Chapter 2
Reid
Luke hasn’t called.
I told him to call when he got to the Sheriff’s station, or at least on his way back, but he’s done neither, which is typical for Luke.
I probably shouldn’t have sent him, but I was tied up, and Talon… well, he’d probably have an aneurysm if he had to talk to anyone who wasn’t Luke or me. He also doesn’t like cops, for reasons he refuses to discuss.
Talon’s a part-owner, born and raised in these mountains, but he still keeps to himself, living in a cabin in the woods and avoiding guests and most staff. That leaves Luke as our spokesperson, which means every simple errand turns into a detour. He loves a side quest.
Which is probably where he is now—and why he’s not answering his phone.
Annoyance tightens my shoulders.
Some days it feels like I’m running this place alone.
I really didn’t need this today. I’m already on edge about a possible threat to one of our guests.
Amanda finally started opening up yesterday. She comes here to escape her partner—who also happens to be the mayor of her town. Old money, a very long political reach, and a reputation for being a dangerous man to cross.
He wasn’t supposed to know where she was, but yesterday a message found its way to her anyway.
Our security’s solid, but I still want the local police to be aware of the situation. Paper trails matter when things escalate.
Hence Luke’s trip this morning.
Hopefully he stuck to the script.
I push back from my desk and stand, pacing. My shoulders are tight, a dull headache building at the base of my skull.
I take a breath. Then another. Letting some of the tension drain.
It helps. A little.
But the moment my thoughts loosen, they land on her.
Sierra.
She’s supposed to be here today. She should be here already. I told security to alert me the second she arrived.
I want to give her a personal tour, and I want—God help me—the chance to talk to her.
Assuming she doesn’t bolt at the sight of me.
She might punch me. She’s feisty enough. She might cry.
Or worse… she might look straight through me like I don’t exist.
That last one hits hardest.
Five years, three months, and twenty-four days. I’ve felt every one of them.
I stayed away because I thought it was best for her. She won’t see it that way.
The last time we saw each other, we argued. Then we fucked. The next morning, before sunrise, I left. No explanation. No goodbye.
I had to. If I’d stayed, I never would’ve gone.
What we had was incredible. It was also turning toxic—because of me. My self-destruction was bleeding into her life, and I couldn’t stand seeing that hurt in her eyes.
So I made sure she’d hate me.
It didn’t change how I felt. Not even close.
I kept tabs on her over the years. Told myself it was just to make sure she was okay.
But no matter how often I thought about her, how many times she showed up in my dreams, I stayed away.
Until she reached out about the retreat.
I should’ve said no. I didn’t.
Because suddenly she was within reach again.
I check the clock. Too much time has passed.
Damn it. Where is she?
Did she take the wrong road? Did she break down on the mountain?
“Jeez,” I mutter, heading out of my office.
The meditation classes are underway, soft voices drifting through the halls, water trickling in the courtyard, bells chiming faintly in the background.
None of it touches the tension in my chest.
I push outside into the bright daylight just as the compound gates begin to slide open.
Relief hits first, then stops cold. A red truck rolls through.
Luke.
But he’s not alone. In the passenger seat, I catch a glimpse of blonde hair. A familiar profile. A smile I’d know anywhere.
Sierra.
Even after I clawed my way through my own healing, even after I exorcised most of my demons, I still didn’t reach out. I figured I was the last person she’d want to hear from, so I kept my distance.
Until I saw her review.
I’ve known about her YouTube channel for a while, and sometimes, when I couldn’t help myself, I’d watch her videos. She gives solid advice, but that’s not why I watched. I watched because I was starving for her, and that was the only way to see her.
I’ve watched every video at least ten times, and one of them probably fifty. She held eye contact the whole time, and I know every word of it.
And yeah… I’ve gotten off to it more than once.
I close my eyes briefly at the memory. It felt pathetic the first time, worse the second, and I told myself I wouldn’t do it again, but I did. Again, and again.
I’ve kicked most of my vices, but Sierra Leon is the one I can’t kick.
So, when she reached out about visiting the retreat—without realizing I was one of its owners—I knew I should say no, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not when she was suddenly within reach again.
I’ve been imagining her arrival every day since, and I need to pull myself together before I see her, because after all these years this isn’t going to be a happy reunion. She almost certainly hates me, or at least holds plenty of contempt, assuming she feels anything at all.
Still, part of me wants her here because I want to help her. When we first met, we bonded over the dark places in our pasts, and while I’ve spent years coming to terms with mine, I don’t know if she’s done the same, and suddenly I need to know.
I open my eyes and check the clock, realizing too much time has passed and she should be here by now.
I wonder if she’s backing out or if she’s lost, and I hope she followed the map I sent instead of the GPS route, because the new road isn’t on Google Maps yet but it’s far safer than the old mountain pass.
If she didn’t take it, she could be in trouble.
“Jeez,” I mutter as I pace out of my office, unable to shake the urgency building inside me, the sense that something’s wrong.
Did she break down on the mountain?
Meditation classes are underway, soft voices drifting through the halls while water trickles in the courtyard and bells chime faintly, but none of it calms me as I push outside into the bright daylight just as the compound gates begin to slide open.
Relief hits first, then drops away when a familiar red truck rolls through.
Luke.
But he’s not alone.
Through the windshield, I catch a glimpse of blonde hair, a familiar profile, a smile I’d know anywhere.
Sierra.
My chest tightens as everything else fades, leaving only her.
She’s here, after five years, and I can’t believe I lasted this long without seeing her properly.
She looks almost the same, her blonde hair longer, her skin warmer and sun-kissed, her body fuller and healthier, her tank top revealing slender, toned arms that tell me she’s taking care of herself.
And she’s smiling, laughing, and something inside me eases at the sight, even as a flicker of jealousy threads through it, because I’m glad she’s smiling, even if it’s not at me.
I’ll have to warn Luke to back off. He’s flirty by default, but he usually knows better than to go near someone vulnerable, and Sierra may not look it, but she is. I just have to make sure he understands she’s off-limits.
I wait on the steps as they pull up, watching as Luke hops out to open her door while I stay partially hidden behind a pillar so she doesn’t see me yet. She’s still focused on whatever she’s telling him, animated and bright, and he’s hanging on every word.
I watch her face, her hands, the way she moves, and then the memory hits me—Sierra on white sheets, that teasing smile tugging at her lips as she pulls me down, her breath, her voice, the way she said my name—
“I can’t wait, baby. Fuck, I have to taste you.”
I snap out of it with a sharp shake of my head, forcing myself back to the present.
Fuck. Get it together.
I clear my throat, and they both turn, but it takes her a second, then another, before recognition lands. Her face drains of color, the smile vanishing as her jaw drops and her eyes widen, shock hitting first, sharp and raw, before it twists into something worse.
Heartbreak.
It punches straight through me, and even though Luke says something, I don’t hear him, because all I can focus on is her, on the heartbreak turning into fury.
“Is this some kind of joke?” she snarls, and Luke actually jolts.
“Um, no, we really do have pizza night on Thursdays,” he says. “It’s our one unhealthy night, but it’s voluntary, so if you hate it or, uh, miss the broccoli and salad—”
“No.” She points at me. “Him. What the fuck is he doing here?”
“Who? Reid?”
“Yes!”
Luke glances between us, confusion flickering across his face. “Well, it’s kind of hard to get rid of him, considering he co-owns the place.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Co-owner. Three of us. Me, him, and Talon, though you’ll probably never meet Talon,” he adds, obviously struggling to get a grip on what’s going on.
She stares at him, stunned, then swings her gaze back to me, her nostrils flaring, her whole face flushing red with fury.
If only she didn’t look so damn beautiful when she’s furious.
“I can explain everything,” I say, my hands held wide, and that finally breaks her frozen stare.
“No.” She shakes her head violently. “Abso-fucking-lutely not.” She storms back to Luke’s truck, yanks the passenger door open and gets in, slams it shut, then screams out the window, “Get me off this mountain right… fucking… now!”
Luke’s confusion sharpens into alarm as he looks at me, the unspoken question plain in his eyes: “What the hell did you do to her to make her this mad at you?”
I sigh and step towards the truck, my hands still apart. “Sierra…”
“No. I’m not doing this, Reid. I’m not fucking doing this.”
“Just come inside. Let’s talk.”
“Why am I even here?”
“You said you wanted to check out the place.”
“Did you know who I was when you replied to that email? Did you lure me here?”
“No. Our social media guy booked you in, and then afterwards he forwarded your booking to me.”
“And it never occurred to you to pick up the phone, or write and tell me who you were?” Her eyes flash with pure rage. “And I suppose this must be where you’ve been hiding all this time?”
“No. Not all of the time. Just come in first, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“No way. Forget it. I want to leave.”
“Please… just give us a chance—give me a chance.”
She shakes her head, breathing hard.
“What happened to liberating the crazies?” Luke cuts in as he wanders closer. “I thought that was your whole mission up here.”
That stops her cold. She bites her lip, her brows knitting, then shoots him a glare too.
“Look, I’m not sure what the hell is going on,” Luke says, “or how you two know each other. But the fact is you can’t go anywhere tonight, even if you want to.
Your car won’t be drivable for a few hours, and by then it’ll be dark.
At minimum you’ll have to stay for tonight at least. Then tomorrow, if you want, I’ll take you back to your car, we’ll top up the coolant and water, and you can go. ”
I open my mouth to argue—I don’t want her going anywhere—but Luke shoots me a sharp warning look, and a moment later I understand why. The offer calms her. Not much, but enough.
She rolls her eyes, opens the truck door, and steps out.
“Okay, if I have to. But just for tonight. Is that clear?”