1. RAE

1

RAE

T he bus hissed to a stop, and I stood, my legs stiff from the long ride. I grabbed my worn duffel bag and shuffled down the narrow aisle, brushing past strangers who smelled of sweat and stale fast food.

I pushed my long hair out of my face—it wasn’t necessary to hide my features so much anymore. I was far enough away from danger that I could let out at least one breath.

Montana’s chilly air slapped me in the face as I stepped off the bus, and I shivered.

Right. Silver Ridge was the place I’d chosen to hide, a safe house from way back in my past. The only reason he wouldn’t find me here was that it went further back than that. It was a part of my past that Jethro hadn’t been a part of.

He would hate to know I’d had secrets from him. He was so controlling. But if I didn’t have secrets, I wouldn’t have safety.

I trudged into the small town and glanced around. I’d been here once before, in a different time, a different life.

Nothing had changed. This place was the same as it had always been: stuck in time.

God, I wished I could go back in time, too.

I wished I could have gone back to the time when things were simpler and I thought that love was enough.

Whatever. I rolled my eyes at myself and my na?veté. I should have known better, but it took me damn long to learn my lessons, apparently.

That was the definition of madness, wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.

Whispering Pines Inn loomed ahead, a rustic building with faded paint and a sign that creaked in the breeze. It had to be one of the first buildings built in this town, the kind of place that screamed small-town charm and whispered secrets.

It was the perfect place to disappear for a while.

I pushed through the heavy wooden door, a little bell jingling above me.

The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.

I glanced around, checking corners, checking waiting areas, making note of who was around and how easy it would be for me to get out of I had to.

Shit could hit the fan at any moment.

Besides a receptionist and a janitor sweeping in rhythmic motions, the inn was quiet.

The lobby smelled of pine and old books. It was a smell that made me feel at home, even when I was nothing but.

Behind the counter stood a woman with long auburn hair tied back and a calm, composed aura. Her name tag read Laura Bennett and when I approached, she looked up and smiled. “Welcome to Whispering Pines. Can I help you?”

“I need a room,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want to sound desperate. I was just a tourist, here to rest my weary bones. That’s what I needed her to believe.

“Of course,” she said and glanced at a large book. “I have a room—

“Something quiet and out of the way,” I interrupted.

Laura glanced up at me, her eyes locking on mine.

“All our rooms are quiet. We pride ourselves on the kind of rooms where you can really rest.”

“I need something… away from people.” I took a deep breath to steady myself. Laura studied my face, clearly trying to gauge me, but I kept my expressionless mask in place. I didn’t need to raise any questions, to get more attention than was normal for a traveler arriving at night.

She looked at the book again. Laura’s brow furrowed as she scanned the names. “We’re pretty full, but let me see what we have.”

I waited, my throat thick, and I fought the urge to look over my shoulder. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jethro’s icy gaze was still on me, burning into my back. Even here, miles away from everything I knew. I needed to stay hidden, to blend into the background until I could figure out my next move.

Laura finally looked up, and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“We have a few rooms left, but they’re close to each other. If you’re looking for real privacy…” She paused, glancing at me with a hint of concern.

“Please,” I said, leaning forward. “I just need something out of the way for a while.” I stared at her, willing her to give me what I needed without asking more questions. I wouldn’t be able to answer any of them. I wrapped my hands around my backpack straps. Everything that had ripped my world apart was inside.

She hesitated, then nodded. “There’s a cabin out back. It’s usually reserved for long-term guests, but it’s empty right now. You can stay there if you’d like.”

Relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I breathed. “I’ll take it.”

“I’m not going to ask what kind of trouble you’re in as long as you’re not running from the law,” Laura said before handing me the key.

“I’m not running from the law. I’m running from…” I tried to find the best way to explain it without giving anything away that could condemn me. “An ex.”

“Right,” Laura said. “Men can be dangerous. I’m going to trust you against my better judgement. There’s something about you… and I know a bit about women who need to run from a man. Just don’t let me regret this, okay?”

“Okay.”

Laura handed me the key and led me through the cozy lobby and out the back door into the crisp night air. The cabin was nestled among the trees, a quaint little structure that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. It was tucked away, and no one would guess this was a part of the inn.

That was exactly what I’d hoped for. For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.

Laura stepped into the cottage with me, leading the way. She switched on lights that cast a dim, warm glow.

“It’s not much, but it’s quiet. No one will bother you here.”

“That’s all I need,” I said, giving her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

She nodded and left, her footsteps fading away as I stepped inside the cabin. It was sparsely furnished but clean.

A bed, a small table, a chair. The basics. I dropped my bag on the floor and sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly. This was my haven, at least for now.

I closed my eyes, trying to push the memories away. Jethro’s cold eyes, the incriminating files I’d found, the realization that my life was a lie. I had to keep moving, keep hiding. If he found me… a chilly finger dragged its way down my spine, and I shivered.

The cabin was silent, the kind of quiet that city living never afforded. I opened my eyes and looked around. It was simple, but it was a start. I had to keep my head down and avoid drawing attention. Silver Ridge was my last refuge.

There had been a time in my life, long before I’d turned a new leaf and moved to the city where I’d met Jethro, when I’d been involved with a different group of people who didn’t exactly follow the rules. Silver Ridge had been one of the safe houses, one of the places where I could have hidden if something went wrong.

That was long gone—the people who would have protected me were not in my life anymore because I’d chosen to leave all that behind. I just hadn’t realized that I’d walked out of the frying pan and into the fire.

I hadn’t realized that Jethro was so much worse than anything I could ever have been involved in.

I walked to the small window and peered out at the dark forest beyond. My eyes strained for movement. I couldn’t see anything out there—the light only reached as far as the homes on the edge of town—and there could be eyes out there, watching me from the darkness.

I had to trust that I was safe here. Silver Ridge had been the safe house, and I trusted it was exactly that.

The silence all around me was both eerie and comforting. The kind of silence that whispered secrets and held its breath, waiting for more.

I let out a shuddering breath and turned away from the window. I could drive myself crazy looking for ghosts between the trees.

I just had to get a good night’s sleep; tomorrow, I would regroup—

Footsteps .

There was no doubting what I’d heard.

My heart beat in my throat, hammering double time, and I felt sick. Fear wrapped itself around me, and I kicked the backpack under the bed, where it would be harder to find.

Someone rattled on the door, and my blood ran cold.

I grabbed a small lamp from the table, holding it over my head and moved toward the door. When it opened, I held my breath, every muscle tensed. The door creaked open, and I swung, but a thick arm shot out and caught the lamp.

“What the fuck?” a gruff voice asked, and he yanked the lamp out of my hands. He lifted it above his head instead.

Damn it, I was in trouble.

But the man in front of me wasn’t Jethro. It wasn’t any of his lackeys, either.

I swallowed hard, staring at the dark hair, the hazel eyes that stared down at me, and the past slammed into me like a freight train.

“Tanner?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Rae?” His voice was rough, disbelieving.

No one had called me Rae in a long, long time.

I’d left Rae behind when I’d left the world where Tanner had been my everything and started over in a new life.

Not since the night he’d disappeared out of my life, leaving me behind without any answers, without a way to contact him, without any reason, and my heart had shattered into a million pieces. I’d been McKenna to everyone since then. I hated being called McKenna, but being called Rae had hurt too fucking much when he’d been the only one who could say my name and give me goose bumps.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His deep voice shivered over my skin.

The cabin suddenly felt suffocating, the walls closing in as Tanner stepped further inside. He was a large man, and I took an involuntary step back, wrapping my arms around myself like I could physically keep my shit together.

My mind spun, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. How was it possible that I’d fled back into the past?

“I could ask you the same question,” I snapped, my voice a lot steadier than I felt.

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the room, landing on my duffel bag with a suspicious glint.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said finally, his tone as sharp as a blade.

“Neither should you,” I clapped back.

“This isn’t your territory, Rae. You have a new life somewhere else, and you should get back to it.”

I was suddenly furious.

“What the fuck would you know about my life now?”

Tanner finally set the lamp down where it belonged. He knew this cabin, it seemed.

“It’s dangerous for you to be here, Rae,” Tanner said again. “I want you to leave.”

There it was. The words that really mattered. It wasn’t about safety. It was about that, after all this time, I was still not good enough for him.

“If you don’t want me around, then you can leave,” I said hotly. “You’re pretty good at that.”

Tanner narrowed his eyes. Damn it, those hazel eyes that drew me in, the high cheekbones, the perfectly square jaw. I still remembered how his hair had felt between my fingers when I tangled them in it. I still remembered how it felt to kiss him and how his stubble would scrape my chin.

His eyes were hard now. They didn’t look at me with love the way they used to.

All that was left was the hard, powerful shell, the cold warrior Tanner could be. The warmth I’d known before was all gone.

He clenched his jaw.

“It’s you or me, sweetheart .” The term of endearment was sarcastic.

I couldn’t tell him I had nowhere else to go. It felt like I would be conceding if I sounded desperate. But with the winter coming on so quickly, I had to find a place where I could wait it out, or I would die out there.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said with a steely voice and walked to the bed, sitting down to make my point.

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit he’d always had. He looked older, wearier, like he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Maybe he had been.

His eyes flicked to mine, and I was suddenly aware I was in a very small room, and on a bed, with a very large, very attractive man looking over me.

Tanner parted his lips, and his eyes darkened. The tension in the air shifted, and for a moment, there was something there—something hot and demanding.

Tanner cleared his throat and turned away, and the sexual tension, the memory of the past where our bodies melded together, slipped away.

When he turned his attention back to me, his eyes were hard, guarded.

A look that said he wasn’t letting anyone in, not again.

“What are you running from, Rae?” His eyes were hard, but his voice was gentle.

I swallowed hard, memories of Jethro’s twisted smile flooding back. “It’s… complicated.” I hated how weak I sounded.

“Complicated.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Everything’s always complicated with you.”

Anger flared in my chest. How dare he judge me? He was the one who had left without a word, who had disappeared from my life like a ghost. “You don’t know anything about my life, about who I am now,” I snapped, the words biting.

He stepped closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull that made me want to press my body against the length of his.

“I know enough to see that you’re in trouble,” he said, his voice low. “And trouble is the last thing I need right now.”

“Then why are you here?” I shot back, my heart pounding. “Why did you come into this cabin?”

He opened his mouth, and his eyes slid to my lips. I swayed slightly, leaning in, ready for him to… his jaw tightened, and his eyes found mine again. For a long moment, we stood there in a standoff, the air crackling with tension. His gaze burned into me.

Finally, he sighed, a sound full of frustration and resignation and stepped away, breaking the tension, the bubble.

“I stay in this cabin sometimes,” he said, his voice softer. “It’s a place to get away.”

“I can find somewhere else, then,” I said, my voice hard. I wasn’t going to share a cabin with him, that was for damn sure.

He stared at me, his eyes searching mine. I wondered if he could see the fear behind my bravado, the desperation I was trying so hard to hide.

“No,” he said finally, his voice clipped. “I have somewhere else to be. Don’t complicate my life. I have my own problems, Rae. I can’t deal with yours, too.”

With that, he turned and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him. I stood there, feeling like I was in the wake of his destruction all over again.

My heart raced, and I felt feverish.

Tanner was back.

How? Why?

It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t need this bullshit, either.

One thing was for sure—I wasn’t going to hitch my wagon to his star again.

As the sound of his footsteps faded into the night, I sank onto the bed, exhausted. I had come here to escape the city, Jethro, the hell he’d created for me, to find a place where I could breathe and think and figure out my next move. But now, with Tanner here, everything had changed.

I wasn’t just running from Jethro anymore. I had to face the ghosts from my past, too.