Chapter 3
Sierra
Ishould have known something like this would happen.
Except how could I have known?
This has to be either the most random coincidence in the world or the most elaborate plot known to mankind, because how the hell did I end up running into my ex in a place like this? This is not at all where I ever expected to see him again, if I ever did.
Even worse, the entire retreat is jointly owned by him, some guy named Talon, and this handsome, cowboy-looking chef named Luke who keeps shooting me curious side-glances.
No doubt he's wondering what the hell is going on between me and Reid—or maybe whether I'm just a nutcase.
I'm sure they get their fair share of loonies turning up here for their so-called “holistic treatments.”
If this was some kind of plot by Reid, Luke clearly wasn’t in on it.
He looked genuinely shocked and confused by my reaction to seeing Reid here.
We flirted basically the whole way here, even after I'd learned he was one of the owners.
I can't imagine him doing that if Reid had told him I was his ex.
Anyway, back to why I am really here.
It’s hard to see Luke as any kind of master manipulator or cult leader. He feels too honest, too down-to-earth, says whatever pops into his mind. Of course, that could just be a front—a way to make me let my guard down. Still, I’d actually started to think maybe I’d been wrong about this place.
I was even looking forward to spending the week here with Luke.
But now that I know Reid is involved, I can’t allow myself that luxury.
And Reid never hinted at who he really was during our correspondence. Why not? What could he possibly hope to gain? Does he just want to screw with my mind more than he already has?
No. That’s too far-fetched, even for him.
I might hate the sonofabitch, but that’s not his style.
He didn’t seek me out—I was the one who reached out to them, asking if I could stay for a week.
Sure, they sweetened the deal by waiving the fee, but it wasn’t their idea, and they didn’t force or trick me into coming here.
What’s for sure is that my encounter with Luke on the road wasn’t staged.
I didn’t tell them what time I’d be arriving, and I didn’t follow the route they laid out either—it looked like it would add another thirty minutes.
Plus, how could they have known my car would break down in that exact spot?
They couldn’t have. The idea is ridiculous.
And yet I’m on edge, looking around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
What’s going on? Why did Reid invite me here? Is this really just about getting me to review their treatments like we discussed… or is there something else?
Reid turns around and meets my gaze. My stomach catapults, then twists sharply under the weight of everything that hits me all at once.
“Relax,” he says.
“I mean it. If you still want to leave once your car’s fixed, we’ll help you go. I can even give you an escort or have someone drive you, like I offered in my email.”
“No thanks,” I say quickly.
“So regular people pay your exorbitant fees? Because I know you don’t just cater to celebrities, right?
” Celebrities can burn money on things like this; I don’t care about them.
It’s the regular folks I’m thinking of — the ones who drop half a year’s paycheck for the promise of peace or healing or answers.
People wasting their money on what might well be brainwashing schemes.
“I see a lot of reviews from regular people.”
“Yeah,” Luke says. “We didn’t create this retreat to cater to celebrities. We reached out to them first to build some buzz, but we’re just as happy—actually happier—to have regular people stay with us. Celebrities can be… demanding.”
“Happy to take normal, average people’s hard-earned money and convince them their problems are all in their heads, that they can overcome their cancer with the right mindset, huh?” I deliver it with a smile, but the venom sits right under it.
To my surprise, Reid doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t snap. Doesn’t even look annoyed.
If anything, he looks… amused.
And then his gaze drops to my mouth. Slowly. Deliberately.
Heat sparks under my skin.
Memories slam into me so fast I almost stumble.
Especially that last night—the fight over something stupid, like always—and then the sex that followed, hard, rough, and devastating.
As much as I hate to admit it, I loved it.
I loved the way his teeth grazed my skin, the way he pushed my thighs apart and drove into me until I screamed. I loved his hand around my throat—not tight, just firm enough to tell me I was his.
I belonged to him.
God help me, I did.
“I want to hear you say it,” he’d growled. “Tell me you’re mine.”
And I had—over and over—until my voice cracked.
Love bites covered my skin by the end of the night.
We broke the damn headboard.
A lamp crashed to the floor.
At some point, we ended up there ourselves, and even after I’d come five times, he kept going like a man who couldn’t stop.
I passed out afterward. Completely spent.
And then he disappeared.
Just… gone.
Got up during the night, took his things, and left without so much as a note. When I woke up, it was like he’d never existed.
No calls.
No texts.
Nothing.
He walked out of my life like it meant nothing.
God, why does he have to reappear now?
Why here?
Why like this?
And why the hell does he have to be so unbearably hot?
Why can’t I ignore the way the silver in his hair suits him, or the way his dark eyes snare mine effortlessly? Why can’t I stop noticing that sadness he carries, the sadness that still makes me want to reach out and touch him even though he’s the one who hurt me most?
“That’s not what we do here,” Luke says, breaking the spell. I turn toward him. “We don’t tell people their problems are all about mindset.”
“Isn’t that basically what Reiki is?”
“No,” he says. “Not even close. Reiki is about energy flows. I could explain it, but it would be better if you experience it.”
I study him, then Reid adds, “Also, we don’t charge everyone the same. We have a pay-what-you-can structure to make sure sessions are affordable for people on lower incomes.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Their visits are subsidized by wealthier clients—celebrities and people who can afford the full rate.”
“Doesn’t sound like a great business model.”
“It probably isn’t,” Luke admits. “But that’s not why we got into this. We get by. It does mean we have to be selective about the clients we take—case by case, depending on what they’re dealing with and whether we think we can help. For now, there are maybe twenty people on the premises.”
“I see.”
“Yeah.”
Reid is still watching me, and I can’t tear my eyes away from him. I still can’t believe he’s here and that after everything, I’m standing in front of him again.
I remember that morning so clearly. The chaos of emotions, the heaviness in my chest, the confusion. At first, I thought he just needed space. I assumed I would hear from him in a day or two.
But then he didn’t show up for class.
Not the next day, or the next.
I texted him—nothing.
Called him—nothing.
I thought something terrible had happened. That he’d drunk himself into a blackout or gotten into a fight with the wrong person. I went to his apartment. Empty. His favorite bar—no sign of him.
And the worst part? There was no one I could even call to check if he was alive. I had never met a single member of his family. He didn’t talk to anyone except me.
I only found out he was still alive weeks later, when the college confirmed he’d picked up his graduation paperwork.
That was when it sank in.
He wasn’t hurt.
He wasn’t missing.
He was just… gone.
Gone because he wanted to be.
Gone because staying with me wasn’t something he could stomach anymore.
And God, that hurt.
It wasn’t the end of the relationship that gutted me—I always knew the thing between us had an expiration date. Neither of us wanted to define what we were because we knew it might break under the weight of a label.
It was how it ended. That was what sliced me open.
We were friends before anything else. Kindred spirits.
Soulmates, even. I told him things I’d never said out loud to another human being.
He’d shown me his ugliest truths in return.
I thought—na?vely, stupidly—that at the very least, that meant I’d get the courtesy of an explanation. A goodbye. Something.
But no.
He left me without even letting me know if he was alive.
And now he’s standing here smiling at me like nothing happened.
Bitterness creeps up the back of my throat, hot and sharp. I hate him. I hate him so much I could scream.
And yet I can’t stop looking at him.
His smoldering eyes.
The beauty mark under his left eye that I used to kiss.
Those deep-set lines in his forehead.
The extra silver in his hair—which annoyingly makes him even hotter.
The sadness in his eyes that hasn’t gone anywhere.
But there’s something new there too.
Something still, grounded, almost peaceful.
Something he never had before.
Is it the Reiki?
How the hell did that happen?
He was never the spiritual type. Not even a little bit.
When did that change?
We’re almost at my door when a soft chime rings out. Reid pulls his phone from his pocket.
“Yeah?”
He listens, face shifting, then says, “I’ll be right there.”
“What’s going on?” Luke asks.
“Amanda needs me.”
The jealousy I feel at hearing another woman’s name is instant, unwanted, and infuriating.
“Speaking of which,” Luke says, “I should probably tell you what the Sheriff said—”
Reid nods, then gestures to the open doorway.
“This is your room, Sierra. My number is on the side table by the phone. I’ll be back with your bags, but call me if you need anything before then.”
I nod stiffly. Thank God he’s leaving. Maybe if I’m alone for a while, I can pull myself together.
The two men walk away, Luke throwing me a playful wink as he turns. Left alone, I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding for what feels like hours.
This is too much.
Way too much.
It’s nearly nightfall. All I want is to lie down, close my eyes, and pretend the last hour didn’t happen. Pretend he didn’t reappear like a ghost I never wanted to see again.
I open the door… and stop dead.
The room is beautiful—all rustic touches and luxury finishes—but it’s the windows that steal my breath. Floor-to-ceiling panes looking out into the forest, and a balcony that’s enormous. Almost indulgent.
Then I see the note on the bed.
Sierra,
I remember how much you hate small, enclosed spaces.
I thought this room would be perfect for you.
Reid
He remembered.
He fucking remembered.
The breath leaves my lungs. A wave of raw, helpless emotion crashes through me.
I can’t do this.
I cannot do this.
A storm rips open inside me.
I have to get out. Out of the room, out of this building, out of this mountain.
I bolt down the hall, the soft chime of bells making my anxiety spike.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I burst out the front doors, take the stairs two at a time, and run down the long driveway, into the trees, following some half-formed trail.
I don’t know where I’m going. Don’t know what I expect to find. I just know I can’t be in that place.
I run until my legs give out.
I crumple to the forest floor, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. Every gasp feels jagged, every sound torn from somewhere deep and raw. I don’t know who I am anymore, let alone where I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. I feel wrung out, limp, useless—like a discarded rag doll.
The night is closing in around me, shadows pooling between the trees. I know I should move, think, care… but I can’t. Not right now. Not anymore.