2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Jack
I get out of my truck just as an icy wind blasts across the mountain.
“Fuck,” I grunt, pulling my jacket over my chest.
I thought the whiskey was supposed to warm me up? Guess I’m too cold and dark inside already.
Spending all night at the bar in Misty Peaks Mountain has become a welcome distraction for me. Once a month I head down, slam a few beers and play pool with some old military buddies. We swap stories, banter and booze, and then fuck off home again.
It’s not much. I still feel dead inside. But at least I feel dead with a glass of whiskey in my hand.
“Georgie!” I call out, whistling through my fingers for my dog. “Come on, girl!”
An excited shadow skirts around my cabin, bounding up the steps to rub against me. Georgie’s wet from the rain, so I pop the front door open, and she heads straight for the warmth of the fire. Within minutes, she’s curled in a brown and white ball, sleeping soundly with the flames flickering behind her.
I go to my fridge and grab a beer, my body creaking as I bend. I don’t move like I used to, back when I roamed the earth keeping the bad guys at bay. One night out and my bones are aching, my head throbbing like the hangover has hit already.
There’s got to be more to life than this.
I escaped to this remote spot decades ago. I needed the sanctuary of the wilderness. I needed a place to reset, to escape to after having bullets fired my way, grenades thrown at me, and knives lodged in my arm.
Yeah, being a Navy SEAL was tough, but at least it gave me purpose.
I reach for the scar on my left shoulder, the raised skin of my biggest wound reminding me of days gone. Do I miss it? Fuck yeah I do. The thrill of the hunt. The fighting and violence. The feeling of my unit having my back every step of the fucking way.
I miss feeling like I have a purpose. Feeling like I have something to fight for. Feeling as if I have something to protect.
I miss feeling… feeling something.
I swallow a long gulp of beer and lean on my kitchen bench, gazing out the window. It’s pitch-black outside. Darkness covers the land, leaving only the sound of the wind whistling past my tiny cabin to remind me that I’m alive.
I close my eyes and memories flood my brain. It’s always there, lurking in the darkness of my mind. I start to shake, and I curse at myself to stop.
I really shouldn’t drink hard liquor; it makes the visions worse.
But I can’t stop. I need something to numb the pain.
A few more minutes pass and I’m still standing there, sweaty and shaking.
Men are falling in front of my eyes, their heads blown off, limbs shredded to pieces. There are noises, a mix of screaming and frightened calls for help. I can’t reach them, but I run. Faster and faster. I’ll get there. I’ll get there. If I just reach the screams, maybe, maybe I can save them.
A blast shatters inside my head, forcing my eyes to snap open.
Everything around me stills.
I’m safe inside my cabin. Fuck. I can’t keep doing this. I need help.
But then another blast strikes, and I know for sure it’s not the trauma causing the vibration. It rattled my front door and even Georgie has sat up to take notice.
I push up off the counter, my legs still shaking from my most recent flashback. They never get easier, but at least the sound of knocking at my cabin door has cut this one short. Another pounding of the door sounds more urgent, so I reach into the pantry and grab my rifle.
I grit my teeth as my heart pounds.
“Who the fuck is it?” I shout, fist clenching the rifle at my side.
They don’t respond, instead, there’s another knock. A softer one.
Shaking my head I yank the door open and take a quick step back. I pull the gun to my shoulder, ready to fire the moment I’m attacked. It’s my military training coming out. Preparing me for whatever danger is on the other side of the door.
But all the training in the world can’t prepare me for what I see.
Stunning blue eyes, so bright and beautiful they make me drop my weapon. I swallow hard and take a step forward, but the stunning woman in front of me gives me a terrified look.
“Jack?” she whimpers, eyes filled with tears.
And then it sinks in.
“Emma? Is that-” I gulp down, my voice low and shaky. “Is that you?”
She looks up at me, suddenly struggling to hold back her tears. She quivers right in front of me, and it’s the damned hardest thing I’ve ever had to watch.
Harder than seeing her father die right before my eyes.
“Oh my god, Emma…” I pull her into my arms and hold her there.
Ryan was a good man, and it should have been me that was caught in the blast. Not him. Not him dammit. He had everything, and he was my best friend. The proud leader of our unit, he never let us down. Not once. I don’t care what the military report says - it’s all bull shit. They weren’t there. They didn’t see the ambush, the surprise attack in the depths of the forest.
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Emma says, her body shaking beneath me.
I hold her tight. “It’s ok, it’s ok, sweet girl.”
I kick the door closed and wheel back towards the sofa, setting Emma down beside me. Why she’s apologizing I don’t know, but with her in my arms, suddenly nothing else matters.
My pulse is hammering as I leave my hand placed firmly on her knee. Georgie thinks it’s an invitation to get all excited. Her tail is wagging from side to side, her wet nose nudging Emma’s hand so she pats her on the head.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Emma says, sliding a hand down Georgie’s head.
“Don’t spoil her too much,” I grunt. “She’ll expect it all the time.”
Emma laughs and I feel the relief flood out of me. We look at each other for a moment and it’s like the world stops spinning.
She’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. She’s obviously beautiful, with pale blond hair and perfect big blue eyes to match. Her cheeks are rosy and whenever she lifts those plump lips, I see a hint of two cute as fuck dimples.
My heart skips a beat and I find myself clearing my throat. I need to break the dangerous thoughts of my best friend’s daughter racing through my head.
“I’m so sorry for just surprising you like this,” Emma says, long lashes blinking up at me.
I let her go, but my hands instantly feel colder. My body aches, but it’s different to the pain and suffering that I’m usually forced to tolerate.
“Don’t be sorry, Emma. You’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you ok?” I frown, getting the feeling something is off. “Why are you driving up a mountain at night?”
I want to ask how she found me. Her father has been dead for years, and her mother, well, I think she took his death the hardest.
Emma hesitates as a fresh wave of tears fill those beautiful eyes. I scooch closer and grab her hand, squeezing it tight. Goddammit, I’ll do anything to make sure she never looks like this again. I want to take away all her pain. She’s terrified, horror etched across her beautiful features.
With a deep breath, she reveals her terrifying incident in the city. She tells me how she was attacked, not for the first time. She tells me about the man who won’t leave her alone and every muscle in my body clenches.
“I want to find that fucker,” I snap, the gravel in my voice harsh against my throat.
“I know, he’s scary. I didn’t know where else to go,” Emma says, staring at the ground as Georgie nudges her wet nose into her palm for more. “I just thought maybe I can stay here for a few days, while I sort my shit out.”
I nod. “Stay as long as you want.”
Her eyes fill with gratitude, and something ignites inside of me.
She’s not going anywhere.
She’s staying right here, right where I can protect her for the rest of her life.
“My bag is in my car, I’ll just go and-”
“No, I’ll get it,” I say, rising up off the sofa. “You stay here. Looks like your new friend needs you to pat her back to sleep.”
Emma laughs and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.
The way she looks up at me, so innocent. So pure.
I force myself away from her and climb down the steps of my porch. I can’t believe I didn’t even notice a car driving up the mountain, usually I’m so alert to those types of things.
But I’ve been all over the place lately. The blackouts. The flashbacks. They’re all getting worse, it’s no wonder I didn’t hear her.
Fighting against the wind, I reach Emma’s car and peer inside. I see a bag tossed in the passenger’s seat and a few pieces of clothing thrown in the back. I collect it all together and shove it in the only bag I find.
When I push it all down with my fist, my knuckles collide with a sharp edge.
I reach in and retrieve an old photo frame, the picture inside making my stomach drop right out from beneath me.
Ryan and Stella.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I haven’t seen this picture of my best friend in years. My heart fucking pounds inside my chest. He’s smiling next to his wife, his arms curled around a tiny little baby.
They’re standing in front of the cabin I used to live in, just up the mountain another few minute’s drive from here. I lived there before I built this one, but it was too much. I had to get away and start fresh.
I remember the day this photo was taken - they were so excited to show off their little princess. The princess that now sits in my cabin, looking all grown up and too damn tempting.
“You look so proud, buddy,” I whisper, my thumb dragging across the baby’s tiny head. A feeling of regret squeezes my lungs tight. “I’ll keep your little girl safe.”
I toss the photo in the bag and shove down any feelings of Emma that I might be thinking about. My best friend gave his life for me, the least an old, depraved man like me can do is make damn sure his family is taken care of.
I march back inside and hold up the bag. “Is this all you got?”
Emma nods, cute plump cheeks glowing red.
Goddamn. She’s not going to make this easy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you some clothes from Misty Peaks tomorrow.” I place her bag down beside the bookshelf in the corner. “Are you hungry? I was about to cook something.”
If downing six beers before passing out on the couch counts as cooking.
She stands and moves across the cabin. I try to keep my eyes off her, but she’s too goddamn beautiful. Those fucking blue eyes are staring at me, so much trust and admiration making them sparkle.
Fuck, if only she knew what was going through my head right now. Would she feel sorry for an old man like me? If she knew what was going through my head, would she be rethinking her choice? Would she still feel safe here?
“If it’s ok, I might just take a shower and try to get some rest. I’ve been driving all day and had a pretty rough night last night.”
I nod wildly. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Shower is right there.”
I point down the hall and hate that my cock twitches when I watch the sway of her hips. She closes the door and I hear the tap turn on, the creaking of the water pipes echoing inside my dark head. Images of her naked body swarm my brain and I yank the door to the fridge open.
Clutching a beer, I grip it open and swallow it in one giant gulp.
You’re a terrible person. Get a grip.
I toss the empty bottle in the sink, and it clatters with the one I had earlier. I shake my head, wondering if this is the type of man Ryan wanted his little girl to end up with? A drunken shadow of a man, broken and scarred.
“No,” I grunt at myself. “No, I won’t fail. I’ll do this, and I’ll fucking do it for her .”
I go to the fridge and empty every last bottle of beer, watching as the poison swirls down the drain. Emma’s father died for our unit, he died for me. I’m going to care for this wonderful woman - his daughter.
And if I’m going to do that… if I’m any chance of taking care of this princess…
I need to clean up my act and get my head right.