Prologue

Riddick took his time walking through the tall weeded grass. He could see the old farm house not too far in the distance and knew she had to be inside. He wasn't in a hurry, in fact if the walk through the field could have taken up the rest of his then he wouldn't mind. It'd prove he was making an effort but he would never actually have to go through with what he needed to. The wind whipped through the grass around him and an unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach. Little insects had to be crawling around in there, or either his nerves were getting the better of him for the first time in his life.

He thought of what he should tell her, but starting with I'm sorry seemed like a weak approach. How do you say you're sorry for leaving someone without any contact for two years? He had his reasons though, the bounty on his head being one of them. But now that things had settled down he had come back for her.

The door to the barn swung open and she stepped outside, leading a horse into the field. Riddick ducked low into the grass, he didn't want her to see him yet. He didn't know what he was going to say. He sighed and ran a hand shakily over the stubble on his shaved head. She was just the way he remembered. Beautiful.

Jack mounted the horse and began to ride it swiftly through the grass. She came close to him. She didn't notice him, but a familiar scent filled her nostrils as the wind kicked up around him. Sweat, boots, denim, and a touch of cologne. Her brow furrowed as she continued to ride, she didn't want to be hoping for something she knew might never happen. She didn't want to be wishing that he was waiting for her in the grass.

Riddick stood when she was out of his field of vision. He readjusted the sack he was carrying over his shoulder that contained all of his meager possessions, brushed the dirt off of his baggy faded blue jeans, and continued on toward the house.

She looked over her shoulder back towards the spot in the grass where she had thought she smelled him. Something was there, she could see it now. She turned back just as his large frame rose from the grass, he didn't notice her, only about fifty yards away. She kept the horse at a slow trot. When she was close enough she knew he would be able to feel her behind him, and maybe even smell her.

He knew she had turned back, she knew he was there. He walked slower and took a deep breath. He was going to turn around, turn around and say something to her, confess his love for her. He just needed a few more seconds, those little insects were becoming more mobile.

She jumped off of her horse and began walking behind him. She wouldn't say anything until she knew he was ready. And if he never was then she would mount her horse again and continued to ride, giving him the dignity in being able to tell himself she was never really behind him, that it was all his imagination.

He took a deep breath, it was now or never. It was as if everything slipped into slow motion as he turned to face her, his eyes saying more than his mouth ever could. They stood silent for a moment, standing a ways away from each other, looking each other over.

She went to take a step closer to him, but he stepped away. He wasn't ready for that yet, he wanted to be, but he wasn't. Her mouth moved to speak to him, but the only sound he could hear was the loud ringing in his ears. She stood there, still, waiting for him to say something, to step nearer to her. He didn't.

Then she felt another set of eyes on them. Someone was watching them. She heard a ruffle in the grass to her left and her head whipped around to find it. Her eyes settled on a small man laying in the grassy field, shot gun in hand. The man saw her eyes widen and fear sweep over her. He took aim at his target and pulled the trigger. The scream that erupted from her could have been heard for miles, but Riddick heard nothing but the loud ringing in his ears.

Tears had filled her eyes in a quick instant and she began running. He recognized that there was some sort of danger in the grass, but the insects that had been crawling in his stomach had now turned into a fiery pain that wouldn't allow him to move.

Jack ran to him as fast as she could, screaming his name as her legs kicked up dirt behind her. Her eyes were fixated on the growing red stain on his white t-shirt.

His gaze dropped down to were her eyes seemed to be locked on his shirt. He touched a hand to it and saw that the crimson substance on his shirt was wet ad sticky. He touched it again, realizing it was his blood. He looked out into the field where she had looked just a few moments ago and saw the man with the shot gun. It made sense now, he had been shot. He called out to her as his legs gave out underneath him and he fell to his knees.