8. MASON

8

MASON

T he woods were dead silent, the only sound coming from the crunch of snow under our boots. The cold bit at my face, the wind slipping through the gaps in my jacket like icy fingers. It was the kind of cold that made your breath hang in the air, visible like a puff of smoke before it vanished into the winter chill.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything around us, while the trees stood tall and dark, their bare branches stark against the bright, white landscape.

The contrast was sharp—black tree trunks rising like skeletons against the untouched snow that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Tanner was a few paces ahead of me, his rifle slung over his shoulder as he moved quietly through the woods. He was good at this—always had been. He moved like a warrior, a hunter. He’d lived in these woods with me for a long time before he’d settled down with Rae and little Hunter.

It had been a while since we’d done this together—lately, I did it all by myself since he was Mr. Family. But today, it was like old times.

We didn’t need to speak much when we hunted together. There was an understanding between us, a kind of unspoken language built over years of surviving in places most people wouldn’t dare venture into. We didn’t need words to communicate out here. The stillness of the forest was enough.

I gripped my own rifle, a well-worn Browning X-Bolt, chambered in .308. It had been with me through a lot—more than I liked to remember. The cold metal felt familiar in my hands, like an extension of myself. It was the kind of rifle you trusted, the kind you knew would do its job when the time came. Tanner carried a Remington 700, reliable and steady, just like him.

A man’s gun said a lot about him. Everyone had a different style, a different need, and the guns showed more than a psychologist would be able to drag out of ’em.

The snow was deep, slowing us down as we moved through the woods, but the quiet was comforting. There was no noise from town, no distractions—just the soft rustle of branches and the occasional snap of a twig beneath the weight of the snow.

I preferred being out here, where I didn’t have to think about how others would react to me, where I didn’t have to think about anything other than being at one with the landscape around me.

The forest felt endless, a never-ending stretch of white, broken only by the dark trunks of the trees. The sky was a dull gray, heavy with more snow that would fall soon enough.

We’d been out for hours, tracking a pair of deer. Their prints were faint in the snow, but they were enough for us to follow.

Tanner raised his hand, signaling for me to stop. I crouched low, following his gaze through the trees.

About 100 yards ahead, just on the edge of a clearing, I spotted them—a doe and a buck, grazing on the last remnants of underbrush sticking out from the snow. Their coats blended in almost perfectly with the surroundings, but the buck’s antlers gave him away.

Tanner glanced at me, and I nodded. I slowly raised my rifle, lining up the shot. My breath steadied as I focused, the world narrowing down to just me and the deer. The rifle’s weight was familiar, solid against my shoulder. I squeezed the trigger, the crack of the gunshot ringing through the silent woods. The gun kicked against me, but I let my body absorb the impact.

The buck dropped instantly. Tanner moved quickly, his own shot taking down the doe before she had a chance to run.

Fuck, every time I killed I hated it. I would never not hate killing. But I had to eat, and this meat would get me through the rest of the winter before the snow started to melt and more animals returned to the forest.

We crept closer, making sure the kills were clean. The buck had dropped right where I’d aimed—a shot straight to the heart. Tanner grunted in approval, already pulling out the knives we would use to gut and skin the animals. It was messy work but necessary. The cold would preserve the meat while we worked.

Once the animals were field dressed, we loaded them onto a sled we’d brought with us, securing the carcasses before heading back to my cabin. The weight of the kills dragged through the snow behind us, but neither of us said a word. The woods around us remained still, but there was something about the silence today that made my skin crawl.

Back at my cabin, the fire crackled in the hearth, sending waves of heat through the room as we worked on the carcasses. Tanner and I had done this countless times before—skinning, cutting, separating the meat. It was a job that required focus, but today, my mind was somewhere else. Every time I tried to push it aside, the thought of Cami crept back in, like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tanner asked, breaking the silence as he carved a chunk of venison from the buck. He didn’t even glance up, just kept working, but I knew he was watching me closely. Tanner was like that—he missed nothing.

I grunted, focusing on the deer hide as I stretched it out to tan later. “Not much to say.”

“Bullshit,” Tanner muttered, and he glanced up at me. “You’ve been quieter than usual, which is saying something. Come on, what’s got you all tied up in knots?”

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I kept working, cutting through sinew and bone with practiced precision. But Tanner wasn’t going to let it go. He never did. I knew I would have to say something . I might as well tell him what was going on. I could trust Tanner, and I guess I had to talk about it at some point, or this shit was going to eat me up from the inside.

I let out a sigh, my shoulders tensing. “It’s Cami.”

Tanner paused, glancing up at me with raised eyebrows. “Cami? What about her?”

I set the knife down, wiping the blood from my hands before running a hand through my hair. “I nearly slept with her.”

There it was. The truth hung in the air between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Tanner didn’t say anything at first, but I could see the surprise in his eyes. He let out a low whistle, shaking his head.

“Well… fuck.”

I snorted. “Yeah, almost.”

We both chuckled at my stupid remark, but the mood shifted back to serious quickly.

“I didn’t think you were interested in anyone. I thought you like to keep your distance.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s how I usually like to play the game. Getting attached is getting hurt.”

“And Cami?”

“She’s just… different.” I suddenly regretted saying anything. Putting my feelings into words made them more real, and that scared the shit out of me. Yeah, I could take down whole teams of dangerous people with guns and bombs, but I couldn’t deal with a fucking woman.

“Different how?” Tanner pressed, his tone light but curious. “Sounds to me like you’ve got it bad.”

I shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. I groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You can joke about falling and all that shit but that’s not what’s bugging me. At least… it’s not all that’s bugging me.”

Tanner frowned. “Then what is?”

I shook my head. “Something feels off. She’s got these people coming into town, strangers I don’t recognize. Rae says it’s because of all the events Cami’s organizing, but it doesn’t sit right with me. Something’s not as it should be and I don’t like it.”

Tanner leaned back, setting down his knife. “You think they’re up to something?”

“I don’t know. But ever since she showed up, things have been changing, and it shouldn’t be that way.”

I stood up and balled my hands into fists, cracking my neck, popping my back. “Everyone’s acting like it’s fine, like because it’s Christmas we can just let our guard down. But I’ve seen what happens when you stop paying attention. Bad things happen.”

Tanner studied me without saying anything for too long.

“Do you want to weigh in, or are you just here for the talk show?” My voice was snappier than I meant for it to be, but Tanner didn’t react.

“You’re still looking over your shoulder, Mason,” he finally said. “I get it. Hell, it took me a long time to stop doing the same thing. It nearly fucked up everything with Rae. But you can’t live your life always expecting the worst.”

“You can if the worst might still be on your tail,” I shot back. “In the end, there were all kinds of bad shit that followed you and Rae, remember?”

Tanner nodded slowly, and I knew he was thinking back to the time Rae had been kidnapped and we’d worked together to get her back. He could say that looking over his shoulder was a bad thing all he wanted, but the proof was in the fucking mercenaries showing up.

And I was pretty sure the guys showing up here were up to no good.

“The past can kill you without even trying,” Tanner said carefully. “Sometimes it’s better to just let it go, to trust that it really is over.”

“Trust?” I snorted. “I don’t have that luxury. You weren’t there, Tanner. You have no idea who these people are. We were trained to never stop. And I know they’ll keep going until the job’s done. Except, instead of saving people, the job has changed for them, and it’s about taking people out now. I know I’m on that list.”

Tanner sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know your shit was very different from mine. And you’re right; there’s always something to be careful of. I don’t think you’re hiding out here, surviving the way you are, for no reason.”

He started putting the cut meat into the dishes I’d lined up for it while he talked, and I did the same. It was easier to talk when our hands were busy.

“I also know you.” Tanner kept going. “I know you’re still carrying that weight. You’ve got to let it go, man. You’ve got a chance to build a normal life here. To just be . Maybe Cami isn’t such a bad thing in your life so you can just live in the moment.”

I shook my head. The thought of Cami only made my chest tighten.

“She’s trouble. I can feel it,” I said. “And I can’t afford to let my guard down, not with these new faces in town.”

Tanner didn’t argue, just nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right. But maybe you’re wrong.” He finally looked at me, his eyes intense. “I just know that always worrying about the past is going to catch up with you and can ruin a future that might be better than you ever imagined. I know you love this life. I did, too. But do you have any idea how much living we missed out on over the years?”

I didn’t respond. I knew what he was trying to say, but it wasn’t that easy. For Tanner, it was simple. His past was over. And Rae’s past that had caught up with her had been dealt with. They had nothing to worry about, whereas the weight of my past and the uncertainty of the future nearly crushed me.

Cami stirred something inside me, something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel since I’d enlisted a whole lifetime ago. But it wasn’t just desire—there were warning bells in my head, too. And I couldn’t just ignore them.