Page 70 of Mine to Protect

I blanched. He made it sound like it was a fault to be so connected to the animals. Without replying, I shook my head and started down the trail once again.

“Wait up.”

Okay, maybe I was a tad over the top when it came to them. Naming them was a little strange, and putting my safety in jeopardy to save them could be seen as foolish. But they’d always been there for me, offering the serenity, the escape I’d needed the past ten years. Animals didn’t know evil, didn’t seek me out just to hurt me. No, that was only humans. So yeah, maybe I had shifted the connection most people had with other humans to animals, but that wasn’t a bad thing. It was survival. Because even though I’d been alone for a while now, I was never really alone. Not with them.

They gave to me what I couldn’t accept from anyone else.

“Alta, I said to wait the fuck up,” Cas shouted from several feet back. His loud grunts as he scaled the rocks and trotted down the trail penetrated through the quiet.

Shaking my head, something farther up caught my eye. Slowing my steps, I drew closer, narrowing my eyes to try and see better. Another step closer. Then a loud gasp pushed from my lungs. My eyes widened in shock and disgust as the realization hit of what I was looking at. Turning to scream for Cas, my cheek smacked into his chest. Instinctively I wrapped both arms around his waist, burying my face in his shirt.

“What—” Cas cursed under his breath. “It’s okay. You’re safe, Lady.”

His consoling words and soft, rhythmic strokes along my spine did nothing to erase the horrific display behind me.

23

Alta

“Shhh, it’s okay, Lady,”Cas whispered over and over in my ear while his hand stroked down my back. But my heart continued to race faster as the image of the murder scene behind me continued to flash in my mind.

“It’s in my head. It’s not real. It’s not real,” I whispered into his shirt. “Tell me I’m crazy.”

Rough calluses scraped down my damp cheek, but he didn’t make a move to push me away from the safety of his hold. “You’re not crazy. I see it.”

“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is,” I choked out. “Please tell me someone didn’t….” I couldn’t finish the thought.

Seconds ticked by before he responded. “They did.”

The sob I held in broke loose, rattling my shoulders as tears poured out of the corners of my closed eyes. The image of the poor murdered chipmunks flashed before my eyes, causing bile to churn in my stomach.

“It’s meant for me, isn’t it?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Someone had killed and staged them in the heart shape, and we were the only ones on the remote trail that afternoon.

“We need to get out of here,” Cas said before peeling me from his strong chest, dark eyes searching mine. “We’ll have to walk past it. Do you want me to carry you?”

I shook my head even though I desperately wanted to say yes. Long fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed. Keeping my eyes focused on the rocky terrain, I followed each of Cas’s footsteps. Where he stepped, I stepped. Taking a wide diversion, we climbed back onto the trail minutes later.

“I… I need to… I need to stop,” I breathed and shook my hand loose of his. My knees slammed onto the rock. My breaths turned to short pants, each eager inhale demanding more and more oxygen. At my side, Cas spoke, but the words were muffled like my ears were filled with cotton. I peered up, hoping he could talk me through the panic attack like he did last night, but instead of finding him, my gaze zeroed in on the disturbing display.

A flick of movement caught my eye.

Then another.

I gasped. My hand flew up to my mouth to suppress a gag.

“What?” Cas roared and wheeled around to where I pointed with the hand not clasped against my lips. “What the fuck is it, Alta? Talk to me.”

“They’re….” I turned and dry heaved. Fist kneading my stomach, I tried to breathe through my nose and out my mouth. “They’re not dead,” I finally got out. At my words, I pivoted and gagged again.

Some sick, deranged person left injured, suffering, innocent chipmunks. For me.

As a sign of love, hate, or maybe a bit of both, which I learned a long time ago was called obsession.

Cas took one step toward the injured animals, then turned back with his brows furrowed and lips pursed deep in thought. Closing the space between us once again, he shoved his gun into my hands and wrapped my fingers around the grip. “I’m going to take care of it.” A loud, painful whimper made his concerned wrinkles deepen. “Hold it together, okay? I need you to hold it together for a few more minutes. If you see anything, shoot, you hear me?”

Shock overtook my body and began the process of shutting it down little by little. My fingers and toes were the first to tingle, then grow numb. All outside noises ceased; only the steady rhythm of my pulse thundering in my ears remained. The grip of the gun felt weightless in my palm while the scene around me blurred.

Something gripped my shoulders and shook me forward and backward. My neck stopped wanting to hold up my head, allowing it to loll from side to side with each jostle. I needed to pull out of it, wanted to be strong, but I was tired. So, so tired.

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