Chapter 18 #2
Sean lowered the heat under the pan, turned from the stove, and leaned back against the counter. “As fucked up as things got at your apartment last night, I’m looking at it as a good thing.”
“How do you figure?” she asked.
“At least now they know you don’t have it.”
Kiera threw her arms up in exasperation. “They already knew I didn’t have it. It was stolen out of my car.”
“They might have figured—you being your brother’s sister—that you concocted a scheme where you staged the whole scene with your car but kept the cash for yourself at home.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the you being your brother’s sister bit, so Sean kept talking to keep her from going on a tear about it.
“After that guy tossed your place, he likely called his crew to make a report. Now, they know you don’t have it.”
“But they still know it’s my fault it’s missing,” she said. “They’re still pissed. Maybe I should at least try to find that bag. Even if it’s empty, they’ll be glad I put in the effort. That’ll count for something with my brother, and no one will hurt him.”
Sean couldn’t help it. He stared at her, unblinking, trying to discern if she truly believed any of that shit or whether she was trying to talk herself into a fantasy world where criminals were reasonable and awarded an “A” for effort.
When Kiera just stared back, waiting for his reply, he realized it was the latter.
“What they know,” he said slowly and firmly, “is that if they mess with you—any of you women—it’ll be the last thing they do. If they want to find that bag, they’re going to have to do it without you. They never should have involved you in the first place.”
“Got it,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. At least not about giving up on the bag.
“Now, flip on the coffee pot,” he said. “Breakfast will be ready in five.”
After cleaning up the breakfast dishes, they left the cabin for their walk, Kiera still in the same clothes but wearing the coat.
The late October air was sharp, and the sun hadn’t risen high enough to burn the frost off the trees’ smallest twigs. It gave the impression of a forest gilded in silver.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Kiera said, her breath condensing in the air.
Sean smiled, eager to show her more. “You should have seen it a month ago. The colors were amazing.”
“I can imagine.”
“Follow me.” He led her out of his clearing and onto the path he’d cut and groomed himself. It serpentined through the forest, making odd zigs and zags so as not to interfere with any young saplings still trying to set their roots.
“There’s a creek up ahead,” he said. “Can you hear it?”
“No.” She frowned, crinkling her forehead. “Can you?”
“Yeah. My hearing’s not as good as a berserker’s or a hell hound’s, but I’ve still got a good range. We can head that way.”
The path forked, and they went right, walking single file through the narrow parts. Kiera hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans for balance, but when the path widened again, he reached back, took her hand and pulled her up alongside him.
She tripped a couple of steps, her boots not being the type made for hiking, then hit her stride.
A minute later, she exclaimed, “Oh! I hear the creek now.”
Sean kissed her temple, pleased with her enthusiasm. “It’s around the next bend.”
They made the turn, and the view opened before them. A creek, about calf-deep and fifteen feet across, trickled over the rocks.
“How pretty!” she cried.
“The water’s a lot higher in the spring after the snow melts.”
“It’s still pretty this time of year,” she said, as if he needed convincing. He loved it out here.
“Pretty,” he said, “and ice cold. So don’t get too close and slide in.”
“Where does it lead?” Excitement rose in her voice, and her cheeks flushed.
“Ultimately?” He glanced to his right. “To a small lake about a half mile downstream.”
“I want to see.” She took off down the path, following the creek bed.
Sean didn’t immediately follow. He stood stock still, watching her go, loving the way her red-gold hair glinted in the bits of sunlight that made its way through the bare branches.
She was so stunningly beautiful, she could have easily been mistaken for a fae. Even one of the Sidhe—the high fae who’d never stooped so “low” as to assimilate with the human race.
The thought almost made him laugh because, he may have been the so-called mythological one, but it was Kiera who was so unbelievable.
He respected her empathy for her friends, and the way she’d even worried about his feelings, apologizing for getting mad at him when he’d deserved her outrage.
What he didn’t like was how Kiera’s empathy and concern extended to her brother, who’d done nothing to deserve any of her grace. Far from it.
Another minute had passed before Sean realized he’d been standing still for too long—a bad habit for tree nymphs and one with potentially fatal consequences.
He took off in the direction she’d gone and rounded the bend. But she wasn’t there.
“Kiera!” he called, glancing away from the creek and into the woods. But she didn’t answer. “Kiera!”
He picked up the pace, quickly covering another twenty yards of rugged terrain, but he still couldn’t find her. How long had he been standing still that she could have covered so much ground? He’d thought it had only been a couple of minutes.
He ran at breakneck speed, dodging trees and rocks, leaping over fallen logs, following the creek, listening.
“Kiera!” His voice bounced off the tree trunks and echoed back to his ears. “Where are you?”
“Sean!”
He skidded to a stop, and his stomach clenched. “Shit. Kiera! Where are you?”
“Sean!” she cried again, sounding panicked, her voice coming from somewhere up ahead. “I’m stuck!”
Stuck? Stuck in what?
He started running again, closing the gap between them. But with every step, his heart grew heavy with dread.