A rustling noise came from the forest, the evergreen leaves shaking in the wind. It was just the wind, right? Kitty felt her spine stiffen, her body on high alert. There was no way she could run on this icy ground in her Steve Madden loafers.
She was just imagining all the grizzly ways a bear could kill a person when she heard the low rumble of an engine coming from behind her. A moment later, she could see the headlights, too, cresting over the hill, approaching her and the deer at a fair speed.
She stood up, waving her arms madly. ‘Hey,’ she yelled. ‘Over here!’
It turned out to be a rusty old flatbed truck, dark red paint chipped and peeling from its bulky frame. The truck slowed down, coming to a halt beside her abandoned rental car, the driver turning off the engine and opening the door.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled up. What had seemed such a good idea a moment ago now seemed foolhardy. She was in the middle of a deserted mountain in West Virginia, with a busted car and a phone that wouldn’t work. Now a stranger was climbing out of a beaten-up Chevy, and for all she knew he could be some kind of axe murderer, desperate for his next victim. Maybe a bear attack didn’t sound so bad after all.
Her fears intensified as the driver climbed out of the truck. He – and, boy, it was definitely a he – was tall, well over six feet, with a thick beard and a dark-knit beanie pulled down tightly over his head. Between the hat, his thick coat and his sturdy jeans, his only exposed skin was between his hairline and his beard.
And those molten chocolate eyes that were taking her in.
Oh boy. In spite of her frozen body, she could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. Even though she could only see a small part of his face, she could tell he was attractive, with a strong, straight nose and high sculpted cheekbones. She wasn’t sure whether her heart was pounding from fear or interest.
Glancing over at where Kitty was standing next to the deer, the man grabbed something from his truck, before turning around to face her once again.
He was carrying a rifle.
Yep, it was definitely fear.
Cradling the gun in his arms, he walked towards her. The closer he got, the more she realised just how tall and muscled he was. His proximity heightened Kitty’s fear into some kind of hysteria.
‘Don’t shoot!’ she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘For God’s sake don’t kill me.’
Surprised, the stranger stopped walking. ‘What the hell?’
His voice was low and rough, matching his determined demeanour. Kitty felt herself start to shake, her muscles quivering as she stared at the serial killer in front of her.
‘I’m sorry.’ She tried to make her voice as even as possible. Don’t show them you’re afraid. ‘Please don’t hurt me.’
The man stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Do I look like I’m going to kill you?’ An element of derision laced its way through his words. Immediately she felt her hackles rise.
‘You’re carrying a gun,’ she pointed out.
‘To put the deer out of its misery.’ He gestured at the animal beside her, then shot her a scornful look. ‘Unless it’s dead already.’
‘I… I thought it was,’ Kitty said, her teeth starting to chatter, from a mixture of the cold and the shock. Not that the guy in front of her was helping any. He may have looked good, but contempt for her was pouring out of him. ‘But its front legs are moving, see?’
The man came closer still, then crouched down next to the deer, placing his hand against its neck. ‘Its pulse is weak,’ he said, stroking the deer
again. Then he lowered his lips, until he was speaking into the animal’s ear. ‘Don’t worry, girl, you won’t suffer.’
It was only when he loaded his rifle that Kitty realised his intentions. Her fear for her own safety vaporised, quickly replaced by indignation. Surely he wasn’t really planning to pull the trigger?
‘Don’t kill it,’ she shouted, about to launch herself in front of the deer. ‘It’s still alive, it just needs help.’
The man cocked his head and looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘She’s dying,’ he said sharply, stroking the doe, his hand pressed against her spine. ‘The impact’s broken her back. You need to move away so I can take care of her, it’s the kindest thing to do.’
Kitty wanted to cry. Her relief at the deer being alive vanished, replaced by the knowledge that she was suffering from her injuries. Rising up to her feet, in her useless suede loafers, Kitty half stepped, half slid backwards, letting the husky man do what he needed to.
She couldn’t watch him do it, though. She looked away, holding her hand over her mouth and steeling herself to hear the loud bang of the gunshot, waiting for the stranger to kill the poor animal. When the loud crash came, resonating through the trees, she let out a little scream before fighting tears, trying to ignore the loud sigh that came from the man.
‘It’s over,’ he said, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. ‘You can look now.’
When she turned around it wasn’t the deer she looked at, but the tall stranger staring at her. Now he was close up, she could get a better look at him. He was younger than she’d first thought, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, judging by the smoothness of the skin around his eyes.
There wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen. Not that she was looking.