Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Rhett
The second I realize Nora’s gone, something cold and violent tears loose inside me.
Not panic.
Panic gets people killed.
This is worse.
This is focus sharpened into something brutal.
The cabin door slams behind me hard enough to shake the walls as I hit the porch, snow driving sideways through the trees in thick sheets that would blind most men in under five minutes.
Not me. I scan the ground once and find her tracks immediately cutting away from the cabin toward the lower ridge trail.
“Goddamn it, Nora.”
My jaw locks hard enough to ache.
She lied to me.
Snuck out while I was splitting wood behind the shed because she thought she could protect me by handling this alone.
The thought should piss me off more than it does.
Mostly it terrifies me.
I crouch lower, fingers brushing fresh snow where her boot slipped near the trail edge. She’d been moving fast. Nervous. The imprint is deeper than it should be.
Then I see the second set of tracks.
Male.
Heavy.
Following hers.
Every muscle in my body goes still.
Not fear.
Calculation.
The kind drilled into me overseas until instinct became survival.
Wind shifts through the trees, carrying sound with it, and suddenly I’m back in desert heat instead of mountain snow, blood in my mouth, smoke filling my lungs while radio chatter screams through my headset.
Move.
Find them.
Get there first.
I force the memory down hard and keep moving.
Fast now.
The storm works against me, snow swallowing tracks almost as quickly as they’re made, but whoever took her isn’t mountain trained. He’s cutting through low ground instead of elevation cover, breaking branches, leaving drag marks where Nora fought him.
Good.
Means she didn’t give in easy.
That thought does something ugly to me.
I move harder through the woods, rifle strapped across my back while adrenaline burns through every nerve ending. The wind howls louder the deeper I go into the timber, but underneath it, I catch something else.
Voices.
Ahead.
Close.
I kill my flashlight instantly and move silent through the trees.
The abandoned ranger station comes into view through blowing snow.
And then I see her.
Nora’s shoved against the side of the building, wrists zip-tied in front of her while some bastard grips her jaw hard enough to bruise.
Everything inside me snaps.
The guy’s talking, too focused on her to notice me moving through the storm behind him.
“You were always going to end up with me,” he’s saying quietly. “You just picked the wrong man first.”
Nora’s eyes flick past him.
Find mine.
And something raw hits my chest when her entire expression changes.
Relief.
Not panic.
Not fear.
Relief because I came for her.
The stalker notices it instantly.
He turns and realization spikes through me.
Deputy Sheriff Foster. Fuck. I knew I hated that prick.
I hit him before he has a chance to think and the impact drives him sideways into the snow hard enough to crack his head against the ranger station wall. He grunts once before I’m on him again, fist slamming into his face with enough force to split skin across my knuckles instantly.
“You touched her,” I say, voice low and shaking with rage.
He spits blood into the snow and swings back fast.
I dodge easily.
Too easy.
Military training never really leaves your body. Violence becomes muscle memory after enough years surviving it.
He comes at me again.
I grab his arm.
Twist.
The crack echoes through the trees.
He screams.
Good.
Nora gasps somewhere behind me, but I barely hear it over the roaring in my head.
All I can see is her tied up.
Terrified.
Bruises already forming on her skin.
I hit him again.
And again.
The guy collapses into the snow trying to crawl backward while blood pours from his mouth.
“You should’ve stayed away from her,” I growl.
“You don’t own her,” he spits.
That’s the wrong thing to say.
I grab him by the throat and slam him hard into the ground, snow exploding around us while something black and vicious tears loose inside my chest completely.
“No,” I say quietly. “But she’s under my protection.”
His hand scrambles toward his jacket pocket.
Weapon.
I react before thought catches up.
My fist collides with his jaw hard enough to knock him flat again. Then my hands are around his throat.
Tight.
Violent.
Primal.
The storm disappears.
The mountain disappears.
All I see is Nora shaking in the snow because this bastard hunted her from the moment she arrived on my mountain and thought he could take her from me.
He claws at my wrists desperately.
Good.
Let him feel it.
“You scared her,” I say, squeezing harder. “You broke into my cabin. You put your hands on her.”
His face turns purple beneath me.
And the terrifying part?
Part of me wants to keep going.
Part of me wants to crush his throat and leave his body buried beneath six feet of snow where nobody ever finds him.
“Rhett.”
Nora’s voice cuts through the rage barely.
“Rhett.”
My grip tightens anyway.
I can hear her struggling closer behind me.
“Rhett, stop.”
I freeze.
Not because of him.
Because of her.
Because her voice sounds scared.
Of me.
The realization hits like ice water dumped straight over my head.
I release him abruptly and shove backward to my feet while the stalker coughs violently in the snow beneath me.
Every breath I drag in burns.
Nora’s standing there shaking hard, snow clinging to her hair and coat while her wide eyes lock onto mine.
Blood coats my hands.
For one terrible second, neither of us moves.
Then she breaks first.
Not away from me.
Toward me.
She practically crashes into my chest, and the second her body hits mine, something inside me settles enough to breathe again.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur roughly, hands sliding around her immediately. “I’ve got you.”
Her breathing breaks apart against my throat.
“God, Rhett, he was there the whole time.”
I hold her tighter.
Behind us, the stalker groans somewhere in the snow.
I don’t even look at him.
Right now all I care about is the woman shaking in my arms.
“You’re okay,” I say firmly.
“I thought—” Her voice cracks. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t find me.”
That nearly destroys me.
I pull back just enough to grip her face between my hands. “Nora.” My voice drops lower. Rougher. “There’s nowhere on this mountain I wouldn’t go for you.”
Her eyes flood instantly.
And fuck, that does me in completely.
I cut the zip ties from her wrists with my hunting knife before shrugging out of my coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. She’s freezing.
“You hurt anywhere?”
“My shoulder,” she admits quietly. “He shoved me into the wall.”
My jaw tightens again.
“Don’t,” she says immediately, reading my expression too easily now.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
“No, you’re not.”
“He deserves it.”
“Maybe,” she whispers. “But I don’t want that on you.”
That stops me.
Because even now, bruised and terrified and standing in the middle of a blizzard after being kidnapped, she’s worried about me.
Jesus Christ.
I brush snow from her hair carefully, my thumb dragging across her cold cheek.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
Her lips tremble slightly. “You’re still really hot when you’re furious.”
A startled laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
“There she is.”
Her eyes soften.
Then she steps closer and presses herself fully against me like she needs reassurance I’m real.
I understand that feeling too well.
By the time we get back to the cabin, the storm’s nearly whiteout conditions. I lock every door immediately while Nora stands near the fire rubbing warmth back into her hands.
“You gonna stare at the windows all night?” she asks softly.
“Probably.”
She watches me for a second before crossing the room slowly.
Then her fingers curl around the hem of my thermal shirt.
“Come here.”
The words hit harder than they should.
I step toward her automatically.
Her hands slide up my chest slowly, deliberate, her gaze searching mine with something deeper than attraction now.
Trust.
That wrecks me worse than anything else tonight.
“You came for me,” she whispers.
“Always.”
Something shifts in her expression at that.
Then she kisses me.
Hard.
Desperate.
All fear and relief and adrenaline colliding at once as she drags me down against her mouth like she needs to feel I’m alive.
I grip her waist instantly, hauling her closer until there’s no space left between us.
“Nora,” I murmur against her lips.
“Don’t talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She laughs softly against my mouth before kissing me again, slower this time, deeper, her fingers tangling into my shirt while heat replaces the cold still clinging to her skin.
And when I carry her toward my bedroom a few minutes later, she doesn’t fight me.
Not even a little.
At the bed’s edge, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans; she pivots toward me and tugs, denim peeling past my hips.
“You desperate for my cock, city girl?” I tease, catching her fumbling fingers on the zipper.
Her breath catches as she looks up at me, eyes wide, lips parted. “Yes, please.”
I smirk. “Maybe I should make you dance for me.” But I barely give her time—my hands take over, dragging jeans and boxer briefs down in one smooth motion.
I watch her face light up when she finally sees me properly. Tall, hard, arching slightly to the side. Her mouth waters. I can feel the swell of pride and need rolling through me. Just as she’s about to drop to her knees, I tip her chin back with a gentle grip.
“Eyes up,” I murmur. Then I slip my fingers into her hair and crush my mouth to hers in a kiss that sets my blood on fire. My tongue presses past her lips, plunging into hers with everything I’ve held in since she arrived— a mere appetizer for what’s to come.
She sighs into me. “Sweet Nora,” I whisper against her mouth as I ease her backward onto the fluffy white duvet.
My body presses firmly into hers; she melts into the sheets.
My hands roam her curves, kneading the soft flesh of her hips as I trail hot kisses up her ribcage.
When our mouths meet again, it’s slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of her.
She trembles beneath me. My heart clenches. “You’re the only one for me, I need you to know that.” The words tumble out, raw and honest. I’ve thought them a thousand times, but they feel brand-new.
She freezes. Her heartbeat thumps against my chest.
“Me?” she breathes.
I nod. “Boys are always stupid—we don’t know what we want until we become men, and even then, we fuck it up. All I knew was something was missing until I saw you at the auction that day. I never realized what it was… until now. I was missing you, Nora. I need you.”
Her breath hitches; I feel her whole body soften under me. I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Shh… Tonight, I just want you. Whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll face it together. But tonight… it’s just you and me.”
Her nod is the only permission I need. I trail my lips down her neck, admiring the way her skin shivers. Then I close my hand around my cock, slick with anticipation, and press the head against her wetness. “I’m clean,” I promise, voice low. “I’ve never been with anyone else.”
Her gasp is a gift. She lifts herself slightly, catching my neck in slender hands, and she kisses me back with desperate sweetness. “I’m a virgin,” she whispers against my lips. “ I’ve never been with anyone else either. No one ever makes me feel like you do. I want you, all of you.”
My heart pounds. I slide into her mouth, slipping past her lips, tasting her desire. She sighs around me, and I savor the moment before pulling away to line myself at her entrance. With one slow, steady push, we’re joined—skin to skin, hearts beating together.
She’s so tight and warm around me. “Oh my God, Rhett,” she moans, and every word sends a spark through me.
I rock my hips gently, savoring the friction. One hand cradles the nape of her neck as I kiss her again; the other fingers weave into her hair. When she wraps her arms around me, pulling me in deeper, I know I’ve come home.
“Jesus, I’m so glad I found you,” I murmur into her ear as she rides me, our bodies slick with heat. “I was terrified you’d left, that someone else had you. I prayed I could get to you in time.”
Her movements quicken, matching the rhythm in my chest. “I’m so glad you found me,” she breathes.
I grin, pressing my lips to her collarbone. My other hand slips down to her clit, rubbing in firm circles. She shudders, her breath scattering. “Come on me,” I raspy-whisper. “Give me another sexy moan.”
Her voice breaks free—a cascading wave of tears and pleasure. I spasm inside her, vision swimming as my cum fills her, knotting me to her forever. I collapse beside her, tucking her under my arm, drawing her close.
We lie there in the afterglow, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across my chest hair. I nuzzle into her hair, still buzzing.
“I feel like I’m in another atmosphere. I’ve never felt this way, so consumed and cared for and loved.”
“You and me both,” I breathe against her lips.
I smile, heart full, and feel sleep tug at my eyelids. Beside me, Nora drifts off, and I imagine our future: dark-haired toddlers running around this mountain, teaching them how to fish and hunt, her at my side always. I stroke her hair, savoring the soft rise and fall of her breath.
For the first time in years, I can’t wait for tomorrow.