“Whatever you say, baby.”
“And maybe you should roast me another chicken.”
“I’ll spatchcock for you, any day.”
“Okay, now I’m not saying it until you promise tostopsaying spatchcock.”
“I’m afraid that one’s a deal-breaker for me.”
He huffed and linked his fingers through mine. We sat in silence that couldn’t ever be called peaceful, ears strained. My hand was at the ready to reach for the gun again. But even with all of that, it wasn’t anywhere near as horrible as the last time I’d sat frozen in this lookout, afraid of the killer waiting for me in the shadows.
And that was entirely because the man I loved was right beside me.
Charlie and I left shortly after dawn the next morning.
I packed light, shoving only the essentials into my backpack before strapping the firearm to my shoulder holster and departing. I’d called and left Leonard a message that I’d be hiking out early, citing a shortage of groceries. It left the entire west side of the national park unmonitored, but Tate was anxious for Charlie to meet with his grandmother, and neither of us wanted a repeat of last night.
I turned back just before entering the tree line and peered up at the lookout. Sunlight poured through the eastern-facing windowpanes, casting a glow inside the tower, almost like magic.
A part of me wanted to climb back up and live with Charlie in that ethereal light forever.
We couldn’t, though, and nothing was more of a stark reminder than the darkness that waited when we stepped under the thick canopy of trees.
A monster had robbed me of the joy I felt beneath the pine-laden branches of this forest, and while small compared to his other transgressions, it was one I personally resented him for.
I took Charlie’s hand, linking our fingers together, and stepped into that darkness.
“How are you feeling?” I asked once we’d walked for a bit.
“Good. No different than I do at the tower.”
I nodded, thankful for that at least. I had many worries about what awaited us in the next few days, but it was a relief to know Charlie wasn’t trapped inside the lookout anymore.
“Let’s practice for when you go to rest, and see if you really can find me.”
He squeezed my hand. “Alright. Be right back.”
And then he blinked away.
I slowed my pace, already mentally preparing to hoof it back to the tower if he didn’t appear in the next minute or two. Without him next to me, the reality that I now hiked through the same woods a serial killer disappeared into last night slithered into my mind.
What if he were still here? Watching? Waiting until I was alone?
My breath shortened, and my gaze darted around, looking for any sign of movement. How long had it been since Charlie disappeared? Ten seconds? Twenty?
He should be back by now.
“Charlie?” I called. My voice carried through the trees, dead pine boughs and twigs crunching under my boots as I turned. “Charlie—ooph!”
I toppled to the ground, weighed down by the man who’d suddenly appeared out of thin air nearly on top of me.
“Found you!” Charlie said, coughing.
“You certainly did,” I wheezed.
He cringed down from where he sprawled over me, limbs a tangled mess and covered in dirt and leaves. “Sorry. I was in a rush to get back; it’s usually easier to tell what’s going on around me before I fully show up.”
“As much as I don’t hate this,” I said, picking a twig out of his hair and shifting my hips into his, “your elbow is somewhere in my abdominal cavity, and I stopped romanticizing outdoor sex years ago.”
