Chapter One
Violet
Growing up, I was taught to question everything. My mother calls it necessary hypervigilance. My father calls it common sense. Either way, it’s become a way of life, a mantra that I live by, a part of my DNA that’s so ingrained that I’d say it’s a detriment.
For instance, yesterday was a bright, sunny day. The temperature was perfect. I had a great song stuck in my head… you know that new one by Jason Aldean. Well, I’m singing the chorus over and over, and then there’s this woman. She looks to be pregnant; I’d say five months. Long brown hair, light eyes, a pierced nose, and a tattoo on her left arm of a dragon. Anyway, I watched a man follower her through every aisle of the grocery store. He was watching… waiting. She didn’t notice a thing. I figured I had two choices. I could follow the woman out and tell her about the guy, or I could assume I was a neurotic lunatic and let the woman be on her way.
I chose to follow.Turns out, the man was her husband. They were arguing, and she didn’t appreciate the intrusion.
That’s not where it ends, though. In a crowd of people, I’ve been trained to notice every noise, every movement, every person coming in and out of a space. I don’t have a filter either. I can’t choose to stop just one source of this vigilance. It’s all or nothing, and despite the fact that my parents meant well with raising me like a veteran CIA agent, I’m exhausted.
I park my truck at the corner of the hiking lot and hop out, grabbing my backpack from the cab before making my way toward the truck parked on the other end of the lot. It’s a black pickup truck which looks typical for the area, but I’m guessing it’s a rental. I’m expecting a man I’ve been talking to for the last couple of months.
Yes, we met online.
Yes, I know it’s not safe to meet him alone.
Yes, I realize I probably shouldn’t have agreed to take him on a guided hike without telling anyone.
These are the answers I give my brain as it questions my decisions in a slow circle of mind-numbing interrogation. Before I can talk myself out of it, the man cracks his car door and steps out.
My breath hitches. He’s going to look different. I know he’s going to look different. Every photo I’ve seen of him has been flawless. I’m talking God-like flawlessness. I’m talking‘why would he talk to me’kind of flawlessness. I guess it’s fine if he looks different. Looks aren’t what matters, but he would have lied about it, and I guess that counts.
Okay, head, stop spinning!
“Violet.” The man’s voice is deep and brooding as he steps from his truck. His voice is the same soul crushing deepness it was on the phone. My heart patters with excitement as he steps out from behind the door and leans in toward me for a hug.
He smells like the woods after a campfire. Like fresh cut cedar or pine with a musk I can’t define but want all over me. That, and he’s tall. Taller than I expected. I’d guess six foot four inches, and the muscles look as defined and strong as they did in the photos. His eyes are a dark brown that are both warm and inviting and his hair is strung with salt and pepper. He’s hot, maybe even hotter than the pictures.
“Thank you for rescheduling so many times. I was afraid you’d think I was a weirdo or something after the third time.”
I shake my head, disobeying the internal voice that’s sending alarms to run. Nothing about this is right. First off, he could do better than me. Second, he did reschedule multiple times, which is weird. Third, he obviously doesn’t need a guide for this trail. He’s dressed like an avid hiker in worn boots, camo pants, a black tee, and a camel pack for hydration. Most people that hire my services come dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Heck, sometimes they come in sandals. Those people Ibelieveneed a guide. This guy… no way. Truthfully, though, I can’t let my stomach get to me. I need this to be a good trip, a break from the norm, a chance at whatever this business was building to be.
“He’s given you no reason not to trust him,”I say to myself, as I tighten my backpack in place.“In fact, you’ve had nothing but good conversation since you started talking three months ago. Hell, at one point, you thought he was going to ask you on a date.”I let out a heavy sigh and look toward him, happy when the pep talk I’ve been giving myself is over.
“It’s no problem,” I finally say, unsure if I’m lying or not.
He smiles, resting his hand on the butt of a handgun that’s tucked into a holster on his waist.
It’s not uncommon for folks up here to carry guns. In fact, most mountain folk would think you were crazy for not carrying, but something about the whole thing makes my stomach turn again. Maybe I should listen.
“Shut up, Violet!” I chastise myself under my breath. I wonder what I must look like to him, having a conversation with myself as he stares back at me politely. Maybe he’s more scared of me than I am of him.
“I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” He slides his hand over the silver magnum in his holster. “It’s for protection. I hear there are a lot of bears up on the mountain this time of year. People say they aren’t afraid of anything up here.”
It’s true, they aren’t. Most bears in the area are so used to hikers, miners, and fisherman that they’ll walk right up to you out of curiosity, but I’m not sure that’s reason enough to bring a gun. Maybe that’s just my mountain upbringing, but I’ve always known to stay away and avoid the trails they use.
“Not at all,” I lie again. “I have one too, just in case of emergencies.” I pat my backpack as though I have my gun in tow, but I don’t. I was taught to shoot when I was three, but I don’t like carrying it. Instead, I bring bear spray, which I’m not sure will have the same effect in any situation against a gun.
Hawk laughs. “Got it. Sorry if I scared you. I was hoping our meeting would be smooth.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I say, doing the people pleasing thing I do in order to hide the million things I’m truly thinking about. “My parents own a private investigator firm in town, so I’ve seen it all.”
He nods and trudges up the hill beside me, our boots suctioning mud side by side. “What? You never told me that. That must have been a fun way to grow up.”
I laugh. “Fun?More like paranoid. I spend more time worrying about a situation than I do enjoying it, and as a last-ditch effort, I started this business. Fingers crossed that coming back to nature will undo the years of training I’ve been taught.”
Leaves rustle against the wind and a few branches snap as we walk. “I could see that working.” He smiles, flipping his ballcap backward. Why did he do that? He’s trying to turn me on. He wants me excited. “I could also see how tiring an upbringing like that could be. I grew up with a marine as a dad and he didn’t know how to compartmentalize anything. We’d be having family dinner, and he’d tell us all about some raid he did or firefight he got into.”