2. TANNER

2

TANNER

T he morning light filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, casting dappled shadows across the ground. My axe bit into the log with a satisfying thud, splitting the wood cleanly in two. I picked up the halves, tossing them onto the growing pile by the cabin. When I put down the next log, I swung the axe overhead again, yanking it down with all the force I had and the log split in two again.

This was my routine. The rhythm of chopping wood, the crisp bite of the mountain air—it was the only thing that kept the memories at bay.

Today, I needed those memories further than ever.

Chopping wood wasn’t just a routine, it was an outlet, helping me deal with the colossal clusterfuck that was Rae arriving again on my doorstep as if she’d always been there.

Damn it, what the hell was I supposed to do with that? For years I’d lived a perfectly happy life, able to forget about all the damage I’d done.

Or at least one where I could convince myself of all of that.

And now she was here, reminding me what a son of a bitch I really was.

Out here, among the towering pines and whispering winds, I should have been able to forget. But McKenna-Rae fucking Stevens just had to bring it all back in a tidal wave of the past, crushing me into the ground as if I wasn’t six-foot-four and as big as a boulder.

I set another log on the stump and raised the axe, feeling the strain in my shoulders. Each swing was a release, a way to channel the anger and guilt that bubbled just beneath the surface.

Years ago, I had been a different man. A loyal henchman, the muscle, the guy who took out the trash. I’d worked my way up until I’d been a right-hand man, irreplaceable because that was how you stayed alive in a world where there were no rules, no guarantees.

I’d thought I was doing a good thing. The guy had been just about as nasty as the devil himself, but he’d paid well, played by a set of rules I understood.

Until that one meeting, the one I’d unknowingly set up as a murderer-for-hire.

The one that left a family dead, including a child.

Guilt turned in my chest, a knife between my ribs, and I gritted my teeth. I grunted through it as the axe came down with a force that made the log shudder before splitting. I couldn’t shake the image of their lifeless bodies, glassy eyes looking blankly up at the sky. The child’s hand still tightly clasped in his mother’s.

I hoped wherever they were now, she could still hold on to him like that, keep him safe.

It haunted me, followed me into my dreams, turning them into nightmares.

I glanced at the pile of wood, wiping sweat from my brow. It was getting colder, and I needed to stock up for a winter snowed in at the cabin. Winter in the mountains was brutal, the snow piling up to the roof of my cabin on some days, but that was when I was safest.

No one would ever find me there.

No one but the ghosts who followed me around.

With the chopping done for now, I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder. Hunting was next on the agenda. There were no grocery stores or conveniences out here—just the land and what it provided. Living off it was the only way to keep myself grounded, to remind myself I was still capable of something good.

I’d wanted to go back to the cabin Laura sometimes let me use when mine was cut off so I could leave a stash of winter clothes.

The cabin was simple, with double walls and insulation, but when the cold came a-knocking, that wasn’t enough.

Still, it was mine. I’d built it with my own hands and Bear’s help. Bear was my only connection to the outside, the man who’d given me the tough love and no-nonsense advice I needed when I first crawled into these mountains, a broken shell of a man.

As I trekked through the forest, the cold air burned my lungs. Rae’s face flashed before me. Seeing her last night had stirred something in me—something I’d buried so fucking deep no one had been able to find it. But Rae had always been able to crack me open until she saw who I was on the inside.

Until she saw all the broken and twisted and ugly I carried around. If I hadn’t run, she would have.

She’d looked the way she’d always looked, but something about her was different. Stronger, more resilient, but there was a shadow in her eyes.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. I shouldn’t be thinking about her. I had work to do, a life to live. I’d created a world without her.

Why is she here?

After all these years, had she really just stumbled into my life again by accident? Shit like this didn’t happen. Too serendipitous. In my line of work—before I became an outlaw the way I am now—serendipity didn’t exist.

It was almost meticulously planned.

What if she was planned, too?

Planted? The thought gnawed at me. Had my ex-boss sent her? Was she here to drag me back into the darkness I’d fled? If there was one person who could crumble the walls around me, it was her. What if someone knew?

But I’d kept her away from that life, away from that world, for a reason.

Not just to keep her pure, but to keep her safe.

To keep me safe.

They couldn’t use her against me if they didn’t know her.

A rustle in the underbrush yanked me back to the present, and I froze, lowering my rifle slowly. A deer emerged, its ears flicking in the morning breeze. I took aim, holding my breath. Slowly, nibbling, the deer walked in front of my scope. I took a deep breath in, exhaled, paused, pulled the trigger before I continued the exhale.

The shot rang out, and the deer fell. For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut.

I would never not hate killing. But this wasn’t for the sake of killing. This was for the sake of survival.

Meat for the next few weeks.

I shouldered my rifle and approached, my steps silent on the forest floor.

After dressing the deer, I made my way back to the cabin, the weight of my thoughts heavier than the animal over my shoulders. When I arrived, Bear was waiting by the firepit. Graying hair and a thick beard made him look like he belonged here as much as the pines and rocks.

“Morning, Tanner,” he greeted, his voice a deep rumble. “Got yourself a good one today.”

“Morning, Bear.” I dropped the deer beside the pit. “Yeah, should keep me fed for a while.”

Bear’s eyes studied me.

“Nice pile of wood, too.”

I nodded.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

Bear leaned back and chewed on something, kicking his legs out. He stared at the firepit as if it had a fire, and I stood in silence for a while.

Mason Thompson lived in the mountains and as far as anyone knew, he’d always been here. He’d earned the name Bear when he’d fought off a real bear, claiming his territory with his bare hands. Or so the story went.

I trusted him. He’d lived in the mountains for so long; he understood what life meant when we returned to our roots and lived the way our ancestors used to.

He understood what it meant to leave all the demons behind and flee into rough country so deep that they couldn’t follow.

“Rae’s here,” I said, the words tasting bitter. “She showed up at the cabin last night.”

Bear raised an eyebrow, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Rae? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. What’s she doing here ?”

“That’s the problem.” I sat down opposite Bear and sighed, leaning my elbows on my knees, planted wide. “I don’t know.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “She says she’s got nowhere else to go, but I don’t buy it.”

“What do you think’s going on?”

“I don’t know… she’s hiding something.”

Bear nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. “Could be.”

I glanced up at him. “I can’t trust her,” I said, frustrated. “What if she’s working for him? What if she’s here to drag me back?”

Bear shook his head. “You really think she’d do that? After all you two went through?”

“After how I left her… I don’t know. I don’t know if he got to her. I don’t know if she was safe when I left. I should have made sure of it, but if I had, he would have caught me before I could get out.” I let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.”

Bear’s intense eyes bore into my soul. “You’ve been out here a long time, Tanner.”

I nodded. “Not long enough.”

“Maybe running from your past isn’t the answer anymore.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t like I could turn around and face it just like that. How could I face a past that had left so many scars? How could I trust anyone, even Rae, when trust had cost me everything?

I turned back to the deer, focusing on the task at hand. Skinning, gutting, preparing. It was something tangible, something I could control. I knew what to do, my hands worked with a rhythm. My body was steady, breathing controlled, hands doing what they’d done for years. Unlike my mind, that raced, driving me crazy.

After a while of sitting in silence, Bear helped me with the deer. We worked as a team. He carefully peeled the skin away from the meat while I carefully removed the guts without puncturing the stomach. We worked in companionable silence, the only sound the rhythmic scraping of knives against flesh.

Bear stood and washed his hands in the trough I kept close by.

The water was icy and would soon freeze over, but I would see to it that I had enough of everything.

Bear walked to me where I still kneeled, clothes bloody, hands stained.

I might not have killed that family myself, but whenever I saw blood on my hands, it felt like it could be theirs.

Bear clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, Tanner. You always do.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” I wasn’t so sure.

I watched him disappear into the trees. I stood and washed my hands, too. The meat had to be cut, smoked, dried. The hide had to be tanned.

There was still much to do before winter came, and I was grateful for the work. It was easier to do the simple tasks of surviving than to deal with the complicated matters of the heart.

With Rae back, it reminded me that I had one, and that reminded me that it was a fucking pain.