Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“You carried me out. All the way down the mountain? How?”
“Went back to the cabin, took down part of the wall that made the outhouse. Made a sled. Pulled you until we hit a forest service road near Sugar Bowl.” He shrugs, as if hauling an injured woman through miles of wilderness was nothing. “Turns out I knew the guy, Geoff. Got him to take us to the hospital where I called Margaret.”
“So what’s the official story?” I ask. “For Cole, Red, Hank, Eli?”
“Avalanche,” Jensen replies. “Sheriff’s already writing it up. Freak storm, unstable terrain. They know the weather was bad and they have proof of an avalanche at the trapper’s cabin. Four men presumed dead, bodies unrecoverable until spring thaw.” A humorless smile. “By then, there won’t be much evidence left to contradict the story.”
“And Marcus?” The question has been nagging at me, a loose thread in our fragile safety. “He’ll be looking for you.”
Jensen’s expression hardens. “Not for much longer. I’ve made a deal with the FBI.”
This catches me off guard. “A deal?”
“Immunity in exchange for testimony,” he explains, his voice carefully neutral. “Everything about his operation—the money laundering, the drug running, names, dates, accounts. Enough to put him away for decades.”
I process this information, immediately understanding the significance. “Your word against his won’t be enough.”
“It’s not just my word.” A hint of satisfaction crosses his face. “I’ve been gathering evidence for years. Insurance policy, in case things went south. Audio recordings, financial records, photos. Kept it all in a safety deposit box in Reno.”
“Smart,” I acknowledge. “You thought of everything. When did you set this up?”
“Called your boss, Carlos, from the hospital while you were getting a CT scan. Searched your car, found your badge, rest of your business cards. Said I had information on the Marcus Thorne organization, but I wanted guarantees.” Jensen’s thumb traces circles on my hand, a contrast to the tension in his voice. “Full immunity for past involvement, witness protection if necessary. They agreed within the hour. They’re watching him now, I guess. But we’re safe.”
The speed of the agreement tells me how badly the Bureau must have wanted Marcus.
“What happens now?”
“Now you rest,” Jensen says firmly. “Get your strength back.”
“And after that?” The question encompasses so much more than just my recovery. What happens to us? To whatever this is between us that started as antagonism and evolved into something neither of us expected?
Jensen moves closer, his weight shifting the mattress. “What do you want to happen, Aubrey?” His voice is quiet, serious.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I need to go back to Sacramento, deal with the Bureau. They’ll want a full debrief. I doubt I’ll even be allowed to return after this.”
“Will you tell them everything?” There’s no judgment in his question, just curiosity.
“Not everything.” Some truths belong only to us, to the darkness we survived together.
“Will you tell them about Lainey?”
I shrug, though it makes me wince. “I don’t know that I can. I can’t explain to them what really happened to her. Even if I blamed it on Adam, which I would love to, there’s no proof of anything…”
Suddenly I remember Lainey’s journal and the documents. I sit up straighter. “I have her journal. Don’t I still?” I try to remember but my brain is too slow. It was in my jacket pocket, but we went into the water, and then after that…
Jensen nods over at the desk. “They took a few days to dry out but we have them.”
My heart flutters with relief. I still have a piece of her, even though I can’t use any of that as evidence either.
“She’ll remain a cold case,” I eventually say. “But at least I know now the truth.”
He nods, accepting this. “And after you deal with your job? What are your plans?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with possibility. I think of my empty apartment, of the life I built around finding Lainey. Now that quest is over—painful and unresolved, yet finished.
What comes next?
I look at Jensen, at the man who carried me through hell and brought me back, who’s watching me now with those yellow-green eyes that see too much.
“I don’t know that either,” I say honestly. “But I’d like to figure it out.”
His hand finds mine again, fingers intertwining. “Together?”
The word holds a promise neither of us is ready to fully articulate. But it’s a start.
“Together,” I agree, and something settles in my chest—not quite peace, not after everything we’ve seen, but something close to it.
A foundation to build on, once the dust clears.
Outside the window, the mountains loom in the distance, their peaks still snow-covered and forbidding. They hold our secrets now, buried deep in caves and darkness. But here in this room, with Jensen’s hand warm in mine, the monsters seem far away.
For now, that’s enough.