Their Mountain Captive by Kayla Wren

14

Roxy

We leave the motel before dawn. God knows we’ve lingered here long enough, boxed up inside these water-stained walls with the musty carpet, but somehow I’m still sad to go.

Something big happened in there. Something I’ll never forget.

Something wonderful.

I laid awake most of the night, chewing on the inside of my cheek and thinking it over. And over. And over. Wrestling with what sort of person this makes me, and if I’m okay with it, and whether I even care. What it means for all of us. Whether it means anything at all.

Oh, well. We haven’t hurt anyone. Only each other. And overall, there’s been more pleasure than pain.

“I’m sorry about your camera.” Dante leans against the motel wall as Alec locks up. He’s freshly scrubbed from the shower, opting to dress in his filthy jeans rather than wear those sweatpants again. The morning light is tinged blue, and it makes him look weary. Plays over the harsh cut of his cheekbones.

“Oh, shit.” Honestly, I’d forgotten about it. But he’s right—I’ve lost all my photos from this trip. If I want to write up Lonely Mountain, I’ll have to start from scratch, and with a busted ankle and no camera.

My backpack, too. I’m kind of screwed.

“Here.” Dante pulls out his wallet. He rummages in a side pouch, pulling out something pea-sized and glittering. A sapphire cuff link.

“Fancy.” Oh my god, I’m going to drop it. I’m going to forget and put it through the wash.

“It should set you up for a while. Get your travel blog back on track.”

I’m nodding, lips numb. “Thank you.”

“Don’t put it online,” Dante warns. “The cuff link. Don’t draw attention. Sell it in person somewhere, even if you get less. Sell it in a different city.”

“Okay.”

“Use a fake name, too.”

“This is a lot of homework.”

Dante grins, flashing away from the wall and pulling me into a fierce hug. I bury my nose in his chest, breathing him in.

“Why am I crying?” I sniffle, wiping my snot on his shirt. Serves him right. “Are you sure I’m not insane?”

“Jury’s out.” Alec steps up to Dante’s shoulder. He waits patiently—so unlike last night—then pulls me against his chest too.

I inhale deeply. Commit him to memory. God, what is wrong with me? But the burn in my eyes is real, the hole caving in my chest is real, and when Alec slips his arm around my waist and leads me back towards the town, I sniffle harder.

Would staying on the run be the worst thing in the world? It’s not like I have anyone to go home to. And I could run my travel blog from anywhere. Hell, I could start one specific to Lonely Mountain. There’s barely anything written on this area—I could break new ground—

“We’re going to miss you,” Dante says quietly.

Scattered trucks and camper vans rumble past on the street, their engines hushed as they keep below the speed limit. Like they don’t want to break the morning quiet. I peer around for Angelo, but there’s nothing. No one.

No more excuses to stay.

We come to a stop outside the Mountain Rescue headquarters. It’s a small office, wedged between a coffee shop and an outdoor gear store, and I scowl at the display of fishing rods in the neighboring window. All the shops are dark and silent, but there’s a light on inside the headquarters.

“Sure about this?” I’m aiming for jokey, but it comes out sad. “It’s not too late to take me captive again.”

Alec’s smile is so heartbreaking, it’s like the ground swoops out from under me. “Now that would be a crime.”

Dante grunts. “You should have only good things, bella.”

It’s so rare to hear them agree. And I don’t know what to do with it, don’t know what to say or where to put my hands. I shove them in my pockets then pull them out again. Tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Wow,” I breathe when they both stand there, silent. “This is really sad.”

“It is.” Dante jerks forward, pulling me into another hug like he can’t help it. Alec leans past us to the doorway and rings the bell.

“We’ll see you inside.” He ducks his head, murmuring, his face close to Dante’s. I can feel the other man’s heartbeat pick up beneath his shirt. “Make sure that you’re safe. Then we’ll take off. Lead Angelo far away from you.”

“You could stay too—” Dante begins to offer, and I’m glad when Alec cuts him off.

“No. Not happening.”

I’ve never had this kind of camaraderie. The sort of kinship where you stay together—no exceptions. No excuses. And I fall in love with them both a little in this moment. Both on their own, and as a pair. The glimmer of what could have been—a bond between all three of us—shines in the corner of my eye, but then the headquarters door swings open and it’s gone.

“Yes?”

We turn together. The man in the doorway is gruff. Bearded. Clad in thick flannel. Everything you’d expect from Mountain Rescue. I blink at him, still reeling, and Dante nudges me forward. I limp toward the stranger, heart in my throat.

“Go on, bella. You tell him everything.”

The man’s eyes narrow. He peers at Alec and Dante, suspicious, but he holds out a hand and steadies me as I come inside. I grit my teeth on the step, then turn around to say goodbye, but they’re already gone. Two broad backs stride away across the town square.

“The hell happened to you?” the man grunts.

I sigh and lean against a noticeboard, the pinned fliers prodding my shoulders.

I don’t fully know.