by Teagan Kade
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
Table of Contents
Title Page
COPYRIGHT
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Also by Teagan Kade:
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
Note from Ava
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Published by Teagan Kade
Edited by Sennah Tate
Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Kade
COPYRIGHT
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Also by Teagan Kade:
WINTER MIRACLE
ADAGIO
BRUTE
BLAZE
HUSTLE
LAWLESS
LONG GAME
DIRTY DEBT
LOADED
AMPED
DRILLED
DIRTY BRAWLER
WRECKED
SLAMMED
STROKER
STRIKER
THROTTLE
ROYALLY WRONG
HITCHED
CHASING STORM
DEDICATION
It’s wilder in the forest when I’m with you, Nance. Thanks for showing me the way.
CHAPTER ONE
DEAN
The wind is rushing at my face with a cold, stinging urgency and it’s exactly what I need. If I close my eyes I can almost pretend I’m still that kid racing through the woods with my whole life ahead of me. But I can’t close my eyes for long and I sure as hell can’t pretend the best is still ahead. All I have anymore is this—riding, ripping through the wilderness like I’m daring the mountain to buck me and send me crashing towards certain death. But no matter how much I press my offer, the mountain never answers.
I rise, shifting my weight over the handlebars of my faithful old Yeti 303 and bracing for the rise in the trail. My muscles shudder from the jolt. The front shock should be replaced, but I take the vibrations in stride, the punishment its own release. It feels so good letting go, letting sensation flood my system and seeing only the trail, blocking out everything except the immediate future.
I come around a curve in the path and skid to a halt. The wet leaves do their part to send me sliding, but I stop just in time.
“Oh my g-god! Help! Please, I n-need help-p!” the older man sputters. He’s muddy, more soaked than I am and shivering, his teeth chattering as he speaks.
“What’s going on?” I ask, pulling out my earbuds. I don’t really need an answer, though. It’s a scene I’ve run into a thousand times in these woods.
He’s still shaking, trying to form words, so I pull out a space blanket from my pack. “Thank y-you,” he answers, wrapping it tightly around himself.
“You get separated from a group?” I ask.
“N-no, I came out to photograph Chimney F-falls. I had my dog with me, b-but that’s it,” he answers, and I notice the heavy camera bags he’s still clinging to. Must’ve been some good pictures if he’s still hauling them around.
“The trail for Chimney Falls is about thirteen miles east of here, so how long have you been out here?”
I offer him a Clif Bar and he rips into it with a greediness that tells me it’s been more than a few hours.
“Two days. I took a d-detour off the path to get a better vantage of the falls. It was like the path just got swallowed up by the mountain. I’m a c-careful man, but every direction I turned looked the same. I don’t know how it happened,” he explains between bites, the chattering easing a bit.
His story is a familiar one. Mount Halbbitter is a fucking beast and this guy’s probably not even the first hiker to get lost this month. Most have the good sense to take someone with them, but plenty of hapless suckers wander out here solo and disappear. You’d think it would deter them, but somehow it only adds to the mystery, like some kind of mountainous Bermuda Triangle.
“Well, you’re lucky I found you then,” I tell him. “We’re about ten miles from the trailhead and there’s no way you’re getting there on foot before nightfall. Three nights of exposure won’t look good on you—that is if there is anything left to look at come morning. I’ll ride ahead and call the Rangers. They’ll bring a four-wheeler up the trail for you. In the meantime, if you can, keep moving for circulation, but stay on this trail.”
I pull out another bar and some gel shot blocks for him. They taste like gooey, expired gummy bears but, in a pinch, they’ll keep you fueled.
“What about my d-dog? Sammy is out there s-still. He’s a golden retriever puppy, sweet b-boy. He just likes to chase b-birds and I…”
“Sorry, but Sammy was probably cougar kibble on night one,” I say, climbing back onto my bike and clipping one shoe in. “Now, if you don’t want to be kitten food as well, you’ll do as I said. Stay on the trail.”
His face drops and I almost regret the words. Except I don’t. The truth might suck ass, but there is no point giving him false hope. This mountain, this forest, isn’t for beginners. It’s life or death out here, and usually death wins.
*
Finally, the rangers pull up. It’s only another hour until sunset when the temperatures drop and the predators come out in earnest. It’s not a problem for
me, but Ansel Adams back there could use some dry clothes and a warm bed.
“Well, well… Dean ‘The Dipshit’ Ipsoot. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen you lurking out here,” says the first ranger.
“Brody,” I say, acknowledging the racist hickface I traded bare-knuckle punches with back in high school. He’s got a little pot belly now and a double chin I’d love to smash in, but there’s a guy creeping towards hypothermia, so I’ll shelve the urge… for now.
“Scared of the dark, are we? I didn’t know you half-breeds were such pussies,” he taunts.
“Why don’t you do us all a favor and shut your shit-hole, Brody.”
“So, where’s the hiker, Ipsoot?” the second ranger says. I didn’t recognize him at first, but hearing him say my name, I look a little closer.
He’s changed a lot. Then again, I suppose we all have. Except, where Brody turned into a pudgy-faced Pillsbury dough-boy, Jasper looks to have grown a good four inches or more and bulked up like the football players who used to pick on him.
“Hey Jasper, good to see you, man. Guy’s about nine miles up the trail. Photographer, maybe early sixties, came out here with a dog that’s long gone by now. I didn’t see any visible signs of injury and he was still walking when I left, but he’s already been out here two nights. I’d call for medical.”
“You’ve gotten enough people out of here. I’ll trust your call. Brody, let County know to start a medical unit,” he says, going to the trailer and unhinging the gate to pull the four-wheelers out. “Thanks for calling it in. You mind hanging around until we get him back here? You don’t have to, but you know how many assholes get lost out here. I’d like to make sure whoever we come back with is the same person you ran into,” he laughs.
“Yeah, sure,” I answer. I do mind. I’d much rather be at Gracie’s with a nice thick elk burger and whiskey Coke, but they’ll still be there in an hour. It’s not like I have anyone waiting on me.
“Thanks, man,” he says, as they both climb on. “And Dean?”
I turn around. Brody’s already off.
“It’s good to see you back, man. We all heard what happened. It sucks, but you look good.”
My jaw clenches. I simply nod as he follows.
The fuck? Who is ‘we all’?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so disturbed by the mention. It’s not like my career played out in private. It pisses me off all the same. I didn’t come here to relive that. I came back to forget.
*
The ambulance pulls up a few minutes before Jasper is back with the old man clinging to him. There’s three EMTs who jump out and swarm, pulling him into the back of the truck, taking vitals and whatever the hell else.
Jasper looks to me and I nod. They got the right guy. Fuck, I need a hot shower. The old guy isn’t the only one starting to get cold. I’m about to head out when I spot the driver.
“No way! Dean?” he says, as recognition dawns and he comes toward me.
I let him pull me into a half hug and smile. “How’s it going, Deric?”
“A lot fucking better now, man! I haven’t seen you in what? Seven, eight years? When’s the last time you came back?”
“Summer before college—ten years. Been a long goddamned time, I know.”
“So, what’s going on? You passing through or what? And why in the fucking fuck didn’t you call me as soon as you got here?” he adds, pushing me.
I laugh. “Did you want me to make a friendship bracelet for you too? Figured we’d catch up soon anyway. I’m moving back.”
“No shit!” he says, breaking into a dimpled grin. “Hell, that’s the best news I’ve had all month.”
I shrug. “Yeah, well, it’s good to be back.”
Deric has always been the happy-go-lucky one. Why shouldn’t he be? His family was always cookie-cutter perfect. He had his own shit to deal with, we all did, but he had parents at home waiting for him to get back after we’d run off to the woods.
“Deric, patient is loaded. We need to go,” one of the EMT’s shouts.
Deric starts back towards the ambulance. “Hey, I get off in two hours. Don’t be a douche. Meet me at Gracie’s and I’ll buy you a pint. Welcome back to hell, man!”
*
Walking into Gracie’s feels a touch weird. I’ve been here a thousand times, sure, but never in the bar. Fake IDs work fine in the city, but in a small town where everyone knows everyone’s shit, you’re lucky if you can jack off without someone knowing. But I don’t need a fake ID anymore. It makes me feel about as old as the barstool I’m sitting on.
“The prodigal son returns, eh, Dean?”
Christ, am I the only one who left this town? She looks good, though—always did. But, as they say, looks can be deceiving. Big hair, big tits, big mouth, lousy fuck… or she was. Who knows now? Not that I have any interest in part two, electric boogaloo.
“Hey, Geena. Can I get a Jack and Coke?”
“You got it… though, the way I hear it, those tend to get you into trouble.” She walks off before I can respond. All the better. It wouldn’t have been nice.
I rake my hand through my hair. It’s still wet from my shower. Little droplets splash the bar.
“Shit, you look worse than when I left you. What’d you do? Get in a fight with a coyote?” Deric asks from behind me.
I turn around, relieved to have company before Geena comes back and starts more shit. “After you guys took off with Old Man River, I decided to take a quick ride over to the Den. For old time’s sake, you know?”
He’s nodding his head. “Yeah, I haven’t been out there in forever. How’s it looking?”
“Not great…”
“Got a little Devil’s Reunion going on?” Geena murmurs, dropping the drink off. She winks at Deric, who gives her a nod of interest and watches as she sashays away, swingin’ her ass with obvious intent.
“Didn’t know you were into sloppy seconds,” I laugh.
“More like sloppy tenths, but hey, my dick isn’t judgy. It’s future-focused, equal opportunity, and actively hiring. You ask me, Tamanass needs more sex-positive chicks. Speaking of transplants, what brings you back?”
Considering everyone in this town and their grandma knows, it’s pretty obvious he’s just being nice by asking. Still, I appreciate the effort.
“It was time, I guess. It’s the only place that feels like home, even if my family isn’t here anymore. The mountain’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch, you know?”
He nods in understanding. “Yeah, I kind of figured you’d be back eventually, and I’m glad you are now.”
We talk for a while. He’s been working for the last six years at Mountain Medical Response as a driver. From the sounds of it, it hasn’t been the happiest six years of his career. After all the training and classes he took to prepare for the fire department, it all fell through in the end. Then again, there’s a reason you don’t see many asthmatic firefighters, but I can tell it was hard on him.
We’re a couple elk burgers and more than a couple drinks in at this point. Geena’s flirtations are becoming less and less subtle, and I’m starting to think about walking back to my tiny rented cabin before they get it on in front of me. I start at the Rec Center in the morning. I should get some rest.
Even though the job is probably going to blow more than a five-dollar hooker, it’s something to do. I’ve got enough money socked away I could go a while without working, but money and time without purpose usually equals trouble. I came back here to move past that.
“Hey!” Deric says, a bit too loud. “You didn’t tell me about the Den! Damn, I haven’t been out there in so fucking long. After you left and then Dex took off a year after, it hasn’t felt the same… Just another shitty abandoned cabin.”
“Well, it was always a shitty abandoned cabin,” I remind him. “But it’s looking even shittier these days. I was thinking about going out there and fixing it up, actually. Slap a fresh coat of stain, fix the leaks in the roof, you know, just
make it decent.”
“Oh. My. God. That’s a fucking amazing idea. We should do it together!” He slams his drink down.
I’m not as drunk as him, but the idea holds appeal. “Yeah, man, let’s do it.”
Geena comes over with my check. “I heard you rescued some poor bastard out in the woods, Dean. You always were good in the bush.”
“Heeeey, let me tell you, little lady, he’s not the only one who knows what he’s doing in the—” Deric says, slurring and forgetting what he meant to say.
“That so?” replies Geena.
“Shit, you have any idea how many suckers I got out of there? Must have been in the dozens, right Dean?” he says, looking at me for backup.
Like the good wing man I am, I smile. “Oh, yeah, Deric knows the… terrain.”
He’s trying to impress her, but it’s true. We’re a thousand miles from any city worth mentioning, but there are always people coming to see the mountain, to experience one of the few remaining truly wild places.
“Maybe you should give me a tour sometime...” Geena winks, leaning over the bar, bucketfuls of cleavage following.
“I’ll give you a private tour tonight if you want,” Deric says, leaning forward to match.
They’re a few inches apart, speaking conspiratorially, but something she said stuck out.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I say to no one in particular.
“That’s what I’ve been saying! Sex is always a good idea,” Deric says, smiling as Geena goes to a customer gesturing for another round.
“Keep your dick in its cage for a minute. I’m talking about a business here.”
He looks confused. “I don’t follow.”
Since when did you ever? “You’re not happy at your job, right?”
He sighs. “You got that right.”
“Both of us know those woods inside and out, yes?” I add.
He’s still looking confused. “Yeaaaahh…”
“Drink up and stay with me,” I order, sliding him my glass of water. “Listen, I’ve got some savings, and working as a spin instructor at the Rec Center isn’t my dream job, but it was something. But… I don’t know, I’m thinking… what if we could be our own bosses?”