“Where’s the fire brigade?” Sergei takes a long drag off his cigarette and blows it off the deck.
I hop up onto the railing and swing my legs back and forth, tapping the boards with my heels, “They cleared an access point from one of the existing fire roads. They’re probably up there right now.”
Sergei nods approvingly and gazes through the kitchen window at Brett, Dallas, Alex, Sydney, Aiden, Tyler, and Mason as they clean up the kitchen and finish packing supplies into backpacks and duffel bags for the trek through the woods.
I cast a glance at him, “Today, she finally said she’d marry me.”
Sergei’s mouth falls open in shock and he swivels his head around. That is, if Sergei could ever be shocked, “My friend…” he holds out his fist and I reach over to bump it, “how many times did you ask?”
“212,” I reply with a shrug, “but she wasn’t going to say yes until all of this was over and done.”
“You’re a far more patient man than I am,” Sergei leans back in one of the Adirondak chairs, Pony laying at his feet staring off the deck, “one shot,” he holds up his index finger sharply.
He’s right, I am a patient man. But it never mattered whether Brett would marry me or not. She’s still mine, and I’m hers. Just like oceans don’t need gowns and pure mountain springs don’t need rings, neither do we, because you can’t dress this kind of love in worldly possessions. It is, by design, divine and perfect and complete.
“It wasn’t my decision. Things happened the way they happened for a reason,” I say with a pause, “chess, not checkers.”
Sergei gives an irritated groan. Despite his own advice, he doesn’t like long, drawn-out processes, which is interesting because I met him at a time when our job was just one long, drawn-out process; sitting in the snow waiting for nothing for weeks on end. He’s the one who finally snapped me out of whatever the hell was eating away at my brain, and just in time.
But there’s no time to dwell on it. Brett’s alive, our baby’s alive, and now Brett can live her life without the threat of one of her characters jumping off the page and trying to murder her for spilling his secrets. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, except I wouldn’t let her leave the first time.
“Besides, if I didn’t drag you into all this, you wouldn’t have such a sweet setup down here,” I remind him.
Sergei takes another drag of his cigarette and gazes up at the stars beginning to show above the trees, “This is true. I would do anything for you, Alex, and the girls…you’re family,” his voice softens, but only for a moment, “but your sister’s a pain in my ass,” he bites out through his thick accent.
“Which one?” I don’t make eye contact at first, but when I do, Sergei is glaring at me through hooded eyes.
“The little one,” he mutters, smashing out his cigarette and tucking the butt into his pocket to throw away later.
I raise my chin up with a grin, “But you love her.”
“Who wouldn’t?” he says with indignance, “She’s like a leopard—staying in the shadows, learning, but when she strikes, it’s fast and lethal. The most dangerous kind of woman…” he speaks about Dallas with a mixture of admiration and fear, like she’s a siren who jumps out of the water to snatch unsuspecting men to drag down and devour beneath the ocean.
He’s not wrong, though. If anyone has been instrumental in doling out punishment for the transgressions of others, it’s Dallas. But no one would ever know it.
“Is Alex not afraid of her?” Sergei asks in bewilderment.
“Alex isn’t afraid of anyone.”
He hesitates for a few moments, and then glances over his shoulder at me, deadpan, “He should be.”
“Maybe you should warn him,” I say loud enough for all of them to hear as they join us on the deck.
“Warn who?” Brett asks as she locks the knob and pulls the door shut behind her, “And about what?”
“Alex,” I hop off the railing and give a nod to Sergei, “Serg says he should be more afraid of Dallas.”
“Me?” Dallas squeaks, planting a hand on her chest. “Why? I didn’t do anything to him.”
“Didn’t you?” A smile plays behind Alex’s face as he steps past Dallas, carrying one of the bags down the steps to the two quads and three dirt bikes parked in the grass.
“Name one thing!” Dallas calls after him.
Alex hoists the bag onto the back rack and swivels his head, “I could’ve gone to prison because of you, I came to blows with one of my best friends because of you—”
“That’s not true,” I chime in, “I never hit you.”
“I stand corrected,” Alex concedes, “you only threatened my life.”
I nod in approval and he continues.
“I’d have gone to prison again if you hadn’t convinced me to wait for Col to come back…” Alex finishes.
My stomach turns at the memory, when I finally came back and Alex told me what Bowen had been doing, and for who knows how long. I have to remind myself there’s no one left to gun for anymore, no one left to seek out and destroy. But when Alex told me how Bowen had kept his word, even after all this time, it was like we were back in high school and I was on the warpath all over again. Except, this time, I wasn’t afraid of Tate and his goons getting in my way.
If I’d known then what I know now, the fact that I was arrested for menacing by stalking is laughable. Technically, I wasn’t stalking when I took the boys up to the railroad bridge to fuck with Bowen. He’s lucky that’s all we did. Menacing—yes. Stalking—no. Because the first rule of stalking is that your prey should never know you even exist.
That night at the railroad bridge was harassment, plain and simple. But I was inexperienced back then, just a high schooler with a bad temper and low to no impulse control. It was also the most convenient charge with the most evidence.
Inexperience was the same reason I was such a dick to Brett at first. I loved her so much and I was blind to everything else, but I doled out punishments with impunity, even to her. I had to learn—adapt or die—which most people never do.
But I couldn’t help myself at the Rickhouse. That was a conscious choice to break the rules. First, because it’s torture being in the same room with Brett and not engaging. And second, because no one will ever lay a hand on her without dire consequences.
And, later, when Bowen whipped out my mugshot, all bets were off. I became the ghost, the apparition in his house, and messed with his shit all day long. I was the stalker, but Bowen was the menace, just like always. He had to be known, he had to be center stage, and in the end, that’s how he destroyed himself.
Dallas settles on the seat behind Alex, bags strapped to the rack behind her, while Brett wraps her arms around my chest on the seat behind me. She always holds tight, regardless of how fast we’re going. Backpacks strapped to their backs, Sydney and Tyler climb on the other two bikes behind Aiden and Mason. Then Sergei revs his bike and takes off across the grass toward the clearest path up into the woods.
The forest is much darker now that the sun’s dipped behind the trees, but not dark enough to need the lights yet. There will be plenty of that once we get to the barn, anyway. Once we break through the trees, Ray and his crew have already finished digging their firebreaks, leaving the barn in the middle of a pristine clearing.
