Page 36 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

I need air.

It’s just a dream, I tell myself again, willing my racing heart to slow. Just a dream.

But even as the words echo in my head, I can't shake the feeling that the line between reality and fantasy is blurring—and that maybe, just maybe, there's more going on with them.

As I crawl out of the tent, the cool night air hits me like a slap in the face, clearing my head only slightly. The forest around me is alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, and the buzz of bugs in the air. I take a deep breath.

It’s almost sunrise.

No point in going back to bed now. The sooner I get the evidence I need, the sooner I can stop having these intense fever dreams and go back home. Away from these people.

I’ll take the footage to the conservatory today. It’s not much. But it’s a start.

10

JT

Ilean against the weathered wooden railing of the porch, the rough texture biting into my palms as I stare out at the forest. The sun is dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows that stretch across the front yard. It’s been a long day—hell, it’s been a long few weeks.

I hear the creak of the screen door opening behind me and glance over my shoulder to see Hank stepping out onto the porch. He’s got that look on his face, the one that says he’s carrying the same burden I am but doesn’t want to talk about it.

I wait a beat.

“You figure out what Ben’s been up to?” I ask, keeping my voice low and steady.

Hank doesn’t answer right away. He steps up beside me, leaning on the railing, his eyes fixed ahead.

“Did you hear me?” I repeat, staring him down. He’s a million miles away from me right now.

“What?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Ben, our brother. Did you find anything?”

“Oh…yeah. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what I said.” He keeps his gaze locked onto the forest. He’s hiding something.

“Hank, cut the bullshit, alright? I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs again, longer this time, like he’s dragging the words out of some deep well within him.

I know something’s going on.

They’ve been acting off ever since Mac showed up.

“Hank—" I pry,

After a pause, he finally opens his mouth.

“I followed him out into the woods the other day. He’s been meeting up with Mac.” He speaks fast to get all the words out at once.

I turn to him, surprised by the admission. “Mac? What the hell’s he doing with her?”

“Hell if I know.”

There’s a bitterness in his voice that I don’t miss, and it makes me wonder if there’s more to this than he’s letting on. We’re triplets, after all—and I can read him like a book, both of them. But right now, he’s got pages he’s not letting me see.

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