Someone who’s got a hell of a lot more to lose.”
Juniper’s eyes widened. “Like who?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said, my voice low and lethal. “But I’m going to find out.” And when I did, they’d regret ever setting foot on this mountain and targeting my girl.