10. TANNER

10

TANNER

S lowly, Rae’s ankle healed and she seemed to be less hostile, less suspicious of me.

I didn’t want her to be. As long as she was angry with me, pushing me away, fighting me, the easier it was to not fall for her all over again.

Fuck, even when she was pissed off, seething, a fire burning with pure rage in her eyes, she was so beautiful that I wanted to grab her and make her mine in every way that I could.

The walls I had built around myself began to crumble involuntarily and that upset me.

How the hell was I supposed to keep my guard up when she could tear right through it without even trying?

What got to me the most was the times we spent together, eating, talking, looking out over the forest as the rain came down in steady sheets sometimes, or the forest recovered from the storm, when I caught glimpses of the life we could have had.

The life I’d left behind the night I’d run without even saying goodbye.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, we stood side by side in the small kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was soothing, a stark contrast to the stormy emotions that usually raged inside me.

“You’re pretty handy with that knife,” I said, glancing over at her.

Rae smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I had to learn. In the city, living on takeout is a thing, but here…” She glanced at me. “I’m not great at cooking. My food still tastes like crap.”

I chuckled, the sound surprising me. “You could never cook.”

“Hey,” she said, feigning offense.

I laughed, and we fell silent again.

“You ever miss it? The city?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, her gaze distant. “But there’s something peaceful about this place. It’s a good place to heal.”

“Heal?” I echoed, my tone softer. What did she have to heal from so many years after I’d left her behind? “Yeah, I guess it is.”

We fell into a comfortable silence. The last time I’d felt so at ease, so connected to someone, was when we’d been together. Since then, I’d been haunted, my demons attacking me for years, making every day a struggle to survive my own past. Having Rae here was a soothing balm to my aching soul.

It wasn’t Silver Ridge that had offered me any kind of healing.

It was her.

Rae had always been the girl for me, the one who made everything better just by being there.

As we ate dinner, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories from our pasts, laughing at old memories. It was like peeling back the layers of who we were, rediscovering the people we had been before everything went wrong.

After dinner, we sat by the fire, sipping on hot cocoa. The cabin had always been a shelter. I’d collected things over the years that made the space more my own, but it was only now, with her here, that it had gone from a house to a home.

Rae leaned back on the wooden sleeper couch I’d built with my own hands, her eyes half-closed. “This is nice,” she murmured. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” I admitted, my heart aching with the truth of it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this… normal.”

She turned her gaze to me. “So, what happened after you left? Did you ever fall in love again?”

The question caught me off guard, and I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

“No,” I said softly.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, a smirk playing around her mouth. “A handsome, capable man like you…” There was something underneath her joking tone. A real question. Did you replace me?

“I was too busy trying to survive,” I said. “There’s a lot to do out here that has nothing to do with love.”

“Mm.” I didn’t know what she was thinking. “That seems like a very lonely life.”

“Not by choice.”

She watched me for a while, not saying anything. What was going on in that head of hers?

“I think we all have a choice, Tanner.”

That was easier said than done. There were certain things that couldn’t be helped.

Like the fact she might have died if I hadn’t run that night. That she might have fallen out of love with me if she’d learned what I’d done.

That she wouldn’t be here now, looking at me like I wasn’t a monster, when in fact, I was.

We sat in silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. The weight of unspoken words hung between us, the things we hadn’t yet dared to say. Rae’s presence was a balm to my soul, but it also brought back the pain of everything I’d left behind.

“What about you?” I asked finally. “Did you find someone else?”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering with an emotion I couldn’t quite read before she shrugged to shake it off. “I had a few flings.” Her eyes turned to me, challenging me to tell her she was wrong. Jealousy twisted in my chest, but I couldn’t fault her for trying to move on.

When I didn’t say anything, she shook her head. “It was never anything serious, nothing really worth my time.”

She swirled the cocoa left in her cup, watching it nearly lap over the edge.

“Until?”

“Until nothing,” she said tightly.

Which meant there had been someone serious.

The jealousy was suddenly a live beast inside me. I wanted to know who the fuck he was and where I could find him so I could show him just who was boss, so I could claim Rae as mine.

But she wasn’t mine.

I’d given up the right to defend her, to protect her, to call her mine when I’d left without an explanation.

“Is he the guy who’s after you?” My tone was hard.

“It’s not really any of your business, is it?” Her voice was hard in response, her eyes challenging me again.

“It is if you’re running. What did he do?”

Rae shook her head and stood, walking to the kitchen. I watched her moving comfortably on her ankle. She was fine.

As if she was thinking the same thing, she turned to me. “I think I’ll leave in the morning.”

“If it doesn’t storm again.”

“You should be so lucky.”

I grunted. I was pissed off that she didn’t want to talk to me, upset that some guy had had her… and then fucked up badly enough that she was on the run from him.

Rae deserved so much better.

Like you, who left her? the tiny voice at the back of my mind asked.

“You don’t have to go, you know.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“It’s better I do,” she said, turning to me, her arms crossed over her chest. Shutting me out. “We can’t change the past, Tanner. It is what it is. We were something, but that’s over, and now… it’s better we go our separate ways.”

The words stung. I hated that she wanted to leave.

And I hated that she had every right to.

When I woke up the next morning in the bed we’d shared after we’d slept together, she wasn’t in it. The blankets were cold—she’d been up for a while.

Cold fingers clutched my heart—what if she’d already left without saying goodbye?

You don’t deserve anything else .

Besides, it wasn’t like she would leave Silver Ridge, right? She’d just go back to her cabin… I would still see her around.

I got up, pulled on pants and a shirt before shrugging on my jacket. When I walked into the front room of the cabin, the fireplace had died down to only embers.

Rae stood in front of the large window that overlooked the mountainside, a fur blanket wrapped around her shoulders in the cold.

The tightness in my chest unwound when I realized she was still there.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

I nodded and put more logs on the fire, bringing it back to life. The weather had become drastically colder over the last few days, signs that winter was almost at our doorstep.

“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was so soft I barely heard her.

“Sure.”

“Why did you leave?”

The question caught me off guard, and I froze. I was made of guilt and shame.

“It’s… complicated,” I said slowly.

She turned her head, looked at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were deep, filled with questions.

“More complicated than giving up everything we had? Or did I get it wrong? Was I more invested than you were and you couldn’t just tell me?”

The pain in her eyes was a stake to the heart. Fuck, if she was hurting, how the hell could I ever justify that? She was the beat of my heart and if she was in pain, I was in pain.

I wanted to tell her the truth. That I had to leave to protect her. But if she asked me from what, I would have to either lie to her—which I’d been doing all this time anyway—or I’d have to tell her the truth.

And if I told her the truth, that I’d killed a child, she would see me for the monster I really was.

“I didn’t know how to break things off,” I lied. “I guess I handled it wrong, but at the time, it seemed better that way.”

She shook her head, confused.

“You really didn’t want me anymore?”

Fuck, if she could look any more pained, I would die. I hated what I was doing to her. But I had to look after her, keep protecting her. Not from my boss and his men anymore, but from myself.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you,” I said. “I just didn’t see a future, and, well, it was time to move on.”

Fuck, the words had come out horribly wrong. It sounded like I was a complete asshole.

Which you are .

Rae’s eyes hardened, and she rolled her lips. If she was close to tears, she’d become a pro at hiding it. I used to be able to tell even when the rest of the world couldn’t.

But I didn’t have the privilege of seeing who she was on the inside anymore, and she’d learned to wear her mask so well she could keep me out, too.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Let me walk you—”

“Don’t, Tanner.” The coldness in her voice made me shiver. “I’ll be fine without you.”

Those words cut deep, and when she walked past me, I let her go.

She came from the room a short while later, dressed in the clothes she’d arrived in. She’d worn my clothes until now, and I’d loved seeing her in them. And seeing her out of them. I’d loved undressing her, relearning her curves, connecting with her again.

But I was shut out now.

“Thanks for helping me, letting me stay,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re always welcome,” I said just the way I’d said it the first time, but this time, I could see in her eyes she didn’t believe me.

And why should she? I was a complete asshole, I’d been a real dick, and I’d severed whatever warmth and connection we’d built over the past few days with one sentence.

She stepped outside, and my heart ached.

Frustration surged inside me, and I struggled to keep my voice calm. “Rae.” I called her back. She turned and looked at me, her face expressionless. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I shook my head. “I mean with… your thing. The reason you’re here. Are you going to be safe?”

She tilted her head a little. “I don’t see why you would care.”

With that, she turned around and walked away from me, making her way down the mountain.

I stayed behind, watching her go, until she disappeared between the trees.

I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into an abyss of emotions I wasn’t ready to face. The cabin, once a sanctuary, now felt hollow and stifling, the walls closing in around me, and I was painfully aware that she was gone.

I couldn’t stay inside. I needed to move, to do something physical to channel the storm raging within. I stormed out of the cabin and between the trees. The cold did nothing to calm the fire in my chest.

I made my way to the woodpile, hoping it would help to do something. The winter was still coming, I still had to prepare. The familiar rhythm of chopping wood offered a small measure of comfort. Each swing of the axe was a release, the physical exertion giving me something tangible to focus on, but her face, her eyes, her words wouldn’t leave me alone. The sharp crack of wood splitting echoed through the quiet forest, punctuating the silence with each blow and in my mind’s eye, I felt her pain as if the axe was biting into her instead.

Fuck!

No matter how many logs I split, the turmoil inside me didn’t fade. I’d lost Rae all over again; the fragile bond we were rebuilding had shattered with my words. The more I’d tried to protect her, the more I’d lost her. The fear and frustration she had shown, the secrets she still held onto, it all cut deeper than my axe into the wood, and damn it, I was a lost cause.

I threw the axe down, the handle hitting the ground with a dull thud. My breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning my lungs. I leaned against the chopping block.

I’d come to these mountains to escape, to find peace, but instead, I was right back where I started—caught in a web of emotions and regrets that I couldn’t untangle.

I sank to the ground, my back against the chopping block, and buried my face in my hands. The memories of our past, the good times and the bad, played like a cruel movie in my mind. I still heard the way Rae used to laugh, felt the way she’d made me feel alive in a way no one else ever had. And now, the hollowness inside me after I’d lost her, the echo that went on forever.

“Fuck it.” I swore again, the frustration and pain boiling over. I wanted to fix things, to make everything right, but I didn’t know how. It wasn’t like I could change the past, change what I did. She didn’t deserve someone like me in her life. She deserved more, better.

I forced myself to stand. The cold had seeped into my bones, but I barely felt it. I needed to clear my head, to find some way to make sense of the mess I was in.

I started walking, the forest quiet and judging, as if it knew what I’d done and it disagreed, too.

I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I needed to move, to put distance between myself and the cabin, myself and Rae, myself and the past.

The trees closed in around me, their branches whispering in the wind, but I didn’t pay attention to them. My thoughts were a hurricane, and I was caught in the eye of the storm.

Eventually, I found myself at the edge of the Silver Ridge River. The water flowed silently. I stared at the river, the cold biting into my skin. The world felt distant, like I was watching it from behind a pane of glass.

And that was the way it would stay. I would be forever on the outside, looking in.

I would always look at Rae and know I could never truly reach her.

This was the life I had chosen.

The only life I deserved.

This was my punishment for taking those lives—I’d lost the right to live my own.