Chapter 1
The thunder crashed and Casey snuggled down further on the couch. Her third glass of wine glinted red in the firelight. She had stopped drinking an hour ago, realizing just how drunk she was getting, but bitter reminiscing just seemed better with a glass of wine in her hand.
If she was being honest with herself, she was taking a certain satisfaction in knowing that she was approaching this entirely the wrong way. A productive adult would handle a break-up by going on with their life as normal. Maybe they would indulge in a set of new workout gear, or a few meals’ worth of Chinese food, or a haircut or something.
Casey, on the other hand, had spent two days in bed, bawling her eyes out while wearing an oversized T-shirt, and had then proceeded to pack a backpack—not even a suitcase—and run away to her family’s cabin upstate, where she was now drowning her sorrows in wine. Maybe, she thought; she should cap it all off by getting a tattoo. What tattoo said, “My boyfriend left me for his sister’s nanny?”
She took a gulp of wine and groaned. The nanny was…well, just what Casey had been once; young, gorgeous, and cheerful. And Casey was That Woman, the one pushing thirty and finding grey hairs, who was—to top it all off—going to have a killer hangover tomorrow morning because she couldn’t drink like she used to. And she knew if she told anyone about this, they would roll their eyes and tell her how pretty she was and how thirty wasn’t old. So she hadn’t told anyone.
She wanted to wallow, dammit.
The thunder crashed again, and she jumped. She drained the glass of wine and reached for the bottle. One glass left. She should stop. But she should also be home in New York, already asleep because she had work tomorrow, and she wasn’t doing that either. She poured the last of the bottle out, and then tipped her head back on the arm of the couch and sighed.
She had really thought Eric was the one. Never hitting on her friends, always respectful, and a career on track for spectacular things. And now all that was left was a hurried, “I think we made a mistake,” and some bitter words about wasting three years, and he was off with a nineteen-year-old while Casey drank herself stupid, alone, in a cabin. One of them was clearly getting the better end of the deal, and it wasn’t her.
Another crash sounded, and this time it wasn’t thunder. Casey sat up, her heart pounding. It was nothing. It was the wind. It was her sister here to check on her. Casey would have groaned at the thought of Jenna’s lecture, only she was suddenly very, very certain that it wasn’t any of those things. She put the wine on the table and crawled, staying low, to look out the sliding doors at the end of the kitchen…
And screamed.
The bear was dragging itself slowly up the lawn, the shattered remains of the picnic table lying on the storm-soaked grass, and its eyes were fixed on the cabin. It was coming for food. It was coming now. It did not wander, sniffing as an animal should. It was taking a straight path, and it was coming for her.
Casey scrambled back, upsetting the coffee table and hearing the glass shatter on the hearth. She paused, stupidly, thinking she should get a sponge and—
Bear. There was a bear. She ran for the coat closet, fumbling through layers of winter coats and snowshoes until the heavy shotgun case emerged. She hauled it out, fumbled at the latches. Locked.
Dammit.
She dragged it with her as she crouched and ran back to the kitchen. Ammo in the bottom drawer, keys in the top drawer. She hid behind the counter as she pulled the drawers open carefully and extracted what she needed. A quick glance around the counter showed the bear still limping its way up the lawn. It was almost at the porch.
Oh God. Her fingers were sluggish because of the wine, and shaking with adrenaline. Casey fumbled with the locks, checking to see if the barrel of the gun was clean before loading the ammo.
There was a sound behind her that made her nearly leap out of her skin, and the sound of the storm swirled into the kitchen. The door was open. Casey clapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream. She could run…but she wouldn’t make it ten feet. Never run from a bear, her father used to say.
She was going to have to be brave. Casey took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for what she was going to see. If she didn’t stand up now—right now—the bear was going to find her and she wasn’t going to have time to get the shot out.
Stand up, Casey. Stand up. She stood, aimed, and yelled at the top of her lungs. The bear, halfway through the door, stopped dead in its tracks.
“Get out of my house!” Real smart, Casey. Because bears understand English. “Get! Get out! Go!” She forced her trembling legs to advance.
It took a step back, swinging its head side to side. Almost, she would have said, it was pleading with her. When it looked up, its eyes fixed on hers, and they were nothing like the cold black her sister had mentioned once. She’d fled out of the woods at a dead run with their dog barking so hard they all thought he’d been dragged off, and Jenna kept gasping that the bear had the cruelest, coldest eyes she’d ever seen. She said it was going to kill her, and Casey wondered why that was such a surprise, and now here they were. If she got out of this alive, she was going to tell Jenna that bears’ eyes looked just like human eyes.
It took a low, shuffling step towards her, hanging its head. Blood was pooling on the floor around her feet.
“Go!” Casey took another step, and another.
The bear backed away, little sounds of distress escaping from its snout. What, was it afraid of the storm? Casey almost laughed, and bit her lip. She was barely holding it together as things stood now. She forced the bear out onto the porch, screaming like a drill sergeant, and stopped when the creature was back on the lawn. Her hands were so slippery with sweat that she wasn’t sure she could hold onto the gun much longer.
It tried once more, slinking towards the porch stairs like some sort of overgrown dog, and she screamed—really screamed. She aimed, feeling tears on her cheeks, and pulled the trigger—
Thank God her father had taught her to shoot. The bottom step exploded into woodchips and the bear scrambled away, roaring.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” Casey screamed. She chambered another round, shaking so hard she could hardly stand, and aimed again. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered again.
It stared at her for a long moment, and she almost lowered the gun, the eyes were so sad. When a howl sounded from the rain swept forest, it turned and ran, its uneven gait carrying it over the lawn and into the trees at a limping run.
Casey leaned against the doorframe. She was making a sound she couldn’t quite put a name on, somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a sob, and she really needed to put the gun away before it went off. Wolves. There was a bear, and there were wolves, and the bear had…it had…
It had opened the door.
Her blood went ice cold and she whirled, slamming the door shut. She needed to call Jenna, and their parents, and the police, and—anyone. Anyone at all. And then she needed to get the hell out of here, or maybe put all the furniture on the stairs and sleep in the attic. She laid the gun on the counter, no longer sure she wanted to unload it after all, and went for the phone.
A loud cracking sound came next, lightning flaring and the lights in the cabin flickered and died. Casey looked out in time to see the light pole nearby tip into the trees, yanking the power lines down with it. At any other time, she might have screamed. Now, she had no more energy than to watch it fall and whisper a heartfelt expletive.
There was no calling anyone now. Her cell phone had zero reception out here—it was one of the major benefits of coming; she couldn’t text Eric—and the landline was now completely gone. Also, she was going to be subsisting on cereal and untoasted bread until she left, but that wasn’t so bad. She was going to leave as soon as it was light out. In fact, she was chewing her nail and considering leaving now, with the gun in the car just for safety, when movement at the edge of the forest caught her eye.
You have got to be kidding me. She didn’t think she could take another round of the bear. She squinted, stepping closer…
“Oh, my god.” She dropped the gun and ran, barefoot. It was a man; blood staining his jeans as he staggered up the grass. And Lord alone knew what was going to come out of the forest behind him—because how had he gotten injured in the first place?
Maybe she should have brought the gun.
He looked up as she approached, and Casey felt her eyes go wide. This was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life; dark eyes, dark hair, skin the color of caramel, a jaw that could cut glass…and he was ripped. The rain had pressed his black T-shirt against his chest in a very appealing way, and his lips were full and—
And he was going to die if she couldn’t get him inside.
“Come on,” Casey gasped, looping his arm over her shoulders and pulling him towards the house. “There’s a bear.”
“I know.”
“And wolves.”
“I know.”
His weary acceptance evaporated when a howl sounded from behind them. They both broke into a run, pounding up the stairs and into the house, and Casey yanked the glass door shut as the man fainted on the floor of the kitchen.