Chapter 1
Liz
The fire had burned down to a lazy orange glow, and I’d been telling myself for the last twenty minutes that I should put it out and crawl into my tent. My brain kept whispering that I should be asleep by now instead of staring at flames as if they held the answers to my entire messed-up life.
Two more days. That was the plan. Two more days out here, breathing pine-scented air and pretending that isolation was the same thing as self-care, and then I’d return to civilization. Find a motel. Figure out what came next. Maybe apply for jobs I was overqualified for or call my mother and admit that yes, the wedding was off, and no, I didn’t want to talk about it.
The crackling of the fire was the only sound for miles. That, and my own breathing, which had finally slowed to something resembling calm after five days of hypervigilance.
My first campsite had been a mistake. It was too close to the RV park. The first night, I’d heard voices, and I’d packed up so fast I wasn’t completely sure I hadn’t left trash behind.
Could it have been lovers out for a late-night stroll? Sure. But it was better to be safe than sorry.
This spot was better. An hour’s hike down a trail that barely deserved the name. It was secluded and a place where a woman could actually relax.
Well, maybe not any woman. I used to love camping and hiking, so it seemed like a good plan to do something I enjoyed.
My eyes were getting heavy. The heat from the fire was nice at first, but now my face felt flushed. Why was it that every warm, comfortable moment had the potential to turn into a hot flash? I fanned myself with my hand and tried to remember the last time I’d felt this tired.
Something snapped.
I went still. Every muscle in my body locked into place, my hand still half-raised in front of my face. The sound had come from behind me, where the trees grew thicker and the moonlight barely penetrated the canopy.
Probably a deer. Or a raccoon. Or any of the dozens of perfectly harmless creatures that lived in forests and made perfectly normal forest sounds.
Another snap. Closer this time.
A low voice, too far away to make out words but definitely a voice. Definitely human. Definitely male.
My body caught up with my brain’s alarm bells.
I turned and saw him.
Naked.
Completely, entirely naked.
My eyes went wide, and the scream that came out of me was not dignified. It was not a scream that suggested a forty-three-year-old woman who had once managed a construction company and calmly told her ex-fiancé that he could take his gambling problem and his empty promises and get out of her life.
It was high and shrill and entirely primal, the sound humans made when their lizard brains decided that the situation had gone beyond manageable and straight into existential threat.
I was on my feet before I’d consciously decided to move. I ran through scenarios in my head: he was some random hiker who’d gotten lost, a serial killer who’d picked my isolated fire as the perfect hunting ground, or a frat bro who’d gotten drunk and wandered away from his friends.
The man certainly wasn’t college-aged from what I could tell—which wasn’t much without my glasses. Beyond a certain distance, everything went soft, and right now, “tall, naked, and terrifying” was the best description I could manage.
He held up his hands, one fist clenched around something.
His wadded-up thong? A half-eaten psychedelic mushroom?
He took a step toward me.
I did not wait to see what he wanted or what he had in his hand.
I pulled my bear spray out of my pocket and fumbled with the safety. In all my years of camping and hiking, I’d never had to use it. There was a first time for everything.
I squeezed the trigger in his general direction, and while it wasn’t close enough to hit him directly, it was enough to create a cloud between us and buy myself a few precious seconds.
Then I ran.
