Enough to give myself freedom to chase her when she runs.
Enough to let her think she has a chance if she does.
Her feet angle towards my cabin like she thinks she might beat me there and lock me out. It’s cute, the tiniest signs of hope she displays.
“You live here?” she calls, her voice loud enough to bounce off the granite rocks around me.
Defiant and sassy as all hell.
I love her attitude. This is going to be fun.
“This is private property.” I suppose I’m supposed to put on a show of humanity or some other bullshit around what’s probably a local girl or some tourist out to climb the mountains.
In winter. With snow coming on that’s been holding off for a week or more this season already.
Christ. She must have a death wish.
Where the hell is her pack?
“People don’t usually come out here.”
There’s a reason I’m out this far on my own, honey. A man like me isn’t fit for human consumption.
Especially not for a woman like you.
She might have figured that out on her own by now. Not that it seems to deter her.
“People might, but I do. I’m looking for someone.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Not anyone else is out here to be found.”
“Who says I’m looking for anyone else?” The sassy tone is back in her voice.
That sass calls to me like honey.
I’m so fucked just looking at her that it takes a moment too long for her words to register. “Why are you out here?” My rifle rises. I relax my grip with effort.
That rifle has been an extension of my arm for decades. It kept me safe in deserts that contain sand that’s a different color to this country. Shit, I can still taste that pink dust on the back of my tongue on nights when it’s snowing outside and too damn damp for grit to be fucking anywhere. But it's damn well there anyway.
That rifle stayed with me all the way home. I nursed it on my lap right next to the box that held my best friend. The only time I put it down was to kneel before his mother and beg her forgiveness.
Then I brought my ass up north and walked away from the rest of the world.
I’ve been here ever since, and that rifle has saved my life countless times. Kept me fed, too. Now, that same rifle feelsheavy in my grip. For the first time, I wonder if I’ve been holding on to it too tightly.
“Who are you looking for, honey?” I ask softly.
Too softly.
Her chin rises.
She’s all sass and filthy from her walk up my mountain. Dirty in all the right sort of ways. When she pops a hip with the sort of smile that promises sin, my blood runs hot despite my inner reflections.
The effects this woman has on me, when I don't even know her name, is insanity itself.
“You’re Gabriel Decker, right?” She watches me carefully.
I nod slowly. She knows my name. That’s…something new. A game changer for sure. I keep my grip on my rifle all the same.
