Page 1 of Carlos: Trilogy: Part Two

PROLOGUE

Zoe Rutterson jumped at the sharp, unexpected rapping on the front door. Her eyes immediately flew over to where her toddler son lay, sleeping soundlessly in his crib on the far side of the one-room cabin.

Brooke, the mountain woman who had been dropping off supplies to Zoe, pulled a revolver out from the small of her back. It was early fall and the mountain air was growing cooler. Brooke and the others who dwelled on this mountain were helping Zoe prepare for her second long winter. Though daunting that she and Kyle would be stuck in the cabin for four to six months, it was also a relief. The same harsh winter weather that kept them secluded on the mountain, would keep others off the mountain.

Still, she had to continuously remind herself that she’d survived last winter: she could survive this one too.

Brooke was taller than Zoe, around five-seven. She had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her skin was naturally tanned from long hours in the mountain sun. She was also more of a badass than Zoe could ever hope to be. The former NYPD detective had created a living for herself on this Montana mountain. She and her fellow mountaineers worked with a local in town named Jack to help protect those who needed a home, a safe haven. Zoe didn’t know the full extent of their network, and honestly, didn’t want to. She was no warrior woman—not like this Brooke.

The woman looked like she could hold her own against any opponent without her gun. In comparison, Zoe had allowed herself to be verbally and physically abused by her husband for three plus years. He’d forced her to have sex with him when he desired, even immediately after she’d given birth to their son. Brooke was so strong. She weathered and thrived in this harsh environment like she was born to the wilderness.

Zoe could never see a woman like Brooke being at the mercy of any man.

Brooke approached the door with caution. The handgun frightened Zoe, but then again, she’d only ever held a gun once in her life—the morning she’d murdered her husband.

Brooke threw the door open, her gun trained on whoever was outside. Zoe was standing in front of her son’s crib and could not see the doorway. She could see Brooke lower her gun, though. “Jack didn’t say you were coming.”

A man entered the cabin. He was average height for a man with sandy brown hair cropped in a military fashion. His eyes were almost golden, a unique shade of amber. They brightened when they landed on her.

Since the abuse started in her marriage, there had only been one man whom Zoe felt entirely safe with: Conner.

He’d been the one to set in motion the events that had led to her being in a cabin in the middle of a Montana mountain. Mind, his plan had been to get her and her son away from her abusive husband instead of having to break her out of police custody after she’d shot her husband, but the end result was essentially the same.

“What are you doing here?” Zoe rushed forward to meet him. “Based on your last letter, you weren’t coming for another couple of weeks.”

“I was able to get leave early,” he answered with a soft smile. “I know it’s coming up on the one-year anniversary and I wanted to be here for you.”

A year… Somehow, it had been a year since she’d murdered her husband. The date had snuck up on her. She hadn’t been paying attention. Time seemed to have little meaning on the mountain.

The fact that Conner had taken leave so he could be here to support her, though… Well, that just filled her chest with warmth. She didn’t know what else to say except, “Thank you,” because she meant it.

Brooke moved towards the open cabin door, tucking her gun into the small of her back again. “Clara, I’ll be going now. Remember, you have three go-bags in the woods.” She pointed in the direction of each of the three. “Get Kyle, get a bag, and run. Send up a flare when you can.”

Zoe nodded once. Brooke and the rest of the mountain men only knew her by her alias of Clara Everwood and her son as Kyle. She didn’t know if Jack knew her real name, but suspected he did. “Thank you for everything, Brooke.”

Conner waited for Brooke to leave before he turned to Zoe. “Is everything okay? Why is she telling you about go-bags and flares?”

Zoe shook her head. “Everything’s fine. She says the same thing every time before she leaves. I think of it as her parting line.”

Conner still looked worried. “No one should know you’re here. Jack hasn’t said anything to me otherwise.”

“She’s just being cautious,” Zoe assured him. “Come in, sit down. I’m sure you’re tired from your trip. I feel bad that you’re torn between coming here and staying with your grandpa.”

“Owen is going to see him,” Conner told her as he sat on her small couch.

The cabin was a single room with a kitchenette, a fireplace, a couch, a kitchen table, a queen bed, a dresser, and Kyle’s crib. She was getting better at referring to her son as ‘Kyle’. It helped that she did not want to call her son the name of her dead husband. She had never liked that Kyle had been named after Davis, but she hadn’t been given the choice on what her son’s name would be. She had no doubt that Davis would have cared if Kyle had been born a girl. He’d been very vocal about needing to have a son. As soon as it was known that they were having a boy, Davis had announced their son’s name without even asking her if she had a different one in mind.

She’d always liked Andy or Andrew. ‘Kyle’ was a nice name, but again, not one she would have chosen if she was re-naming her son.

“Does Owen take on your identity when he goes?” Zoe had been holding in that question for a long time. Owen was Conner’s twin brother. As far as the world knew, he was dead, killed in action years ago. Zoe had been with Mr. Arnold, the twins’ grandfather, when he’d gotten the news that one of his grandsons had been killed.

Then, last year, Zoe had been let in on the secret: Owen wasn’t dead. She didn’t know why he’d faked his death or how, but she knew she was only one of a few people in the world who knew that Owen was still alive.

Conner nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I was able to get here. I have an alibi if anyone questions where I go on my leave.”

Zoe bit her lip. “Can I ask… I mean, it’s really none of my business, but was Owen ever you when I was working at the nursing home?”

Conner studied her for a long minute before he admitted, “Twice. I don’t think he had any interaction specifically with you. If you’re asking which one of us confronted you about your bruises and told you to call me if you ever needed anything, that was me.”

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