Page 5 of Silk and Steel

Then she just leaves, walking away and getting into her cruiser and driving off. I stand there, waffling between abject terror and gruesome despair.

“Thanks for nothing,” I mutter before going inside. I lock every door, every window, and double check my security camera footage to make sure Julian hasn’t snuck in while I was out. Even after I ensure it’s safe, and Julian is nowhere to be found, I’m still terrified.

Private security…wait a minute, my friend Charlotte, the influencer, is dating a guy who works in private security. What was the name of that firm?

I dig through my contacts, until I find the name and number. Platinum Security. Well, that’s subtle. Still, I don’t care if they call themselves super ultra awesome security, as long as they keep me safe from Julian.

Instead of calling them directly though, I decide to call Charlotte. To my surprise, she answers on the first ring.

“Hey Em! How are ya?”

“Hi, Charlotte,” I say, smiling weakly at the sound of her voice. “I’m kind of in a jam and need your help…”

2

COLE

Sunlight slides in through the branches overhead as I stalk down the game trail in Angeles Forest. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Avoid stepping on soft ground, or underbrush that might make a noise. Hold the canteen so it doesn’t rattle.

I’ve hunted hundreds of times in this forest, but I keep coming back. I fall into the ancient rhythms of predator and prey without trying. My heart rate is calm, but I’m on the edge of readiness.

I drop into a crouch beneath the boughs of an oak tree. My gloved hand pulls back fallen leaves to reveal fresh deer feces. I’m not far from my quarry.

Rising up, my nostrils test the air. I can smell yesterday’s rain on the breeze, but not much else. Picking my way along the trail, I keep my eyes open and scanning, always scanning.

Then, I spot it: A beautiful ten point buck, his golden brown coat crowned with a ring of black near his neck. A venerable king of the forest, he’s far from his prime but still canny enough to get his doe every mating season.

Unfortunately, this King’s time has passed. It’s time to commit a little Regicide. I raise the gun and prepare to look through the scope.

I don’t know what stops me, exactly. Maybe I spot something out of the corner of my eye, or maybe I’ve just been in enough hairy situations to know when I’m in danger. For whatever reason, I don’t take the shot. I carefully check my surroundings. Something isn’t right.

If I hadn’t stopped to check, I’d have never noticed it. A tawny-furred mountain lion, creeping slowly through the underbrush, body low to the ground, and ears flat against its head.

At first, I think it’s after my deer. Then I realize, I’m the prey.

What a twist.

I grit my teeth in frustration. Anything I do to scare off or stop the mountain lion will surely alert the deer, too. I’ve been tracking it for ten miles. I don’t want to lose it now.

I make a quick motion with my hand, staring right at the lion in hopes it will flee. But our gazes meet, and I can tell that it’s going to take much more to get rid of it. It already thinks I’m its next dinner.

As deadly as they are, these lions are endangered. I’m not about to kill it if I don't have to. That’s me, Cole Drake, altruist and animal lover.

“Hsst,” I say as softly as possible. “Go away!”

The damn thing crouches down like it’s about to spring on me. I have no choice. I raise the rifle and aim the barrel about five feet over the lion’s head and fire. Loud cracks echo through the forest.

My would-be predator runs to the hills. Unfortunately, so does my deer. I watch it bound away and disappear into the foliage.

“Damn it. Not my kind of cougar.”

I sling the rifle over my shoulder and turn around, marching back down the game trail. Some hunters go years between bagging a buck. I get at least one every season.

Until this one.

Maybe I’ve lost my touch. It’s been rough ever since that night in the Red Sea…best not to think about that.

I try to put failing to bag my deer behind me. Figuratively and literally. I’m not an enlisted man any longer. I’m a civvie now. A civvie with more issues than Rolling Stone.

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