Chapter 3 #2
Liam tied the trash bag to his pack. Whoever these people were, they’d moved fast, and they hadn’t wanted to be found.
So much for hoping they were just lost hikers.
Reckless kids couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t about the rules—the desert was unforgiving, and so was the canyon.
Liam refused to let these kids live with regrets from not respecting the dangers that came with this land.
He started back up the trail toward his rope. Old Liam would have rappelled faster, reckless but efficient. Old Liam might have arrived in time to talk to them, gotten the job done.
Old Liam wouldn’t have let Nimue disappear into the crowd today without getting her number.
He started the hike back up toward his rope.
Somehow, he needed to find old Liam again.
Until then, he’d do what he could to keep others from living with regrets.
If he had his way, there would be zero casualties this summer.
Which meant he needed to find these kids—they were a disaster waiting to happen.
Not on his watch.
This was exactly why she needed to be parked at the edge of the canyon and not buried under the canopy of trees. But after her encounter with Ranger Liam yesterday morning, she needed to stay away from curious eyes a few days more.
Nimue gripped the handlebars of her electric bike, the motor’s hum vibrating through her hands as she navigated toward an open clearing about five miles north of the rim.
Two days in hiding, and it only told her how cut off she was.
Emberly had tried to contact her again, but her signal had been too weak for a call—just the text made it through.
Why would Emberly risk contact for the second time in a week unless something was wrong—really wrong?
Nimue’s pulse hammered against her eardrums. Lord, keep Emberly safe.
Nimue didn’t pray enough lately, but maybe it was because she was too busy not dying.
When the clearing provided a wide enough sky, Nimue dismounted and quickly retrieved her satellite gear from her backpack—a mini foldable dish she’d rigged herself.
It wasn’t Big Bertha, but it would have to do.
She set up the dish and the signal flickered, weak but steady—just enough to make the connection.
She punched in the encrypted code, trying not to hold her breath as she waited for the line to connect.
“Nim?” Emberly’s voice held concern.
“I got your message. What’s going on?”
“Me? What’s going on with you?” Emberly shot back. “Who’s Liam?”
Nimue froze, her grip on the receiver. “What are you talking about?”
Her sister’s sigh echoed over the line. “There’s a viral video making the rounds. Liam Kingsley, some ranger at the North Rim, rescuing a little girl a couple days ago. Sound familiar?”
Her stomach dropped. “I know about it, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Someone made a stitch with it.” Emberly’s voice was tight.
“They’ve edited in footage of Liam with that kid, plus some other clip of you two with a different kid, then a clip of you two walking away together with your hand on his arm.
It’s crystal clear, Nimue—your face, front and center. They’re calling you his girlfriend.”
Ice flooded Nimue’s veins. She’d been so careful. And now this? A viral video was a billboard screaming her location to the Bratva—neon lights and all.
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
“Too late. I’m already pacing. Nimue, listen to me.” Emberly’s tone carried that commanding edge that had kept her alive through a dozen Black Swan missions. “Even if you kill the post, it’s out there. Copies, screenshots, shares—it’s not going away.”
“I’ll be on the road in an hour.”
“What about Liam?”
“What about him?” The ranger’s blue eyes flashed through her memory unbidden. “I only met him once.”
“They’ve tied you to him. His ‘girlfriend.’ You’ve dragged him into this mess, and these people? They’re ruthless. They don’t care about truth. They’ll hurt him to get to you, and they won’t care if an innocent man dies because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“No.” The word ripped from her throat. “I’ll scrub it from the internet and keep moving. He’ll be fine. I’m not pulling anyone else in. I’ll be in touch.” She ended the call before Emberly could argue, her sister’s words echoing in her head.
She shoved the satellite gear back into her backpack and turned her e-bike toward the village, mind racing through her options.
She couldn’t use her own setup to find the source and delete it—not now, not with the bus tucked away and time bleeding through her fingers.
Moving it to get a signal would take too long, and if the Bratva were closing in, she couldn’t risk leaving more digital breadcrumbs.
The village’s main-office computer was her best shot—a public system, anonymous enough if she played it right.
She stopped the bike a quarter mile out and secured it to a bike rack at a trailhead. Grabbing her backpack, she tugged her cap low, tilting her head to dodge the cameras. She shuffled her steps and slouched her shoulders—an oblivious camper, nothing more.
The parking lot sat nearly empty as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. With any luck, most of the staff had clocked out.
A large black-and-white Closed sign faced out in the window of the main-office door. Nimue gave a quick search of the area, then twisted the handle. It popped right open. She loved naive, trusting people. Another sweeping glance around, then she slipped inside the main office.
The door creaked faintly on its hinges. She scanned the hall—empty. She moved quickly, her Vans silent on the Berber carpet.
She paused at the first office with the light off, hand testing the knob—unlocked.
A small stroke of luck. Ducking inside, she locked the door behind her with a soft click and took a moment to assess the room.
The desk sat under a disaster zone of papers and coffee rings staining the wood.
A clunky desktop PC hummed in the corner, its fan whirring softly.
She slid into the chair, fingers already moving over the keyboard.
The password was laughably simple—admin123—and she was in within seconds.
The screen flickered but stayed. Not quite the setup she was used to.
She opened a browser and navigated to Instagram.
There it was: the video, racking up views by the minute, each new one a knife to her safety.
Her face stared back at her, unmistakable, spliced alongside Liam’s broad shoulders and a photo from that rescue. The footage wasn’t nearly as good as what she had from her cameras. Text flashed across the video: “Sorry, ladies. Looks like Ranger Hero is not so single after all.”
Oh brother.
She hacked the account in moments. With a few keystrokes, she deleted the post, watching it vanish from the feed.
But she didn’t stop there. She sent a fake policy violation notice to the poster, crafting it to look official, hoping to deter them from reposting.
Then she scoured the platform, searching for copies, reposts, anything that might have spread.
She deleted them one by one, until every search came up empty.
With luck, the posters would drop it without further inquiry.
She then wiped the browser history, clearing the cache and resetting the desk to its original state—papers slightly askew, just as she’d found them. She pulled her cap low again and slipped out the door.
Well, that was easy.
She was three steps from the exit when the main-office door swung open.
Wouldn’t you know it, Ranger Liam stepped through, his presence filling the hallway.
She froze.
His blue eyes locked onto hers, recognition flashing instant and bright.
He stopped, crossing his arms over his wide chest, his stance blocking her escape route.
The ranger uniform—khaki shirt, cargo pants—only emphasized his solid build, and the way he looked at her, steady and unyielding, sent electricity down her spine.
Run! The voice inside screamed at her. Maybe she had enough of Emberly in her to try to bowl past him—
“You.”
Oh boy. See, she clearly wasn’t one of those sneaky Black Swans because she simply couldn’t move.
“Somehow, I don’t buy that you’re lost.”
At this moment? Very, very lost because her mind turned blank.
And then Emberly’s warning flashed into her brain. They’ll hurt him to get to you, and they won’t care if an innocent man dies because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Emberly was right. The Bratva wouldn’t hesitate to use him as leverage, to hurt him to get to her.
Nimue couldn’t undo the video, couldn’t unpaint the target on his back.
But what could she do? The more she told him, the more danger she put him in.
But with the set of his jaw and the way his blue eyes were narrowing—like he could peel back her lies layer by layer—Nimue suspected he wasn’t the type to fool easily.
Her mouth went dry, mind spinning for an escape route. “I’m not lost. I was…looking for you.”
His brows lifted. That bought her about thirty seconds.
Now what?
The door creaked softly as it swung open behind Liam, and another ranger stepped into the hallway.
He was shorter than Liam by a few inches, with a stockier build, his auburn hair flopping into his eyes as he brushed past, seemingly oblivious to her presence.
His uniform was rumpled like he’d been wrestling with sagebrush all day, and his boots left faint traces of red canyon dust on the floor.
“I asked around.” The new ranger’s voice carried the weight of frustration. “Nobody’s got anything new on those teens camped below the rim. It’s like they vanished into thin air.”
Liam nodded at the other guy, but his blue eyes flicked back to Nimue just long enough to communicate that he wasn’t done with her. He’d no doubt start firing questions the second this ranger walked away—questions she couldn’t answer. She needed to redirect the conversation, and fast.
“Teens camped below the rim? I saw them. In fact, that’s why I’m here.” Both rangers’ eyes snapped to her. “To report them.”
The shorter ranger—Teague, she assumed, based on the name patch on his uniform—seemed to notice her for the first time.
His brow furrowed as he studied her, dark eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you know?”
“Not much, but I did see them.” She needed to give them just enough to keep them engaged, but not so much that she’d entangle herself further.
Teague stepped closer, frowning. “You got any info on them? A good look at any of their faces maybe?”
“Better than that.” She shot Liam a quick glance, gauging his reaction before turning her attention back to Teague. “I have photos.”
Liam uncrossed his arms, his posture relaxing slightly. “You took their picture?”
Of course she had. Nimue had run facial recognition on every one of them—a precaution to ensure they weren’t a threat.
They hadn’t looked like Bratva, but she wasn’t taking any chances with someone that close to her home base.
Turned out they were just entitled rich kids from wealthy families, likely out here on a reckless adventure celebrating the start of their summer.
But she didn’t need to share all that. Not now, not with Liam and Teague watching her.
Liam held out his hand. “Can we see them?”
Right. They assumed the photos were on her phone—because that’s where they’d be for the average hiker. But she’d taken them with her long lens Canon Mark IV with her 800mm telephoto. That would bring more questions. “They’re on my iPad at my trailer.”
Some people took photos on their iPad. Like eighty-year-olds. And by the looks on Teague’s and Liam’s faces, they were thinking the same thing.
Teague took another step toward her. “I can follow you right now if—”
“Sorry, I’m on my way out.” Nimue raised a hand to stop him. “But I can bring them back here tomorrow. Does that work?”
Liam’s eyes were still fixed on her, though there was a flicker of curiosity in them now. “Tomorrow works,” he said. “We need to see them—those kids are in danger if they camp there again.”
Right. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Teague gave a curt nod, already turning back toward the main area, his mind clearly on the teens.
Liam’s eyes lingered on her a moment longer. “Where are you camped?”
Oh. Um. Shoot!
“Oh, you know. The…uh, North Rim, uh, campground.”
His mouth tightened. “Okay.”
Just act natural. She walked past Liam, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the cool evening air, the sky now streaked with the deep purples and oranges of dusk.
But unfortunately, Liam was a few steps behind. “So, why were you really—”
“Liam.” Teague smacked his friend on the shoulder as he passed. “Let the pretty girl get back to her site and come to dinner with me.”
He looked ready to say something else, but instead he just nodded at her. “Tomorrow, then.”
And she had no doubt he planned on finishing that question tomorrow. She turned away from him and navigated the quiet village toward her hidden bike. The faint buzz of crickets filled the silence as she kept her pace casual.
Don’t run. Don’t—
She’d bought herself a day, maybe. And by tomorrow, she’d be gone—
Aw. And then his comment sat in her gut. Kids in danger.
She needed to deliver the photos and then she could leave.
She reached her bike, got on, and headed back into the dusky shadows. She needed to retrieve her sat equipment before she went anywhere.
But the sense that maybe it didn’t matter followed her.
She was tired of hiding. She knew that the Caleb Group, via Emberly, was doing all it could, but maybe it wasn’t enough. Nimue had found Teresa once—she could find her again. Because she’d never truly be free until Teresa was captured.
And the bounty on her head was canceled.
Maybe it was time to stop playing cat and mouse.
Maybe it was time for her to go on the hunt.