Page 22 of Unleashed

“I promise I will.” When the cab reached Erika’s building, I helped her out with a hug, watching as she waved goodbye.

“Call me when you get back to civilization,” she called over her shoulder. “I want to know you’re still alive.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, flashing a grin before disappearing into the building.

As the cab continued on to Tribeca, I felt the weight of the pack on my lap—a reminder of the adventure ahead and the distance I was putting between myself and everything that had come before.

The next morning,I rented a car, aiming to drive up to Bear Mountain. The plan was simple—hike as far north as I could in ten days, from Putnam to Dutchess County, and then rent a car to get back to Manhattan. I didn’t know how far I’d get, but it didn’t matter. All I wanted was to escape.

As I crossed the George Washington Bridge, leaving the city behind, the scenery shifted from the urban grind to something quieter, more peaceful. The Hudson River glinted throughbreaks in the trees, a sharp contrast to the concrete jungle I’d just left. The Palisades loomed to my right, towering cliffs that paralleled my route.

By the time I reached Bear Mountain, I was more than ready to get started. Glide Ride, the rental company, would pick up the car wherever I left it—one less thing to worry about. I strapped on my backpack, feeling the familiar weight settle on my shoulders, and headed to a nearby water station to fill up my CamelBak. The extra water added pounds to my pack, but in the June heat, I wasn’t taking chances.

Once on the trail, the world fell into its natural rhythm—just the crunch of dirt beneath my boots and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The river views were breathtaking, sunlight dancing on the water as I snapped a few photos. The trail wasn’t empty; hikers passed with their dogs or kids in tow, nodding in silent camaraderie.

After hours of hiking, I reached Anthony’s Nose, an outcrop with a panoramic view of the valley below. I stopped, wiping sweat from my brow, when I heard it—my name, cutting through the wind.

“Morgan!”

I spun around, confused. Slade Abbott was walking toward me. What the hell?

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—scruff covering his jaw, his brown eyes dark with exhaustion. He wore tan cargo shorts, a blue t-shirt, and hiking boots, his backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. He was clearly out of his element.

I narrowed my eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Slade raised his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t be like that. I miss you.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I’m on vacation. I don’t have time for your petty bullshit. How did you even find me?”

“I know, I’ve been a dick,” he said, ignoring my question. “I thought I could change your mind... but after all these years, I should’ve known better. You’re stubborn, Morgan Kincaid. Downright impossible sometimes. But I’m not giving up.”

I stared at him, incredulous. “You still haven’t answered how you found me.”

He smirked. “You left your itinerary on your desk at work before you quit. I saw it. Got here a couple hours ago and figured I’d wait for you to show up.”

I scowled, the irritation growing. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

Slade shrugged. “Not really. But you wouldn’t abandon a novice, would you?”

Part of me wanted to scream at him. The other part—though I hated to admit it—was relieved. Hiking alone had its perks, but sometimes... maybe a companion wasn’t so bad. Even if that companion was Slade Abbott.

I sighed. “Fine. I guess you’re my responsibility now. But where are you going?”

“Wherever you are,” he said simply.

“Let’s go, then,” I muttered, adjusting my pack and stepping back onto the trail. “I hope you can keep up. I’m not stopping until it’s almost dark.”

“I can handle it,” Slade said, falling into step beside me.

“Sure you can,” I said, glancing sideways at him. He met my gaze, determination written on his face.

God help me, this was going to be a long hike.

The truth was,Slade Abbott, city boy through and through, couldn’t handle it. By the time we stopped for the night, hewinced as he pulled off his boot, revealing a blister the size of a dime on his heel. His groan echoed through the quiet wilderness while I focused on setting up the tent.

"You didn’t break your boots in first, did you?" I asked, not bothering to hide my exasperation.

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