Chapter 5
CONNOR
It was a dick move to slip out before the sun even came up and leave the homestead to come to town, yet again avoiding the confrontation with Killian that I have known has been coming for days.
But after my conversation with Willow last night, I knew she would walk right back into that cabin and tell him everything…
and that he’d come looking for me today.
And I wouldn’t be able to get away from him this time.
I’m a fucking chicken shit for driving down the mountain when I knew he wasn’t up yet, but after another sleepless night filled with the demons that always haunt me and Willow’s words, I couldn’t handle that confrontation.
Not from my big brother.
In a few hours, he’ll come into the McBride Timber office and it will happen, but a little time away from the homestead, a breather from those memories will at least prepare me better for it.
I wasn’t even sure where I was going when I drove past the lumberyard and into town.
Now that I’m on a deserted Main Street, I could go to the diner and wait for Matt and Elaine to open when the clock hits five a.m. and their early bird customers start pouring in, but something about what Willow said last night has been battering around the back of my brain ever since then.
Raven is up to something.
For the first time in months, Willow’s worry for her friend competed with my demons for attention as I laid in bed, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the fuck Raven might be doing.
It isn’t like her to keep things from Willow.
She’s always been sneaky, slinking off to talk to people, to write her stories—to do the devil’s work, as I like to call it—but this is different.
Willow finds that almost entertaining.
But now, Willow seems genuinely concerned.
God knows I shouldn’t give a shit about the woman who hates me so intensely and who goes out of her way to make my life, and that of my brothers, source material for her sleazy gossip column.
But just like Raven pointed out the night she came to my cabin, I do care about Willow, and if anything were to happen to Raven, it would destroy that sweet, beautiful woman, and, in turn, my brother, and I can’t let that happen.
Which is probably why, against my better judgment, I pull to the curb outside the bakery, and stare up at the windows above it, at Raven’s apartment…and the lights on in it.
Suspicious as hell…
Even if Willow hadn’t said a word to me about being worried Raven was up to something, this would be enough to convince me.
Raven has never been an early riser. Even when the newspaper was still operating and she had an actual boss to answer to, she stumbled in there only after nine, and only after many cups of coffee in her.
We all heard Old Man Murray come into the diner complaining about it enough to understand her usual schedule.
She isn’t the type to be up before the sun. She doesn’t jog. She doesn’t hike. She certainly doesn’t hunt. She doesn’t enjoy being out on the mountain exploring nature. She prefers to explore human nature—after nine in the morning.
So, what the hell is she doing up before dawn?
It wouldn’t do any good to go up there. Raven isn’t going to tell me anything if I try to question her about her unusual behavior, but I can’t bring myself to put the truck back into drive and move on down Main Street.
Despite having no goddamn reason to, I sit in front of her place and watch her shadow move around behind the drawn curtains for a few more moments.
When the light flicks off, I sit up straighter.
A few seconds later, the door next to the bakery entrance that leads up a narrow set of stairs to her apartment flies open and Raven hustles out, her long, blond hair loose today and flowing behind her, computer bag over her shoulder.
Dressed in a pair of skin-tight dark jeans, her typical black combat boots, and a white t-shirt, she doesn’t look any different than she does on any typical day.
Until she anxiously looks up and down the street, as if she’s expecting to find someone waiting for her or a threat that she might have to face on pre-dawn Main Street.
I narrow my gaze on her, slinking down in my seat so she hopefully won’t notice me. “Why do you look so nervous?”
Raven chews on the corner of her bottom lip, scans downtown McBride Mountain another time, then darts around the corner toward the back of the building where she keeps her car parked.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry, Perry?”
That little bit of suspicion I had quickly grows to a pit of unease in my gut.
I throw the truck back into drive and wait, and sure enough, not even two minutes later, her car pulls around and turns down Main Street in the direction of the way south out of town.
“Where the hell are you going?”
Fuck.
I’m the last person who should be chasing after Raven Perry to make sure she doesn’t get herself into the type of trouble she seems to be a magnet for, but there isn’t anyone else to call.
In two minutes, she’ll be out of town and out of reach…
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I keep my headlights off so that she hopefully won’t notice me and wait a few minutes before I pull out after her to put some space between us.
On the narrow, often desolate mountain highway that leads from McBride Mountain south, she’s sure to notice my truck and recognize it if I stick too close, but I can’t hang so far behind that I lose her, either.
The possibility of just flashing my lights at her and getting her to pull over, confronting her, and forcing her to come clean crosses my mind. But I know damn well that Raven won’t tell me what she’s really up to.
There is only one way to figure out why Raven is being so secretive…
And that’s to follow her to the end of wherever this drive leads.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and whatever she’s up to this morning will have her distracted enough that she won’t even check who is in her rearview mirror.
I glance at the clock as we leave the last buildings of town behind us.
4:58.
It’s not even five a.m., and Raven has already gotten under my skin and fucked my entire day.
Maybe it’s just another excuse to avoid Killian at work, or maybe it’s because I want to protect Willow from any hurt that might come to her friend, but for some reason, I stay behind her.
For miles, and miles, and miles, and miles, and miles…
The sun starts to rise, the pinks and oranges glowing across the eastern horizon as Raven finally turns onto the freeway and points her car south on the 85.
Toward Atlanta…
Who the fuck would she be going to see there?
Now that we’re on the highway, I can put several vehicles between us while maintaining an eye on her. If she realizes I am following her, not only won’t I get answers for Willow, but I’ll also have to deal with a very pissed off Raven.
She doesn’t want me anywhere near her or her business, and if she’s hiding something from her best friend, she certainly won’t want me knowing about it.
So why are you still following her?
I ask myself that question over and over again as the hours tick away along with the miles until the skyline of Atlanta appears in the distance.
Raven hasn’t made any stops—not even for gas, snacks, or a bathroom break. Wherever she’s going, whoever she’s meeting with, she’s a woman on a mission.
That causes the hard pit of dread in my stomach to grow.
By the time she finally exits the freeway and pulls into a residential neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, my jaw hurts from clenching it so tightly for so long.
Whatever this is…it can’t be anything good.
Not with the lies.
Not with the secrecy.
She slows and parks her car at the curb in front of a row of single-story ranch-style houses, and I pull to the curb several houses down from her and wait.
A few moments later, she climbs out, grabs her bag, and scans the street up and down, as if she’s expecting trouble.
The only trouble I see is that woman.
My stomach roils as Raven hustles up the driveway of the house she parked in front of, then rings the doorbell, again searching around her as if she’s expecting someone to jump out of the bushes or come barreling down the street at her.
From my angle, I can’t see who answers the door, but my grip on the steering wheel tightens, my hackles rising as she disappears inside.
Who the fuck is she meeting with?
Raven spends most of her time writing her little community stories and occasionally having an article about something random she’s latched onto picked up by a large publication.
But this doesn’t seem like another story about women’s pay rates, the proliferation of AI in journalism, or whether pineapple belongs on pizza…
None of her typical focuses would cause her to be this nervous or secretive.
I pull out my phone and Google the address she went into, but all that comes back with is an LLC name. No other owner listed.
If that isn’t suspicious as fuck…
Of course, people put land and properties into trusts and other corporate structures all the time for completely legitimate reasons, but combined with Raven’s behavior, it feels an awful lot like whoever she’s meeting with doesn’t want to be identified.
I grit my jaw, toss my phone in the cup holder, cross my arms over my chest, and wait.
There’s nothing else I can do now short of walking up to that house, ringing the bell, and hoping whoever is inside with her isn’t so spooked by my arrival that I end up on the business side of a firearm.
Honestly, I’m more worried about Raven’s response than anything else.
She’s unpredictable in the worst way—except in her reactions to my presence.
Intervening when I’m not sure she needs any help isn’t going to get me answers. Unless there is some sign that she’s in trouble, I have to hang back and bide my time until I can confront her.
She has to come out sooner or later.
RAVEN
By the time I finish my drive back to McBride Mountain, I’m shaking so badly that only clinging to the wheel in a death grip seems to keep me from completely losing it.