Page 83 of Let the Light Shine Through

“A little blood?” I step between the two, taking Gia’s wrist before Bryce can. “Baby, anyone else’s teeth so much as nicks you and they’ll be bathing in it.” My words are not quiet, my threat is not empty, and I give Gia a push me and see what happens look, letting her fucking know it.

Her lips lift into an amused smile, saying, “Is that a promise, cowboy?”

“No promises,” I tell her before biting the side of her wrist, not enough to hurt but enough to get the heartbeat in the vein against my bottom lip to speed up. Both lips close over the skin and I suck as I let go, maintaining eye contact with Gia while I bring a hand up to plug Gia’s nose before she can sneeze, ’cause I know one’s building.

Bryce mutters, “I knew it,” under his breath, making Gia blink first, then she’s shaking me off and pulling him away.

They mount her four-wheeler while everybody else starts preparing to do the same, and I do too, breathing a little easier than I was a few moments ago. If Gia only bangs guys she dislikes, then there’s not a chance in hell Gia and Bryce have ever been together because she adores the kid.

What does that say about me though? Does she hate me?

Her eyes meet mine a second too late, and I see a mirror image of my own lust looking back at me before she can school her features.

Definitely not hate. I just need to figure out what exactly she does feel for me. Or better yet, I need Gia to figure it out.

Familiar with snowmobiles, I only need a quick rundown from Rowdy before I’m able to get the YFZ running on my own, then we’re off, all of us traveling in a loose formation—Gia and Bryce in the lead, me and my thoughts following close behind, a dozen other riders scattered about, and Rowdy bringing up the rear.

We ride like that for a couple hours, making our way around Willmont, each four-wheeler occasionally breaking from the pattern to show off in one way or another. My favorite rider to watch is Gia though. Even with a passenger, she’s still fearless as fuck. She jumps insane inclines over fallen trees, then lands them with complete confidence, never questioning herself or her capabilities. Not once does Bryce seem scared, the visible smile from under his helmet saying it all.

We’ve already passed several trail markers, but as soon as I catch sight of one of the overhead ski lifts, I end up skipping a gear, causing the machine under me to make an unnatural noise. Gia twists her head over her shoulder so fast, I think she’s going to crash, but she eases her throttle, falling back in line with me easily to ask, “You okay?”

I shrug noncommittally. Am I? I’ve ridden these trails before. I’ve boarded these trails. I’ve conquered these trails. It’s different being here without snow though. It reveals more, all the hidden natural beauty that was covered in white. I like seeing everything through new eyes, it’s like getting to experience it for the first time all over again. Not many people get that chance—a second shot. Nobody gets a third. I need to make the best of mine. I want to.

I’m going to.

I give Gia a nod, telling her I’m good and to go up ahead again. She doesn’t want to hold me back, but I’m not going to hold her back either.

We pull off a while later onto a decent-sized lookout with a puddle of a lake off to the side. Boulders and tall trees surround the hidden area, leaving the view unobstructed the closer you get to the ledge.

The noisy engines cut off, allowing the vast silence of wilderness to claim it. At first nobody moves, almost as if we’re all captives of Willmont’s suppressing charm and the mountain’s lulling us into a petrified state like the massive stones around us, then all at once, there’s a flurry of activity, breaking both the quiet and the spell.

With heavy limbs, I’m dismounting when I notice something in the distance. A flash of red cuts through the trees, soaring downhill, and I squint my eyes, trying to make out what it might be. It’s too far away to tell exactly, but for the briefest of seconds, it looks like somebody I used to know. Somebody with red hair. Crazy, unmanageable—not that he ever actually tried to tame it—bright red hair. An ironic sort of smile tugs at my lips, and I blink long and hard, breathing through my nose.

“A Cardinal.”

Gia’s voice hovers above me, waiting for the exact spot to land where I need it, and the comfort it provides, most.

She jerks her chin to where the barest of flickers of the ghost disappeared. The thousands of trees almost resemble the tops of broccoli, they’re so tightly packed, but come winter, they’ll look more like cauliflower, providing a better opportunity for seeing wildlife. It’s amazing I was able to see the bird to begin with. Must’ve been the color.

“Male Cardinals are said to be messages from someone you lost.”

Suddenly my limbs lose the extra weight, like they too are ready to fly away.

What message would he have for me now? That, like Gia said, I am in the right place?

“Could be for you. Maybe from your mom?”

She watches me closely for a minute before saying, “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

She has? For how long, because we just saw it?

“What bird was your mom?” I ask her instead, and before I even get the full sentence out, she’s already answering, “Bohemian Waxwing.”

“Never heard of it.”

“They’re beautiful.” Her eyes fill with a wonder I can practically feel. “But in an understated way. People mistake them for other birds all the time.”

Hold up.