Chapter 12 Hunter
HUNTER
The cabin is too quiet—and not in a peaceful way, just empty.
Like someone had taken the warmth and opened a window, letting it all escape a bit at a time.
Sierra hasn’t said another word after slamming the door behind her hours ago.
She hasn’t stormed off, hasn’t packed—there was nowhere for her to go.
But the distance between us now was worse than if she’d left altogether.
I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the wooden floor. I have no idea what to do—how to apologize, how to move on. I cut her deep, which, at the time, had been my intention. I wanted her to move on from me before I became even more invested.
Fuck it—before I fell even more in love.
I drag a hand down my face, my chest tightening in that awful, familiar way. The same way it had felt the day Jake was killed. The same way it had felt standing at the edge of that desert runway, watching a coffin get loaded without saying goodbye—and knowing it was my fault.
But this wasn’t war.
This was worse.
Because I’m the one who pulled the trigger this time. I’m the one who’s walking away from something good, something real, just to avoid feeling the hope that she’d say it back—or the despair if she doesn’t.
I sit here on the bed where I’d had her laid out before me just a few short hours ago. Where we’d laughed, cuddled, slept. Everything in this room still smelled like her—sweet, warm—and I wanted to hold onto it with everything in me.
But could I? I didn’t deserve anything she gave me, and if she were smart, she’d run from me. But I wanted to show her how good I could be for her. I wanted her to know I cared.
“I do care,” I mutter into the silence. “God help me, I care too damn much.”
And I realize that’s the problem. I care and just because some things had gone wrong didn’t mean I could’ve changed them. I can almost hear Jake telling me not to get stuck in this way of thinking. That fear was only as strong as I let it be. That I could rise above it any time I chose to.
Sierra could help me rise. But if I let her walk away without talking this out, it would be the next great loss in my life—and I couldn’t let that happen.
I stand, heart hammering, breath steady as the decision settles into my bones.
I’ve been running from any kind of connection for years. It was time to run toward something for once.
And I was going to start with her.