Chapter 1 #2
June nods. "She's right. This is definitely more interesting."
"I hate both of you."
"No you don't. Now answer the question."
I think about it. What would I say to Cage Brody if I had the chance?
"I'd ask him why he's here," I say finally. "Not in Iron Peak, but here, at the bar. If he wants to be alone so badly, why not drink at home?"
Rosie considers this. "That's actually a good question."
"Thank you."
"I'd ask him if he needs help with anything," June says. "That cabin of his has to need repairs, or supplies. Something."
"He'd tell you no."
"Probably, but I'd still ask."
"What would you ask him?" I look at Rosie.
She doesn't hesitate. "I'd ask him what he's running from."
The words hang in the air between us.
"You think he's running from something?" June asks.
"Everyone who comes to Iron Peak is running from something, hiding from something, or trying to forget something." Rosie shrugs. "That's just how it is."
"That's cynical."
"That's realistic."
"What are you running from?" I ask her.
"Myself, mostly. And memories I can't do anything about." She says it lightly, but there's an edge underneath. "What about you?"
"I'm not running."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Living."
"In a cabin, alone, with chickens."
"I like chickens."
"You like chickens because they don't ask questions."
She's not wrong.
June breaks the tension. "I think we're all here because we're looking for something. Not running, but looking."
"Looking for what?" Rosie asks.
"I don't know yet. That's the point."
The jukebox switches songs, and someone by the pool table cheers. The tourist who asked for a mojito has given up and accepted a beer instead. Elsie is still talking, her hands moving animatedly, and Caleb looks like he's regretting sitting near her.
I glance at Cage one more time.
He's still staring at his drink, his profile sharp in the firelight.
And then, as if he feels me watching, he looks up.
Our eyes meet.
His gaze locks on mine, and I can't look away.
For a moment, everything else fades. The noise, the warmth, Rosie and June's voices. All of it disappears, and it's just him and me and the space between us that feels both infinite and nonexistent.
His eyes are dark and guarded. But there's something underneath, maybe recognition, or just curiosity.
My heart kicks against my ribs.
Then he looks away, back to his drink, and the moment shatters.
I exhale, realizing I'd been holding my breath.
"You okay?" June asks softly.
"Yeah." I pick up my glass and drain it, the burn barely registering. "I'm fine."
Rosie gives me a look but doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. I know what she's thinking.
Stay away from Cage Brody.
It’s good advice, and I should take it.
"We should probably go," June says, glancing at her watch. "It's getting late."
"Late?" Rosie checks her phone. "It's nine thirty."
"That's late for me."
"You're thirty-five, not seventy."
"I like my sleep schedule."
"You like your excuses."
They bicker as we gather our things, pulling on coats and gloves. I leave cash on the table for Grizz and follow them toward the door.
I don't look back at Cage.
Outside, the cold slaps my face, and I pull my jacket tighter. My breath puffs out in clouds, and the stars are sharp and bright overhead.
"You good to walk home?" Rosie asks, keys in hand.
"Yeah. It's only a mile."
"Text when you get there."
"I will."
"I mean it, India. Don't make me drive back out here because you forgot."
"I won't forget."
"You forgot last time."
"That was once."
"Once is enough."
June gives me a hug. "Ignore her, she worries because she cares."
"I know."
They climb into Rosie's truck, and I wave as they drive off, the taillights disappearing into the dark.
I start walking, my boots crunching on the icy gravel. The mountains loom on all sides, their peaks lost in shadow. I love it here. I love the quiet, the space, the way Iron Peak feels like the edge of the world.
But tonight, the quiet feels heavier, because I can't stop thinking about the way Cage looked at me.
Like he saw me. Not through me, not past me, but actually saw me.
And I have no idea what to do with that.
By the time I reach my cabin, my fingers are numb and my thoughts are spinning. I unlock the door and step inside, grateful for the warmth I left behind in the wood stove.
I feed it another log, then pour myself a glass of water and stand by the window, looking out at the dark ridge.
Cage Brody lives somewhere up there, alone and by choice.
I wonder what that's like: to be so certain you don't need anyone. Or maybe it's not certainty, maybe it's just easier to pretend.
I shake my head and turn away from the window, it doesn't matter. Cage made it clear a long time ago that he's not interested in being part of this town. Not really.
And I'm not naive enough to think one look across a bar changes that.
But as I climb into bed, pulling the quilts up to my chin, I can't shake the feeling that something shifted tonight.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, but all I see is Cage Brody's dark eyes, looking at me like I'm the only person in the room.