Chapter 1
Chapter One
Coastal forest outside Raven’s Cliff, Oregon,
Present day…
He was crazy.
Certifiably insane.
Because Buck Landry knew, if Tierney O’Rourke asked him to walk into hell next to her carrying only a shovel and a smile, he’d willingly guard her six.
Which explained his current situation, anchored on the side of the towering basalt column, following Tierney as she traversed the next section of the climb, chalk bag looped around her waist, the rope trailing between her legs.
The late afternoon sun painted the top of the cliff with hints of red and gold, the stiff ocean breeze carrying the strong scent of salt and surf across the face.
Three hundred feet below them, the Pacific Ocean thundered against the rocky shoreline, misting water fifty feet into the air before it showered down over the reef, the massive breakers rolling out before surging forward, again.
Gulls cried overhead, the faint echo of a ship’s horn merging with the crashing waves.
He steadied his stance, ran through his usual sweep of the cliff — their anchor, her footing, the tension on the rope. How the gusting wind could affect her route. If her next handhold was more illusion than substance.
Satisfied she wasn’t in imminent danger, he moved to the entry and exit lines along the crag. Charting anything that suggested they weren’t alone. Looking at any minute detail that could escalate into a serious issue. While the chances were low, he knew better than to get complacent.
The threat level could change in a heartbeat.
He sucked in a deep breath as he studied the rock above Tierney when she paused to dip one hand into the chalk, looking as if she could hang on the side of the mountain all day without breaking a sweat.
The woman never ceased to amaze him. Whether hiking a treacherous route or confronting rogue agents armed with only a knife and her quick wit, she always seemed at ease. Completely in control.
That switched whenever she moved inside.
Shifted to a mix of extreme paranoia and hyper-vigilance.
Confined spaces triggered her the most, along with large crowds — hell, anyone other than him, it seemed.
She’d gotten better over the past few months from hanging with him and his teammates from Raven’s Security.
Not that she truly trusted anyone else, but she’d been gradually coming out of her shell — helping them out without holding anyone at gunpoint, first.
He smiled. His teammate and boss, Bodie Page, had been the reason Buck hadn’t faded into the shadows.
Given him a reason to work through the trauma that had held his brain hostage for years — to find a way to make sense of his new normal.
While Buck didn’t consider himself anywhere close to normal, he’d made peace with most of his ghosts.
Found a way to matter, again. Which was exactly what Tierney needed.
She’d made significant strides, but it didn’t take a psychic to see that she hadn’t dealt with whatever had happened inside that camp.
That a part of her had never come back.
He shook away the thoughts, running through his checks again as he fed her more rope. “That section above your right hand’s undercut. I wouldn’t trust it to hold your weight.”
Tierney glanced down at him, her mass of chestnut hair pulled into a high ponytail, her form-fitting tights and hoodie accentuating every curve.
She wasn’t short, more average at five-five, but he easily had several inches and eighty pounds on her.
“Are you saying that because you think it’s actually sketchy, or are you still pissed that I won the last cookie at lunch? ”
He grinned. “I think you mean, you cheated.”
“It was rock, paper, scissors.”
“I know. But then you smiled at me, and I got distracted.”
She laughed, the lilting sound sending shivers down his spine. It had taken him months to get her to smile. Nearly a year before she’d trusted him enough to fully engage.
She moved her hand to another rocky outcrop, avoiding the one he’d flagged. “I can’t help it if you’re an easy mark, Landry.”
She continued, making the rough section look simple before reaching a small shelf.
It took some unique balancing maneuvers to brace her weight while anchoring one of her wedges in a narrow crack, but in just over a minute, she had the rope clipped in, the line secured enough that he followed her up.
He moved in beside her, their shoulders bumping as he settled on the ledge.
The casual contact hitched his breath before he finally inhaled, drinking in the sweet scent of floral shampoo and something delicate he attributed to being uniquely her.
He performed another sweep, studying the anchor and surrounding area before focusing on her face.
She arched a brow, and his damn heart skipped.
Her flushed skin, the hint of a smile. How her blue eyes gleamed in the setting sun — the woman was stunning.
She motioned to the wedged nut she’d secured in the crevice. “Did you seriously just doublecheck how I placed the anchor?”
He leaned closer, drawn to the way she pressed her lips together. “Isn’t that why you brought me along?”
“I brought you along to have my six.”
“Which includes ensuring the pro’s been secured properly.” He nudged her. “No one would hire me or Raven’s Security if I let you fall.”
“I might occasionally misread the best route, but I never fall.”
“At least, not off the side of the mountain.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Are you implying I might fall in other ways?”
“God, I hope so.”
The words slipped out before he could crush them, bury them the way he’d buried his feelings for her. Locked away until she gave him some kind of indication she might want more.
Tierney stared at him, the flush deepening before she tilted her head, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to call his bluff or just cut his line. “Careful, Buck. You might get more than you bargained for.”
“If that’s supposed to scare me, you’ll have to try harder.” He tapped his head. “That car bomb left me with a pretty high bar when it comes to surprises.”
She eased back, dusted on more chalk. “I’ll keep that in mind. Ready?”
She struck off, moving faster than before as she crossed over to a better line, then started up.
Buck adjusted his hold, still feeding her more rope as he cursed under his breath, watching as she practically sprinted up the cliff.
He just wasn’t sure if he’d pissed her off or if her renewed motivation stemmed from the sexual tension straining between them.
The line they’d been skirting for months.
Ever since he’d started asking her to help on more than just his investigative missions for Raven’s Security.
Since she’d become an unofficial member of the group.
What he wouldn’t do to make it official. To move beyond the safe zone they’d been circling — finally get a chance to show her how much he cared.
They’d grown closer, and she’d been throwing him the occasional signal that his persistence wasn’t wasted. But thinking about taking the next step and actually taking her in his arms, kissing her… Those were distinctly different.
Not that he didn’t understand her apprehension.
She’d been captured, held — had god knew what done to her before finally escaping, which based on the few details she’d inadvertently shared, sounded horrific.
All of which translated into ghosts and demons who, he knew firsthand, weren’t easy to vanquish.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have his own. Hadn’t spent years lost in his own trauma. And he knew, given the right circumstances, he was only one bad day away from breaking apart — reverting to the guy who hadn’t been able to separate fact from fiction.
From retreating back into the shadows.
He’d worked hard to get his head straight. To get the rest of the town to see him as anything other than the local conspiracy nut. And if she needed another month, another year, to join him in the light, he’d wait. Because he knew, without a doubt, she’d be worth it.
Tierney crested the last section, set up a couple bottom anchors, then belayed him up, packing everything away once she’d taken a few notes — talked over some alternate routes for the group she’d been hired to guide next month.
The one Buck hoped she’d need his help with.
Another excuse to spend more time with her.
Not that he needed any. Just breathing was enough of a reason to spend the day with her.
The sun dipped low as they arranged their packs, then headed off, transitioning onto a rugged, coastal path that wove along the rocky bench then into the dense timber.
Towering, old-growth Sitka spruce blocked out half of the light, a mix of sword fern and salal covering any available space between the trees.
The roar of the ocean gradually faded, replaced by bird song and the humid, evening air.
Tierney walked in front, vaulting over deadfall and around bramble like water over stone. She didn’t pull out her map, following a line only she saw.
Buck trailed behind, admiring the easy sway of her hips. How she read the terrain with a simple glance. He watched her navigate a rough section, noting the branching deer paths and animal tracks in the mud before pausing, staring at a patch of moss that had been scuffed off a tree, waist high.
He crouched, tracing the line on the bark, noting the sharp edges. Maybe a tool from a belt or the side of a pack. Nearby, a couple salmonberry branches had been snapped off, though the cuts looked too clean, too precise to be natural.
Knife, no doubt.