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Not suitable for pairing at this time.
Same.
She huffed a laugh and shook her head. Hallie would never be okay to pair up either, because she would never trust a man ever again.
Men lied.
They said pretty words and got women hooked, and then they hurt them, manipulated them, took over their minds, and trained them to protect secrets that hurt.
Hallie squeezed her eyes closed at a wave of memories that took over her mind.
She was probably a bigger mess than Gunner.
Not suitable.
Not suitable.
Hallie inhaled deeply and lifted her phone back up. She hit the message button, and typed out:
Hello, to whomever this concerns.
Gunner showed me a kindness tonight. I’m not interested in pairing either, just in finding out how I can contact him. I would like to thank him for what he went out of his way to do for me. It was nice to feel like someone had my back.
She typed out her phone number and email address, but hesitated before she hit send.
I will be at the Korner Katch Bar and Grill tonight at 8:00 p.m., straight after I get off work. I will bring cookies as a thank-you. I’m not good at much, but I can bake. See him there, or not. Either way, I hope he knows there is someone out in this world that appreciates what he did.
She signed her name, and then before she could change her mind, she hit send.
Chapter Five
Gunner lifted his hand to knock, then hesitated, twisted around, and glared at the gray streaks in the sky. It was six in the morning and before dawn. It was too early to be here.
He should leave.
He made a clicking sound behind his teeth, then jogged down the stairs and made his way to his motorcycle. This was stupid.
But…Bash could find out who this tracker was connected to. He could find out anything.
Gunner turned and headed for the porch of Bash Kane, then turned again and gripped his hair in his hands. He glared at the dark sky, where the last of the stars twinkled their goodbyes to the night.
When he looked at his motorcycle, someone was standing at the edge of the woods.
He recognized the silhouette and scent immediately.
“I thought you would be long gone,” Lucia Novak, the daughter of Beaston Novak, said.
Her raven-dark hair lifted in the breeze, and her bright-green eyes remained trained on him.
Chills lifted on his forearms.
Lucia was very important to these mountains. She was a seer, like her father.
She was also the reason he was walking free.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.
“I had a dream about you.”
