Page 32 of Shadow of Misty Mountain

“I should hate you,” I say finally, my voice low. “Why don’t I? I’m not angry at you. All I am is incredibly sad for all of you.”

“I didn’t want to leave him,” Travis says, his voice steady, sharp. “He made the call. It was the only way any of us survived. As long as there is someone left to remember, their spirits remain free.”

“You never told me. Never told anyone.”

He shakes his head. “Because if I had, it would’ve put a target on you. And it looks like even staying quiet didn’t work.”

I take a breath and lean back against the wall, my heart thudding like I’ve just run ten miles through the snow. I look at him, really look, and I know he’s not lying. Everything in his body language says truth. It’s brutal. It’s ugly. But it’s real.

He carries it like it’s burned into his bones.

“I keep thinking about the journal,” I say slowly.

His brow furrows. “Nick’s?”

I nod. “He told me to find you if anything ever happened. But there was more. He had me make a go bag—fake IDs, cash, a burner phone… and that field journal.”

“You still have it?”

“I hid the bag in the Jeep. Before I came to the cabin. I keep the journal with me. If Nick left it,” I say, thinking out loud, “and Carlton knew it existed—knew Nick told me something, or left something for me—then it makes sense why they came after me.Carlton doesn’t know what Nick wrote. He’s trying to clean up the last of the mess.”

Travis is silent for a beat. Then: “And you’re the mess.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“You know what I mean.” He strokes my hair. “But you’re my mess and you’re beautiful.”

I blush. “I do know, and thanks… I think. I’ve been thinking,” I say, my mind already racing ahead. “He’s still out there, right? Watching, waiting. He sent a sniper to take me/us out. That failed. He’s going to try again.”

“Yeah,” Travis says darkly. “He will.”

“Then let him.”

He straightens, jaw going tight. “No.”

“We use me as bait.”

“Abby.”

I step toward him, unflinching. “You said it yourself. He’s coming. He’s already watching. If we do nothing, he’s in control. But if we make a move, it’ll draw him out and put control in our court.”

He stares at me like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Because he knows I’m right.

“If I go out in public—just briefly—he’ll show his hand,” I add. “You know he has to have someone—if not himself—watching Misty Mountain. He’s scared of what I might have… what I might know… what Nick left behind.”

“You do not know how dangerous this man is.”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Nick trusted me to finish this. I’m not backing down. And you’re not doing it without me.”

Travis closes the space between us in two strides. His eyes flash with that thing I’ve come to recognize—command, control, protect. I know the man standing in front of me would level an army to keep me safe. But I’m not asking him to do this alone… I won’t let him.

“You think I don’t want to keep you locked away until this is over?” he growls, eyes drilling into mine. “You think I don’t lie awake at night calculating every possible angle—every shot, every window, every weakness they could use against you?”

“I know you do,” I whisper. “But you’re not the only one in this fight anymore.”

The silence stretches between us, heavy and full of things we don’t say. Then he exhales sharply and nods once.

“Fine,” he says. “We do this my way. No improvising. No running off. You don’t move unless I say so.”

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