By the time I reach the lake, I see Angel standing on the ice with two men. Shit.

I figure I have two options.

Option one: I get in the truck and race to the police station. I turn myself in before Angel can implicate herself. It’s a shitty option. I’m not a quitter, and I never give up without a fight.

So it’s option two then. No time to think it through.

I pull my scarf up to cover my face as best I can, and I march out onto the ice, trying my best to hide my limp.

It doesn’t take long before I see Angel turn around and face me. She doesn’t run away, thank God.

She just stares, and when I get close enough to see her face, I can’t tell what emotion it is I’m seeing. At first it seems like fear, but on closer inspection, it seems like a lot more than that.

The two men stand up off their chairs and try to stare me down, but they’re way shorter than me, so it doesn't have the desired effect.

“Traci,” I say, looking Angel right in the eyes and praying she’ll realize that’s supposed to be her name.

It takes her two or three seconds, but I sigh with relief when she says. “Mark.”

The two men look each other over. They didn’t think I knew her. They thought I was just some crazy guy appearing out of the woods. What did Angel tell them? That I’m her abusive boyfriend, and she’s running from me?

“Traci,” the younger one says. “I thought you were alone in the cabin…”

The older one elbows him and flashes him a look. He looks embarrassed to have caught “Traci” in a lie.

“After the fight we had,” I say, my voice muffled from the scarf. “She just wished she were alone.”

The older man throws up his hands. “Look, I don’t want to get between you two. I have no idea what’s going on. I offered Traci here a ride though, and the offer still stands. If she wants me to drive her into town, I will. And I don’t care how big a guy you are, but if that’s what she wants, I won’t stop her.”

He sticks his chest out a bit. He’s not trying to intimidate me, not really, but he’s just trying to show me that he won’t be intimidated by me. Even though he’s pushing 65, and even though I could take him and his son, even with this limp.

Not that I will. I decide it’s up to Angel. If she accepts their ride into town, it will be option one. I’ll turn myself in to protect her. I just need to get a word in before she decides.

“Traci,” I say, taking her hand.

I sigh relief when she doesn’t pull her hand away from mine.

“Mark,” she says, her voice cold.

“I’m sorry for whatever it was I did,” I say. “And I’ll do whatever I need to do for you to come back.”

“You’ll tell me everything then,” she says, locking eyes with me.

I nod.

She looks back toward the two men, and she bites her lip. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I was embarrassed about our fight...but I think I over-reacted.”

“Whatever you choose,” the older man says.

I hold my breath as Angel’s eyes dart back and forth from me to him. Everything hangs in the air. It feels like my future will be decided in this one decision.

She turns to the old man, and I feel my world collapse.

“Sorry for wasting your time,” she says. “And lying to you.”

She reaches her hand out and takes mine. “Let’s go, Mark.”

I finally start breathing again, and I feel more relieved than I ever have.

* * *

As soon as we are back into the woods, she stops.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says.

“I won’t let you get burned because of me,” I say. “I promise you that much.”

She pulls her hands away from me, and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

“What if you’re just holding me here because you’re worried I’ll talk? You’re just saving your own skin.”

I shake my head. “I never tried to defend myself. Even to you.”

She looks up at me, her tears streaming down her face now. “That’s the problem! If you’re innocent, then tell me. I want to believe you, but you’re giving me nothing to work with.”

I draw in a breath and hold it. How much do I tell her?

Tell her everything, you idiot. You fucking dumbass, hold nothing back.

My conscience is a real dick. Maybe he’s just mad that I ignored him for so damn long.

“Walk with me,” I say, taking her hand. “It’s too damn cold to stand here.”

I take her hand and walk with her back toward the cabin, and I start talking as we walk.

“I told you I wasn’t innocent,” I say. “Because I wasn’t. Not ever really. You can probably justify what first put me in jail. At least I could. Some asshole was bullying my sister. He kept escalating it…until…”

The pure intensity of that anger flashes back into me. I see red just thinking about what he tried to do to my sister. Then I can taste his blood on me. All over my face and hands. I can smell it still.

“I didn’t kill him,” I say. “Not for lack of trying. His buddies pulled me off, but my sister got away. The cops came in time to find what was left of him, wheezing and barely alive. They saw me covered in his blood.”

“You were defending your sister,” she says, looking up at me with big, innocent eyes.

“My sister and I were poor,” I say. “These assholes were rich. Their parents were friends with the judge. You know how it goes. I got tried as an adult, and they tried to paint my sister as some kind of whore who was asking for it. It worked, and I got ten years. I only served six, because the prison was too crowded, not for good behavior.”

“Jesus,” she says, squeezing my hand. “But you didn’t–”

“Once I was out,” I say. “I figured I might as well be a criminal if the world is going to treat me like one.”

“Alex,” she says, “You’re better than that.”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t even get a job in a grocery store. No one would hire me. Luckily I’d learned to run con jobs in prison. Serving time is like getting a degree in criminal activity, it’s a damn mess. So I scraped by ripping people off. At first I tried to only get people like those rich sons of bitches who went after my sister and got me locked up, ones that had money but nothing else. The kinds of people who feed on other people’s misery. But living that kind of life isn’t cheap, and the rich guys are often the hardest to con. I soon started going after pretty much anyone, a real downward spiral.”

She’s quiet now. I decided I’m going to tell her everything, but I fear she’s going to turn back around and go to the fishermen at any point now.

“My sister won’t even talk to me anymore,” I say. “Not that I can really blame her. Anyway, the next few years are all a blur. I did a lot of shitty stuff, conned some good people, barely made it by. It felt like there was really no way out of it. I decided I needed to hit it big. I just wanted out.”

She looks at me and forces a smile. I think she can tell where this is all going.

“I didn’t want out because I felt bad. I don’t want to paint myself as some good guy trapped in a life he didn’t deserve. I’d earned this life through my actions. I wanted out because it was a grind. You’re always on the run, always worried some junkie you ripped off is going to come find you and get revenge. I just didn’t have the energy for it anymore.”

“But you didn’t kill them,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, this time, this one time, I was innocent. I never did kill anyone. I drew the line somewhere.”

She sighs relief. “You should have told me sooner. I didn’t think you did it, but I just wanted to hear you say it.”

I stop her and put my gloved hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “And if I told you, then you’d stay with me. I didn’t think I wanted that. I wanted you to run, to not get stuck in this shit life that I’ve dug myself into. Don’t you understand that?”

“Who killed them?” she asks.

“Those two were brothers. The smart kind of drug dealers, the kind that don’t use their own products. They were cooking meth, and making a fortune doing it.”

“Did you get involved?” she asks. “With dealing drugs? As part of some long con?”

I let out a dry laugh. “People overestimate us. They call us ‘con artists,’ but there’s no real artistry usually. It’s more about seizing opportunities, or knowing when to take what looks like a huge risk. I thought I was pretty good at it, but then Detective Napier happened.”

I take in a deep breath, and I can see it all come out as a cloud of cold air as I exhale in a loud sigh. Ever since it all happened, I’d just been telling myself what if. What if Napier had stayed out of it. What if I could have just gotten away with it.

I let that go. It doesn’t matter now. I realize the money wouldn’t really have saved me. As I look up at Angel, I realize that she’s what can truly save me, even when I’m totally and royally fucked in every other aspect of my life.

“I’d pretended to be a junky. I’d buy from them, then I’d just flush the meth. I saw enough guys lose it in prison to know I never wanted to touch that stuff. I acted strung out though, and they let their guard down around me. The younger brother, Rye, even thought he was friends with me. I heard Rye bragging about a big sale coming up–to some biker gang.”

“Jesus, Alex,” she says, “You have a biker gang after you too?”

I shake my head. “No, they already got me. The damage is done. I told Rye he’d need some extra muscle around during the sale, and he convinced his brother I’d be helpful. I just wanted to see where they’d stash the money, then I’d steal it after they went to sleep.”

“Brilliant plan, Alex,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“It gets worse,” I say. “The bikers showed up, and I did my best to look tough. Then, right before the sale happened, Napier appeared out of nowhere. Alone, with no backup. We all pretty much shit our pants right then and there. At least me and the brothers did. The bikers didn’t seem surprised. Before I knew what was happening, guns were drawn, and the brothers were dead on the floor. I held my breath, waiting for them to gun me down too, but it didn’t happen.”

“So Napier didn’t kill them?” Angel asks.

I shake my head. “He didn’t physically pull the trigger, no. Still, he killed them. The guns all got pointed at me next, and Napier and the bikers started negotiating straight away. I think he ended up getting 20% of the money in the end.”

“For what?” she asks.

“For framing me,” I say.

We reach the cabin, but we both stop just short of the door. It feels like stepping inside will end my train of thought and interrupt the story. It’s not a story I really wanted to ever tell Angel, but now that I’ve started, it’s easier to just finish.

“The bikers gave Napier the gun that killed the brothers. Napier promised he’d take care of everything, and then the bikers were gone with the meth and 80% of their cash. Great deal for everyone involved. Except me.”

“Not good for the brothers either,” Angel says.

“Napier unloaded the gun,” he says, “And made me hold it to get my prints on it. I cracked the butt of the pistol right into his head though, and he dropped his gun as he reeled back. I didn’t think about it, I just hit him. Then I ran. I ran toward the forest, and I heard gunshots go off behind me. I swear I heard a bullet pass right by my ear. I think he shot at me two or three times. I ran faster than I’ve ever ran. I ran right off a cliff.”

I look down at my leg.

“You’re telling me you didn’t get these injuries from the fight with Napier? You just fell down a cliff?”

I laugh, and I push her against the door of the cabin. I raise an eyebrow at her. “You’re going to laugh at me, during my tragic tale?”

She presses her lips together, trying not to smile. “It’s just...you implied that you were in some big fight, that you won but came out with these injuries. Just from the way the cut looked, I didn’t quite think that’s what happened. I didn’t realize you just ran yourself off a cliff.”

“Maybe more like a very steep hill,” I say. “It was pitch black, and as I tumbled down, a twig jammed its way into my thigh. Luckily I was able to tear it out and limp on...and–”

“And it’s lucky I found you before Napier did,” she says.

“Very lucky,” I say.

I’m still pressing her shoulder against the wall and looking down at her. There are snowflakes glittering in her hair, and she looks up at me with wide eyes.

“I wasn’t going to turn you in,” she says in a low whisper.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” I say.

I don’t tell her I was going to turn myself in to protect her. I settle for something more direct. “Just don’t run off on me again.”

She bites her lip, and I lean into her. Our lips are cold at first, but they warm up soon enough. Her taste fills me as we kiss, and ravenous hunger overtakes me.

My stomach rumbles. I want to fill my belly, and then I’ll take care of that other hunger.