He stared at her for a long moment, torn between pleasure and confusion at her words. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t lose another baby,” she told him bluntly, and his heart twisted at her words. She’d already lost so much. “I know sometimes it happens with no fault on anyone. But I want to give any child the best chance of life. If I’m pregnant, I want regular check-ups, and a hospital to give birth in surrounded by doctors, and midwives, to give our child the best start possible.”
“We can do that,” he said automatically.
“How?” she whispered. “You want me to hike two days down a mountain while pregnant for every check-up? While in labor?”
Her words penetrated, and he finally understood what she was saying. Because no, he wouldn’t want her hiking down the mountain while pregnant. He’d want her here, in his cabin where he could keep her safe. Not slipping down steep, rocky hills and sleeping on hard ground. In fact, he didn’t want her doing that even while not pregnant. He wanted her to have all the luxury she wanted.
Luxury he couldn’t give her.
His heart shriveled into dust and he turned away from her. His cabin was revealed to him with a fresh gaze. How small it was. The lumpy the mattress beneath him on the too-small bed. No electricity, or heat. Cold stone floors. Bland food.
And outside a storm still raged, trapping them here. The danger of that, how he risked death every day. No matter how well he planned, the simplest thing could kill him with no notice.
Of course she wanted to leave. Why would she want to stay? He had nothing to offer her.
Nothing but his heart and soul.
But it wasn’t enough, he could see that. And he didn’t blame her, even as the empty place where his heart had been gaped open like a wound.
“Elijah,” she said gently, placing a hand on his back. He didn’t look her way. Her voice shook. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to live closer to town? That way—”
He stood, and her hand—their last contact—fell away. “This is my home, Gia. It’s the only thing I know.” He braced himself and turned. When he met her stricken, miserable gaze, he wished he hadn’t. It killed him to see her hurting and know he was the cause. His first, desperate instinct was to do anything to take the hurt away.
But how could he do that? He couldn’t promise her he’d leave, go live in a city. He didn’t know that life, couldn’t live it. This mountain was his home, and he loved every inch of it. He knew it, understood it, in a way he’d never understand anywhere else.
And Gia suggesting he live closer to town wouldn’t work, either. He couldn’t tear everything down and move it down the mountain. It would be an impossible task physically, taking everything to a new location, stone by stone. It would take him years of constant labor, even if he could find somewhere suitable. But worse, he’d never survive it, and neither would she. It had taken him and his father years to build the cabin, cultivate the soil for the garden, get everything livable. Gia would leave him long before he finished such a project.
“There’s no reason you have to live like this,” Gia said, desperate.
Elijah’s anger spiked again. “Like what? Off the grid? In a cabin?”
“In a tiny bed, in a tiny cabin, so far from civilization,” she said, her voice rising in equal anger. “With no electricity, and bland foods.”
“I live a simple life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No. Of course not. But I can’t help wondering if you’re stuck, or frozen out here. You haven’t made any changes or improvements since your father died.” She shuffled off the bed and stood, back straight as she stared at him. Her expression was a mix of defiance and fear and anger that made his heart quicken.
“What are you saying?” he gritted out. He didn’t need judgments. Didn’t she understand? His father was all he’d had for five years. And after that his memory had been the only thing keeping Elijah company. For ten long years, this had been his home. It was all he knew. The only thing that held memories of the closest person to him.
“I’m not saying, I’m asking.” She paused, eyes roaming over his face. “What are you afraid of?” she whispered.
“Who says I’m afraid?” The fear-like anger spiked again, harder this time, until Elijah struggled to focus on her words when he couldn’t even breathe.
“It’s like you’re punishing yourself,” she told him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. “You can live the same isolated life, off the grid, self-sufficient, whatever you want to call it, but with a better quality of life. There’s no shame in wanting something better and more comfortable than what you have.”
“Like what you had?” he growled. “A life of expensive handbags and everything handed to you on a platter?”
She reeled back, and Elijah knew he’d gone too far. He’d lashed out, and she didn’t deserve that.
“There’s such a thing as a middle ground,” she gritted out before he could apologize. Angry tears sprung to her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting good food and a comfortable bed and nearby medical care. I’ve lived without luxuries, all through my childhood. I know it can be done. But it shouldn’t have to be. Not when you can have better.”
Her words made sense, which made it so much worse. He tried not to listen, not to let them penetrate and settle inside him. If they did, things would change, he’d change. And he didn’t know who or what he’d become. Who would he be without this place? Without his father’s memory?
This cabin was all he’d known for fifteen years. He’d been a kid when he’d been brought here. He had no idea how to function as an adult in the real world. Was Gia right? Was he afraid and making excuses? Or would it be everything he feared?
His chest compressed like he was trapped beneath a stone. He couldn’t breathe. His gut churned.
Elijah turned away from Gia before he said something he’d regret. That wasn’t enough to escape her tearful face as it burned into his mind. He strode the few steps to the storeroom, the one that had once been his father’s bedroom, and pushed the door shut behind him. He sucked in a deep breath of cool air. On the other side of the door, Gia let out a sob, and his heart shattered. He should be out there comforting her, not causing her more pain. But he needed time and distance to think things through or he might blurt out something hurtful he couldn’t ever take back. Words had never been his strong suit.
He shivered from the cold. The fire hadn’t reached this room past the closed door, but Elijah wasn’t about to go back and get his jacket. He needed time away from Gia to think.
He wasn’t used to being questioned, to justifying himself, or explaining his actions. He’d been alone for too long, made choices that only affected himself. Never had anyone challenged those choices, or accused him of being afraid. Was there some truth to it?
Before he could think about what Gia said logically, he had to clear his mind. Not let his emotions cloud his judgment.
He stared at his father’s room, now crowded with random items he needed. Spare food, gardening equipment, hunting gear. All of it his, nothing shared. Not since his father died and left him all alone.
The room was almost like a symbol. A space that used to belong to someone Elijah had cared for, and he’d filled it with things. Work. No luxuries or friends or a lover.
When his father had passed, it had left him isolated in the world, and he’d had to fend for himself. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to, to discuss issues with. Aaron kept pushing for them to catch up over a beer, but Elijah had kept him at arm’s length. He hadn’t listened to any of the man’s suggestions to improve his lifestyle.
Was he afraid? Is that what held him stagnant? Or was this the life he belonged to?
He didn’t know, and the cold room didn’t provide an answer.
Elijah stayed in the storeroom until he was shaking with the chill. He braced himself and returned to the main room of the cabin. The fire burned low, and Gia was asleep in his bed. Where she belonged.
>
One thing was certain: he didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t.
He hesitated for a long moment. Should he join her? It was the only place he wanted to be, wrapped around her, but would she welcome him? As he considered her back, the dilemma, everything, the wind outside dropped off in a sudden lull.
Elijah swore he heard a sound that didn’t belong outside his cabin.
People.
Chapter 18
“Are you sure this is it?” Ray asked Aaron, raising his voice over the wind. He squinted to get a better view through the storm. A cabin sat in a small clearing, illuminated by moonlight filtering through swirling snow. Unidentifiable wooden structures surrounded it, casting shadows across the garden.
Aaron glared at Ray, but nodded. A satisfied smile curved over Ray’s lips.
This would end tonight.
The wind and snow had died a little in the last hour, making the final leg of their journey slightly more pleasant. If Ray was a religious man, he’d believe God was showing him he was on the right path.
The snow they’d trekked through had been anywhere from ankle deep to waist high. He was frozen solid, face chapped, wet through, and more than ready for this to be over. The only thing that had kept him moving through the worst of it was the chant he’d developed in his head with every step. Kill. Gia.
Simple, but effective.
That bitch had got him into this mess, and he intended to make her pay. Slowly, if he could.
Through the flurries of snow, he could just make out the cabin. It was pathetic. Tiny, and run down. If Ray hadn’t seen the hints of smoke from the chimney or the glow from a fire through the cracks around the doors and window, he’d believe Aaron had led him to an abandoned building from a hundred years ago.
It was hard to imagine the Gia he’d known deigning to live here for even a moment, but no doubt she was desperate. She’d have to be.
Well, it wouldn’t be standing for long.
“Burn it,” he instructed.
Aaron stumbled back. “Fuck off.”
Ray gritted his teeth, fighting to hold onto his temper. He didn’t have time for this. He almost regretted killing Howie now. That man would have done whatever Ray ordered without complaint. Now, he was stuck with this asshole who couldn’t follow instructions.
He cocked his gun and aimed it at Aaron. “Burn it,” he repeated, firmer this time.
“Fuck. Off,” Aaron repeated, even firmer. The wind picked up again, drowning out any noise and bringing new gusts of snow.
Ray hesitated for a moment. “Fine.” He raised the gun and aimed it at Aaron’s head. The asshole was of no use to him now, anyway. He’d found Gia, found his money. As long as he kept heading down the mountain, he’d make it to safety.
He tightened his finger on the trigger. Before he got a shot off, Aaron dived forward, slamming the breath from his lungs. They went down in a tangle, Ray landing hard on his back with Aaron on top of him. He took half a second to suck in some air so his head would stop spinning, then he swung his arm around to aim his gun.
Aaron got there first, holding Ray’s gun arm to the snowy ground with all his body weight. He struggled, but he couldn’t throw the man off. His heart thundered, pumping rage through his body like blood. How dare this shit attack him?
Aaron kicked back, foot landing on the burning cut on Ray’s leg. Pain arced through him. The shock of it made Ray’s finger tighten on the trigger, firing off a shot that exploded in a nearby tree trunk.
Fuck. If Gia heard that, she’d know he was coming. Hopefully the wind was loud enough to snatch the sound away.
As he recovered, Aaron took the opportunity to slam his fist into Ray’s face. His head swirled.
“Get the fuck off me,” he choked, but that, too, was drowned out by the onslaught of wind and snow.
Aaron ignored him, or simply hadn’t heard. Instead, he reached down to pry the gun from Ray’s hand. Ray waited for a moment, then fired off another shot. The blast was muted but still managed to make his ears ring. Aaron made a sound of pain and his grip on Ray’s arm loosened. As Ray had intended, the vents had blown the heat from the firing mechanism straight into Aaron’s hand, burning him through his glove.
Ray used Aaron’s pain and distraction to throw him off. Aaron recovered quicker than Ray expected, grabbing for the gun as Ray scooted away.
But Ray wouldn’t be caught unawares again. Instead, he pulled the gun around and squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Aaron’s gut.
Aaron grunted and fell to his knees, his hands pressing into his side. Then, he collapsed into the snow, curling around the wound.
Ray almost shot him again, in the head this time, but he didn’t want to waste his bullets. He needed to save those for Gia and whatever asshole she had with her. Aaron would be dead soon, anyway. Either from the wound or the weather. The snow would cover him, and bleeding out from a gut shot was one of the more painful ways to go. Ray grinned in savage satisfaction at the thought.
He turned his attention to the rotting pile of wood and stone that contained his wife. The wind buffeted him, chilling him to his bones. He stumbled but stayed focused on his goal.
There was only one door, and he hadn’t seen anyone come out yet. They must still be inside. He considered charging in there after them. But if they’d heard the gunshots, they’d know he was here. They could be waiting for him with weapons of their own.
No, it was a much better idea for him to smoke them out—literally—and then off them as they fled.
Ray peered through the snow at what the remaining moonlight revealed. He had a lighter in his pack, just needed something to set on fire. Something that would catch quickly and wouldn’t be snatched away by the wind. His eyes landed on the garden. Or, a pathetic approximation of one. There were little structures over where the plants would be.
He grinned and stalked over to them, ignoring Aaron’s groans of pain from behind him until he couldn’t hear them anymore.
He tore apart the garden, ignoring the splinters that dug through his gloves and scraped his palms. More pain to ignore, along with the cut on his leg and his aches and pains and chills. The structures were wood, so he used them as a base. Then, he pulled up the mostly-dry plants and threw them against the cabin door, which was the only part of the cabin visibly made of wood. The wind must have drowned out his movements, because there was no sign of anyone coming out.
When he had enough fuel for his fire, he pulled out a flask of whiskey he’d brought and splashed what was left of it over the pile. Then, he dug out his lighter and held it close. It caught quickly. The wind—partially blocked by the cabin, but still strong—picked up the embers and landed them on the roof, which looked like it was made of straw. After a long, fraught, moment in which he waited with baited breath, flames raced across the roof and down the side of the cabin.
Ray stepped back to admire the flames merrily consuming the cabin, fueled by the intense winds flowing over the mountain.
Then, he waited.
Chapter 19
Gia coughed as the smoke filled the cabin. Elijah had woken her less than a minute ago. The flames hadn’t yet penetrated the stone exterior, but the smoke poured in from the seams and the roof. “What on earth?”
Elijah shook his head. “I heard someone outside and then noticed the flames. They spread so quick.”
“We have to get out,” Gia said, starting towards the door. Elijah grabbed her arm to hold her back.
She shook him off. “You want us to burn alive?”
He shook his head. “But I don’t want us to freeze to death out there, either,” he said, gesturing outside the cabin to the storm. “The weather will kill us as fast as the fire. Coat, shoes, supplies. We need to head down the mountain tonight.”
Gia stared at him in shock for a long moment. Go down the mountain in this? They’d die. But then her mind registered what he was saying. It was dangerous up here. Deadly. Particularly in a storm like this. An
d someone was out there, someone who might have set the fire.
Ray.
He was the only person she knew who would do this. He must have found her.
She didn’t know how, but she should have known she wouldn’t be safe.
She swallowed, her mouth already filled with smoke. She nodded at him to show she understood. He stepped back, hurrying around the cabin and throwing things into his pack. Gia trusted him to find whatever they’d need for surviving out there. He had to, because she didn’t have a clue. All she could prepare was herself.
She pulled on the pants she’d arrived at the cabin in, then layered clothes under her jacket. She ignored her watering eyes and coughing, keeping one eye on the spreading flames as she and Elijah worked.
Beanie, gloves, scarf.
She pulled on socks and then the boots Elijah had so carefully made for her. It had been a prescient, thoughtful gift, and she was sad she had to now wear them under these circumstances.
Then, right before she declared herself ready, she grabbed the bag that held the money. Since Ray had burned her and Elijah out of house and home, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.
She turned to find Elijah similarly attired with his large pack on his back. It had taken them less than a minute, and already the fire had spread to dangerous levels. Part of the roof above Elijah was engulfed in flames, and Gia swallowed in fear.
Elijah analyzed her from head to toe, then gave her a nod to show he approved. Her heart warmed with the gesture, even as she reminded herself they’d argued, that Elijah had decided not to fight for her.
Gia strode towards the door, but Elijah held her back. His face was smudged with soot, and she was no doubt equally filthy, but his gaze was steady. “He could be out there. I go first.”
Gia exhaled in a rush, fear squeezing the breath from her lungs, but she nodded. Elijah’s protective instinct made her love him all the more.
Love?
Love. What a time for such a revelation. They could die any second and she only now realized she was in love with Elijah? The thought delighted and terrified her. But now wasn’t the time. First, they had to get out of this alive.
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