Page 42 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

Come morning, I’ll have some explaining to do, provided I decide to return. That’s a silly thought, given how deeply my heart aches whenever I think of leaving the Hayes brothers.

But the truth is out there—somewhere.

Carefully, I steer the Range Rover down the mountain road in the dark. Snow drifts flank the road along with generations-old pine trees. Silence and stars aplenty twinkle above.

Finally, I reach the main road, relieved to feel the wheels gliding along actual pavement. Snow is piled up on either side, some off-white, some dark brown. The Range Rover’s tires crunch over road salt. Good. It means the county is clearing up and moving forward.

So must I.

I follow the road signs into Seeley Lake, driving along the edge of the vast dark water before I reach the town itself. It looks beautiful. Silent. Cold. One might find mysteries beneath its tranquil surface, but this place doesn’t have any secrets, just mountain folks and hard-working people.

Pulling over outside the sheriff’s office, I need to take a deep breath. Why is my heart racing? It’s probably because I’m about to get to the truth. I’m about to find out what the Hayes brothers have been keeping from me. Their intentions are good and noble, but I can’t live in the dark anymore.

I take one step toward the station’s front door. The lights are on inside. There’s a deputy in there on duty.

But the sound of rushing footsteps makes me turn my head.

“There you are!” a man snarls and rams his fist into my stomach.

I cough and groan, doubling over from the pain. I fall to my knees, oblivious to the cold as a crippling fear takes over. Heat spreads through my torso, and I look up. He’s tall and dark-haired, with cold blue eyes, and he hates me. That much is obvious. That and his snappy suit. He’s not from these parts.

“You stupid bitch,” he snarls and kicks me in the side.

“Stop!” I cry out, trying to shield myself from what’s coming.

But the punch in the gut knocks the wind out of me. I see stars at the corners of my eyes, and I can’t focus. A piercing pain slashes through my skull.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me? I was stuck here in the fucking blizzard, waiting for you to come out,” the man snaps. “Weeks spent fucking waiting because you just wouldn’t fucking die.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh I heard the rumors from your dick-hungry neighbor, Breonna,” he says, and mimics her in an obnoxious fashion as he takes out a gun and mounts a silencer on its muzzle. “Poor soul can’t remember a thing, boo-fucking-hoo.”

“I don’t understand,” I manage, struggling to crawl away and put some distance between us. “I don’t remember…”

“Which is the sad part, because I wish you recognized me. I wish I could see the look of realization in your eyes when you finally understand there’s not a hole deep and dark enough that you can hide from me, Anya.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the man who’s gonna do what my brother keeps dragging his ass about,” he scoffs and points the gun at my head. “I’m not gonna drag you back to New York. Leo’s got his own plans, but they’re just fucking whims. We’ve got a business to run, and every breath you draw turns you into a bigger problem. So, Anya, be at peace knowing it’s not pers—”

POP!

He stills as a bullet pierces his chest.

Blood sprays outward. I smell it right away.

I can’t move.

He’s shocked. He looks down at me with wide, glassy eyes as he bleeds from his chest. A crimson rose blooms across his shirt, and he falls to his knees. A split second later, he’s face-down in the snow. Dead.

And I still can’t move. All I can do is stare at him. “Oh, my God,” I whisper.

“Anya.”

Only now do I see Chance coming toward me, the gun still smoking in his hand. He runs, picking up speed as he holsters the pistol under his coat and slides down on his knees to reach my side. I’m in pain, but my mind fires in rapid sequences, my brain trying to catch up.

“Chance…”

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