Chapter 6 #3
She’s never truly fit in here the way the rest of us do.
Something about her always just seemed bigger than McBride Mountain and what it has to offer.
Part of me thinks the only reason she stayed after we graduated was because she knew Willow would never leave, and she didn’t bail when Willow “left” because she always thought she’d come back.
Now, I can’t imagine Raven ever leaving Willow’s side again.
Unless someone forces it.
“Just try not to stomp so much. They don’t care if you’re pissed at me.”
“You don’t either, apparently.”
I chuckle low, continuing to pick my way over fallen logs and around massive trunks in the darkness. “Why would I? You’re always pissed at me. This is your constant state.”
She releases a sigh. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s not?”
“No. Not when you’re always pissed at me, too. That’s a little hypocritical, isn’t it?”
I snort and keep walking, and soon, we step through the treeline and out into the clearing beside the river. The rushing sound of the rapids where we found Willow fills the still night air, and Raven suddenly quiets.
When I glance back at her, she’s staring at the rushing water.
Moonlight reflects off it, creating a silver scar across the small valley we stand in.
“Is this where you found her?”
I nod and point to the spot in the river where Killian dragged her out. “He found her right there.”
She swallows thickly, then squeezes her eyes closed, her hands tensing around the straps of her bags. “You know, I’ve never been up here…”
“I know.”
During the search for anything that might have told us what happened to Willow during that year, Raven preferred to stay in town, gathering her information from the search team members when they returned to civilization and helping try to track down any traces of her best friend through the very specific channels she has as a reporter.
She scans the water and the churning rapids. “She survived that?”
I nod. “And a lot more.”
There isn’t any need to expand on that.
We both know exactly what Willow suffered during her time away from us.
She nods slowly and I set off again, expecting her to follow me across the clearing and into the trees on the other side.
Because, for all the annoying things Raven is, she’s also smart enough to know that she’d never survive alone up here and she better stick close to me if she wants any chance of it.
We hike along in silence for a few miles, the terrain becoming steeper and harder to pass, but I can feel her need to say something like a physical hand reaching out from behind me.
Another minute passes before she finally cracks.
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Does it matter?”
An annoyed sigh floats to me several yards ahead of her. “I guess at this point, no.” She keeps trudging along, not stomping nearly as heavily as before but struggling with the terrain enough that I have to slow way down to avoid losing her. “How much farther?”
“A while.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means a while.”
There’s no way I’ll tell her how far we really have to go tonight.
Raven would drop to the ground and give up just hearing how many miles lie ahead of us up the steepest and most treacherous part of McBride Mountain.
It’s the part of the mountain no one has ever lived on because surviving up there is nearly impossible, especially in the winter.
“I’d be able to move a lot faster if you weren’t with me.”
She scoffs. “Well, that was your choice, buddy, not mine.”
“I don’t really think I had a choice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Fuck.
“Nevermind.”
I try to block her out, attempt to pretend she’s not there as we keep hiking, as my boots move over the familiar terrain.
The path wouldn’t be visible to anyone else, because I’ve been careful to avoid leaving an obvious one to follow, but I know this part of the mountain even better than my brothers.
Time ticks away, the moon moving across the horizon, peeking in through the canopy to light our way at times, and others, completely hidden until it’s almost pitch black.
Raven stumbles behind me, releasing a frustrated groan and cursing me a thousand different ways under her breath. “Don’t you have a flashlight or something?”
“Of course.”
She growls. “So, why the hell aren’t we using it?”
“Because I don’t need it.”
“What about me?”
“You’re following my path.” I don’t bother looking back to make sure she still is. “You’re fine.”
She huffs again. “Nothing about this is fine, Connor.”
I would love to argue with her about that. It’s genuinely the only thing Raven and I ever do—butt heads and get under each other’s skin. But this time, she isn’t wrong about the situation we find ourselves in. She’s just wrong in directing her anger over it at me.
“You’re right, it isn’t, but you brought this on yourself, Raven.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
Her voice comes from farther away this time.
I hadn’t even realized I had picked up my pace, probably in a subconscious desire to get away from this frustrating woman.
“You could write stories about anything, about anyone, and you chose the one thing that was off limits. The one set of people who could cause us the most damage became your sole focus, damn the consequences. So, forgive me if I don’t have any sympathy for you or your current plight.”
None at fucking all.
“You really are an asshole, Connor McBride.”
Ditto, Raven Perry.