Chapter 8
The clang of metal against metal rings out sharply in the cavernous garage as I toss another coiled length of rappelling rope into the supply bin with more force than necessary. Gritting my teeth, I snatch up a bundle of carabiners and start methodically clipping and unclipping them, the rhythmic motions usually so soothing now grating on my raw nerves.
I should”ve known better than to think mindlessly inventorying gear would be enough of a distraction. Every tool, every piece of lifesaving equipment I touch, is all an inescapable reminder of why I”m in this emotional hellscape to begin with.
My single-minded need to mitigate risk. To safeguard at all costs, even if it means stripping someone of their autonomy in the process.
The memory of the devastated look on Bonnie”s face as she stormed away plays on an anguished loop in my mind”s eye. The shattered light in those warm brown depths, the angry slash of her brows as she hurled those brutal parting words at me...
”Someone looks like they”re still nursing an epic hangover from that rescue op last night,” Stylz”s jovial voice suddenly rings out. He”s striding into the garage alongside Wyatt Croft, the pair”s boisterous laughter echoing off the bare walls.
They”re both flushed and grinning from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with the thrill of whatever mountain escapade they”ve clearly just returned from. Stylz is still dusting off bits of rock chalk from his palms.
”Hell of a climb, eh brother? That multi-pitch had me questioning a few of my life choices for sure!”
Wyatt laughs. ”Like you”ve ever had the good sense to second guess one of your crazy stunts. Ain”t that right, boss?”
I can only shake my head, a muscle ticking in my jaw as I take in their sweaty, disheveled appearances.
”You two are certifiable, pulling a stunt like that on Razor Ridge at this time of year,” I growl, eyes narrowing. ”That whole section is a deathtrap waiting to happen in these conditions.”
Wyatt waves a calloused hand, completely unbothered by my disapproval. ”Aw, c”mon, Garrett. What happened to that daredevil kid who showed no fear when it came to bagging the gnarliest routes?”
Stylz chimes in, ”Yeah, we were talking mad shit about how you used to show us up back in the day. We were both just glad you weren”t around this time to make us look like a couple of rank amateurs again. Although I gotta say, sticking that crux move was one of the most satisfying sendssss—”
I tune out Stylz”s rambling as vivid memories suddenly flood back. The raw friction of chalky handholds scraping my palms. The dizzying adrenaline rush of clinging to a sheer rock face. That primal connection with nature and life itself.
It all comes roaring back with startling intensity. I can practically smell the tang of exertion, hear my ragged pants as I pushed through each grueling move, utterly consumed by the singular pursuit.
And with those visceral recollections, the gut-punch memory of why I walked away hits me. My dad”s lifeless face as they zipped the body bag after his fatal climbing fall. The color draining from those warm green eyes I admired.
The icy fist around my heart squeezes tighter. I was a naive, overconfident kid who thought he was invincible. That Dad”s skills would protect him from anything the mountain could dish out.
How fucking unprepared I was for that cruel twist to shatter my world forever.
In the ashes of that grief, I vowed never again. Mitigating risk and maximizing contingencies became my obsession. And in my pursuit of control, of being ten steps ahead of any danger...I lost that part of myself that craved the adrenaline. The thrill of embracing the unknown and pushing my limits.
The realization hits me hard. I”ve been so focused on preventing tragedy that I forgot what it was to truly live. To feel vibrantly alive.
And in the process, I”ve robbed that same freedom from Bonnie. Tried to contain her wildfire spirit under the guise of protection, depriving her of that spark that makes her so beautifully, infuriatingly herself. Forcing her to conform to my rules, my need for control at the expense of her passions.
What a fucking hypocrite I”ve become.
”Hey, earth to Garrett!”
I blink back into focus to find Stylz and Wyatt watching me with matching expressions of concern. Stylz”s brows furrow as he studies me intently.
”Everything okay?”
I straighten abruptly, squaring my shoulders and fixing them both with a level look. ”No, everything”s not okay.” I rake a hand through my hair, letting out a harsh exhalation. ”I”ve got something I need to take care of. Now.”
Not waiting for a response, I stride purposefully toward the back storage area, already mentally cataloging what supplies I”ll need to gather.
”Wait, what”s going on, man?” Stylz calls after me, confusion coloring his tone. ”We were just messing around. No need to—”
”This isn”t about you two jackasses,” I growl over my shoulder, already pulling down boxes of climbing gear and tossing them onto the workbench. ”It”s about me not making the same damn mistake twice.”
I”m not about to let Bonnie slip through my fingers because of my own stubborn shortcomings. My inability to embrace life in all its terrifying, wondrous uncertainty.
Not a chance in hell.
I peel out of the rescue station with a screech of tires, the big diesel crew cab truck fishtailing in the loose gravel before I manage to get it under control. Jaw clenched, I gun the accelerator, hurtling up the winding access road that will take me back to Boulder Creek Trail.
Please, let her still be there...
The roar of the engine kicks up another notch as I stomp harder on the gas, propelling us over the last rise in the trail. And there, in a gravel pull-out just off the main path, is the same car I saw Bonnie climb into not long ago. Pulling the truck in beside it, I kill the engine and practically fling myself out the door.
The familiar path winds before me, every bend and rocky outcropping as familiar as the calloused grooves in my own palms. I”ve trekked this trail more times than I can count over the years, scouting routes and leading rescue teams to pluck stranded hikers from peril.
But nothing could have prepared me for the way my pulse kicks into overdrive at the sight before me.
There, perched on that same jutting precipice where I”d pulled her sodden, half-drowned form from the raging rapids just yesterday, is Bonnie. She”s silhouetted against the breathtaking backdrop of snow-capped peaks, one knee drawn up with her chin resting atop it as she stares into the distance.
I draw in a steadying breath as I approach, my boots crunching in the loose scree. Bonnie”s head whips around at the sound, eyes widening when she registers my presence.
”Garrett? What are you doing here?”
Stopping a few paces away, I rake my gaze over her curvy frame, drinking in every detail. She”s so achingly beautiful in this light, all tousled hair and golden skin, lips slightly parted in surprise.
”I came to find you,” I say simply, letting the weight of that admission hang in the air between us.
Bonnie rises fluidly to her feet, arms folding across her chest. ”Well, you found me. Now what?”
Squaring my shoulders, I take another step closer, holding her wary gaze. ”Now, I have some things I need to say to you. And I need you to actually listen this time. No biting my head off until I”ve had my say, got it?”
A faint smirk tugs at one corner of her full lips, and I can”t resist mirroring it with a wry quirk of my own. Even when she”s all piss and vinegar, that spark of hers still has a way of igniting something primal and possessive inside me.
Drawing a fortifying breath, I plow ahead before I can lose my nerve. ”After my dad died, I had one single-minded mission—mitigating every conceivable risk, always having the contingency plan mapped out ten steps ahead.”
Bonnie”s expression shifts at that, a crease forming between her delicate brows, but I forge on.
”And at first, it felt like I was just doing my job—keeping people safe, preventing tragedies. But over time...” I trail off, shoving my hands into my pockets as a muscle ticks in my jaw. ”That mindset became more than just a professional calling. It shaped who I was at my core.”
I shake my head slowly. ”I became so consumed by controlling every possible variable, by not taking a single chance, that I lost sight of why I started down this path in the first place.”
”And what was the reason?” Bonnie prompts.
My throat works as I swallow hard, forcing the words past the lump that forms. ”To experience life. To its absolute fullest, without holding anything back. To embrace every thrill and wonder this untamed world has to offer with complete abandon.”
Her sharp inhalation at my candid admission is audible. I take another deliberate step forward, holding her gaze as I reach out to trail my fingertips along her jaw in a feather-light caress.
”You reignited that part of me I thought was long buried, Bonnie. Your passion, your lust for adventure... it”s a force of nature. Vibrant and unstoppable and so damn beautiful to witness.”
I lean in until our faces are a scant breath apart, basking in the way her pupils dilate and her lips part on a trembling exhalation.
”And I don”t want to tame that wildfire spirit, no matter how much the controlling part of me might try to resist. I want to give you the freedom to embrace every daredevil impulse, to soak up all the untamed beauty this world has to offer through your talents.”
Bonnie”s breath hitches at the intensity of my words, her eyes searching mine for any hint of deception. But she”ll find none—only raw sincerity and a bone-deep need to finally get this right.
”You make me want to live again. Gloriously and vibrantly, chasing those reckless highs without fear of falling.”
Reaching up, I cup her face in my calloused palms, holding her captive in my heated stare. ”But I need you to trust me on this—I can”t just let you take those leaps without any safeguards in place. Not because I want to control you, but because I can”t survive losing you.”
The words seem to resonate deep within her, and I can sense the fight slowly draining from her rigid posture as she melts infinitesimally into my touch.
”Let me be your safety net when you need it. A partner, not a cage.” My voice drops to a rough rasp. ”Someone who lets you embrace all of life”s terrifying, thrilling uncertainty... while making sure you”ll always make it back home to me.”