Chapter Nine
SHELTER
Rain hammered Whip’s face hard enough to sting while another groan rolled through the timber above them.
The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once as the mountainside settled beneath tons of saturated earth. Somewhere uphill, roots shifted. Branches scraped together in the darkness. Another tree deciding whether tonight was the night it gave up and came down.
Axel finally let go.
Then stepped back.
Not much.
Just enough to put a little distance between them.
Whip noticed because he’d expected him to run.
After what had almost happened beside the SUV, he’d expected Axel to put half the mountain between them. Instead, the man stopped a foot away and stayed there. His attention shifted back toward the slope above the road, but he never moved any farther away.
Whip followed Axel’s gaze uphill.
Axel had seen it too.
The mountain wasn’t done moving.
The fallen pine still blocked both lanes. Mud continued sliding across the pavement beneath it. Every few seconds, another groan rolled through the timber, followed by the uneasy creak of trees carrying more weight than they wanted.
Lightning flashed again.
For a second, Axel stood outlined against the storm, shoulders squared toward the hillside like he was personally considering arguing with it.
The sight tugged loose a memory Whip hadn’t thought about in years. A muddy football field. Cold rain. Friday night lights reflecting off standing water while Axel Bain stared across the line of scrimmage wearing that same stubborn expression.
Different storm.
Same man.
Thunder cracked overhead hard enough to rattle the mountains.
“Vehicle.”
Whip didn’t argue.
Sheets of water hit sideways as they scrambled around the front of the SUV. By the time they climbed inside, both of them were soaked through. Water dripped from Whip’s hair onto his jacket while cold worked its way beneath every layer he had on.
Axel grabbed the handheld radio immediately.
“Grady, you copy?”
Static answered.
Nothing else.
Whip pulled out his phone and watched the signal bounce between one bar and none. The tiny icon flickered twice before disappearing completely.
No surprise there.
County Twelve was a pain in the ass on a clear day. Tonight, the storm was chewing through everything in its path, including whatever chance they had of calling for help.
Outside, lightning flashed through the timber. The pine wasn’t moving.
The SUV wasn’t either.
When he shifted in his seat, the vehicle rocked slightly against the muddy shoulder where it had buried itself during the slide.
They weren’t driving anywhere tonight.
Axel tried the radio again.
More static.
Half a voice.
Gone.
Whip stared through the windshield.
The cabin sat two miles away through dark timber and miserable terrain.
The road was finished, they couldn’t get through, and the mountain wasn’t stable.
And Cutter was still out there somewhere—he wasn’t going to stop because a storm rolled through. If he had made it to the cabin, there was no guarantee he’d stayed there.
Whip stared out the window.
The answer wasn’t complicated.
The road wasn’t opening anytime soon. The SUV wasn’t going anywhere. Cell service had disappeared. The radio wasn’t doing much better
The cabin was still there.
And they were out of options.
“Looks like we’re hiking.”
He blew out a breath and reached for his flashlight.
“Wait, you’re seriously not going out in that,” Axel growled, grabbing his arm.
“I’m not getting washed away or buried in mud in this SUV,” he said softly.
Their gazes met.
“Damn it,” Axel muttered.
He held on a second longer than needed before letting go.
Grabbing the handheld, Axel checked the battery and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
Whip climbed out into the storm and immediately regretted every life choice that had led him to this exact moment.
Rain slapped him across the face hard enough to sting. Cold water found its way down the back of his neck before he made it around the SUV.
The wind had picked up again. Pines swayed overhead, black silhouettes against a sky that flashed white every few seconds. Somewhere deeper in the timber, a tree groaned beneath the storm.
The sound lingered, long and uncomfortable. He’d heard trees make that sound before.
It never meant anything good.
Whip yanked open the cargo area and grabbed his duffel.
“One smart decision tonight,” he said.
Axel slammed the hatch beside him.
“Are there any?”
“Throwing our bags in the SUV.”
Axel snorted.
“Your standards are dropping.”
“They have to. I work with you.” Whip grinned.
Axel’s gaze lingered on him for just a second, but Whip felt it like a fucking stroke of a hand.
Their gazes locked. Axel froze for half a second, then looked away before starting toward the trail.
Whip followed close behind.
The flashlight beam jittered across gravel and standing water as they left the SUV behind. Twenty yards later, the storm swallowed the view of the road completely.
The trail climbed gradually through dense timber before bending north toward the hunting cabin.
At least that had been the plan when the trail wasn’t trying to drown itself.
Ahead of him, Axel lifted the handheld.
“Radio check.”
Static crackled through the darkness.
Nothing else.
Whip pulled out his phone. One bar flashed, then none, then one again. He thumbed out a quick text.
Road blocked. Heading to cabin.
The message sat there, waiting, spinning, and then stopped doing anything at all.
“No service.”
“Figures,” Axel grunted.
Tucking the phone away, he moved into the storm that was turning the mountains into a dead zone.
The farther they got from the road, the worse it became. Lightning flashed overhead, and for a heartbeat, the entire forest appeared in sharp relief with towering pines and blowing branches. Then darkness swallowed everything again.
Ahead, Axel stopped near a washout where runoff had carved a muddy channel across the trail.
The flashlight beam found Whip immediately. Like Axel had tied a line to him somewhere in the dark. Tracking him and making sure he saw the hazard.
Keeping him close.
The same thing Axel had done beside the SUV.
The same thing he did on every job.
“Be careful.”
Whip stepped over the washout.
“Appreciate the confidence.”
“You fell through a porch once,” Axel reminded him.
“That porch was broken.”
“Not the top step.”
“I didn’t see it,” Whip muttered.
Axel laughed, and for a second, the storm seemed farther away.
Whip followed when Axel started moving again.
Funny thing was, he couldn’t remember exactly when that had become automatic.
Not tonight. Not this case. Maybe sometime during the past year. Somewhere between long drives, motel rooms, and too many warrants to count.
At some point, he’d simply stopped imagining doing any of it without Axel beside him.
The thought arrived with enough force to pull another memory loose.
Boone had walked into the Lakeview office carrying a folder and wearing the expression he got whenever he was about to make somebody else’s day more complicated.
Whip remembered barely looking up from his paperwork. People moved through task forces all the time. Deputies. Detectives. Marshals. Most of them stayed just long enough to learn where the coffee was before disappearing again.
Then the room had gone quiet.
He’d looked up and found Axel standing beside Boone.
Boone had partnered them, and Whip hadn’t thought much of it at first, but three weeks later, he was checking the parking lot for Axel’s truck before he even poured coffee.
Ah hell.
Ahead, Axel’s flashlight cut through the darkness before swinging left.
“There.”
Whip followed the beam.
The cabin sat tucked beneath a stand of pines, little more than a dark shape fighting to exist beneath the storm. Relief tried to surface and died almost immediately. Finding the cabin and finding Cutter weren’t the same thing.
They approached the structure the same way they’d approached dozens of others during the past year. No discussion. No hesitation. Axel moved right. Whip took the porch.
The one-room cabin was empty.
Coffee grounds in the sink. A half-empty soup can beside the stove. Ashes buried beneath the top layer.
Somebody had used it recently.
“Cutter was here.”
Axel glanced toward the stove.
“Yeah.”
Wind slammed against the cabin hard enough to rattle the windows. The walls groaned. Somewhere in the darkness, a tree cracked loudly enough to be heard above the storm.
Whip pulled out his phone.
Nothing.
Axel tried the radio.
Static.
The mountain had made the decision for them.
The road wasn’t opening tonight. The SUV wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever chance they’d had of catching Cutter in the dark had disappeared somewhere between the mudslide and the hike.
Another gust rattled the cabin hard enough to make the walls creak. Damp wood and old smoke lingered in the air.
Axel crossed the room and checked the door. Rainwater still darkened his shirt. Wet hair curled slightly at his neck. The man looked like he’d just walked out of a river and somehow still had enough energy to glare at a piece of lumber.
Whip moved to close the wooden shutters on the windows.
The hunt would continue at daylight.
Tonight, they locked down the cabin and waited for the mountain to finish trying to tear itself apart.
Across the room, Axel stalked over to him, rolled out a bedroll, and made himself comfortable on the floor. Shoulder bumping his, legs stretched out, thighs wedged. Any closer and he might as well sit in his lap.
Somehow, Axel always closed the distance without seeming to notice he’d done it.
Great.