Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The Apartment
Archer’s words resounded through my heart long after he departed.
But he needs you. Maybe more than you need him.
Brooks had done everything he could to put his past behind him. He’d taken the fall for a biker brother and severed his and Archer’s ties to the MC.
He’d dissolved his relationship with Gina a year ago. Long before he’d met me.
Why though? Had she asked for that? Or had he initiated it because he was truly determined to wrap up that part of his life, never to examine it ever again?
I tried to think about what it must be like, to live with those kinds of memories. To be haunted by them at night, plagued with them during the day. Did he have random flashes of his past—like the kind of post-traumatic stress disorder where a face appeared before his eyes?
I twirled the engagement ring around my finger as I thought.
And then my eyes went to the stone in the center. A symbol of the promise Brooks had made me for our life together.
But how was I supposed to handle this? Was it possible to compartmentalize it the way he had?
What if I’d never known this about him? Would I truly be happier? There was no way to answer that now because I did know.
I knew his darkness, his ugliness, his outlaw, criminal past.
My hands splayed across my belly. If Muddy was right—if I was pregnant—I would be forever tied to Brooks. Our baby would have half his DNA.
Was Brooks a killer?
In a world of black and white, yes.
But the world isn’t black and white. It’s gray, and we all live in one of its shades. Some, darker than others.
The way Brooks had been living his life with rigid control . . . was that his version of self-flagellation?
Dawn slithered through the curtains.
I looked at the window, wondering if he’d been awake the whole night, too.
I ached for him. Ached to feel his lips on mine, his body sliding into mine, making us one.
Making us whole.
Because like it or not, Brooks was the other half of my heart.
And his past made him who he was today.
He’d seen beneath the surface of my own hindrances and insecurities, and he loved me anyway.
Fully. Completely. Without reservation.
What would it say about me if I couldn’t love him back the way he deserved?
Who was I to judge the man he used to be?
It had been another chapter, a chapter written without me. What chapters could we write together?
I pulled myself out of bed and brushed my teeth. I splashed cool water to my burning eyes.
Numbness spread through my body, but my heart was a steady, rhythmic beat.
I absentmindedly grabbed my keys and phone and left the apartment.
The drive was quiet. There was hardly any traffic on the road because of the early hour. I drove on mental autopilot and parked along the unpaved forest road in a makeshift parking lot people used to access the trailhead. I opened the car door and took a deep breath. Cool air filled my lungs.
One of Brooks’ flannel shirts was in the back seat, and I quickly pulled it on. It smelled like lanolin, and him.
My heart cried with need.
But I wasn’t quite ready to face him. I was afraid if I saw him now, I’d collapse into his arms and beg him never to speak of his time before me again.
Beg him to bury it forever. But if we did that it would lie there between us, a corpse of the past that would never fully decay.
And years from now we would unearth it and wish we’d given it a proper burial when we were young and had our entire future ahead of us.
No. Better to exorcise it now while it’s still fresh. That’s the only chance we have to cling to every bit of happiness that’s on the horizon.
I climbed out of the car and headed along the worn path that Brooks had brought me to not that long ago.
I refused to be like my parents. At every inconvenience or hardship, one of them would decide to bow out until they were ready to come back and face reality.
And they always did come back, but they left first. Left each other.
I never wanted Brooks to leave me. And I never wanted to leave him again.
So, here I was, walking the path toward Prospector’s Peak. And I wouldn’t come down from the mountain until I was sure that I was strong enough to face him.
I just needed a few more moments to myself to process it all. To talk to the baby in my belly.
I kicked at loose gravel as I walked, lost in thoughts of the future.
Maybe that was why I didn’t notice the drop in temperature. Or the snapping of a branch behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and was no longer able to see the path more than fifty feet away because gray mist had rolled in.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, spiking my adrenaline.
I wasn’t alone.
My heart hammered in my ears and the acrid stench of my own fear hit my nostrils.
I froze, my eyes scanning the area, but I saw nothing. I had no idea if there was one or many of whatever was hunting me.
My hand went to my belt loop, but my fingers grasped only my keys. The mace that was usually on my key ring wasn’t there.
And then its head appeared through the haze, poking out from the side of a tree.
Whiskers.
Eyes the color of petrified amber.
Tawny fur.
Mountain lion.
I retreated slowly.
Terror clogged my throat and iced my blood.
The night I met Brooks, he’d mentioned something about mountain lions . . .
Running would set off the prey instinct of the massive cat. The only chance I had to survive was to be calm but forceful and let it know I saw it. I held out my hands above my head to appear as large as I could.
“No! Go away! No!” I boomed.
I desperately tried to stop the tree branches from scraping my face as I backed away from the cat, shouting for it to leave. I had no idea if I was still on the path.
Wild animals were equipped to survive the elements in a way human beings were not.
And I still had nothing to defend myself.
My cheek stung as a branch struck me, and I pivoted. I could no longer see the beast. I had to get out of the forest, but with each step the thicket grew denser as I clawed my way through the thick brush.
I lost my glasses in the struggle and didn’t stop to search for them. My vision was blurred, and along with the fog, I couldn’t trust my sight.
There was a hissing noise behind me, and I knew the mountain lion was close.
Despite trying to remain calm, a cry of fear escaped my lips.
With a surge of determination, I lurched forward. I sprinted only a few feet before a decaying piece of plywood collapsed beneath me.
I was falling . . .
Falling . . .
Falling . . .
Heart in my throat, I hit the ground with a heavy thud and landed on my side.
I glanced above me at the dim light now shining through the hole I’d just tumbled through, and then everything went black.