CHAPTER 20

DAY 35

Sunday

AN: Yesterdays reviews blew my mind. I'd love to keep hearing from all of you as we continue this journey with Finn and Steph. Some of you have been asking when we'll hear from Ranger. He returns to Trenton from his mission in Chapter 26 (after 7 weeks away) and we get his pov on how he feels to find Steph gone without a trace.

FINN POV

As I drove down the mountain, I couldn't get the images of last night with Stephanie out of my mind. I considered myself an intelligent, practical man who weighed the pros and cons before making decisions. I had no regrets, but I was worried about possible complications from our night together. Complications like unexpected feelings developing that could derail her training.

"Shit." I pounded on the steering wheel. I'm too old for this. I haven't even looked at another woman besides Deborah since I was twenty-one years old. Before that, there'd only been a couple girlfriends, and neither had progressed past second base. I don't even remember how to date, let alone maneuver a casual hook-up.

It took me longer than usual to gather supplies because my mind kept wandering back to last night. Finally, I had the truck loaded with everything on my list and was on my way back. About ten minutes from the cabin, I realized I was tapping the steering wheel. Annoyed that I was letting my nerves get the better of me, I gripped the steering wheel instead.

She was waiting for me on the porch when I came around the bend. She put the book down and jumped up to help carry the supplies. I grabbed the heaviest bag and headed up the porch stairs. I glanced down at the book she'd been reading, Mastering Fear. Interesting. Given everything she'd been through, this seemed like a positive sign. Maybe she was moving toward healing instead of treading water as she coped with the aftermath of her abduction.

After the supplies were put away, I handed Stephanie a shipping box. She looked at me with questioning eyes. "What's this?"

"Open it," I said a little too gruffly. I didn't want her to think I'd bought her a romantic gift while in town. That would send the wrong message. Careful to avoid eye contact, she took the box and slowly peeled the tape back as if the contents were hazardous waste. Her eyes lit up as she pulled out a black bulletproof vest. "Put it on. See if it fits."

She slipped it over her t-shirt and twisted to test the fit. "It fits perfectly. Thank you."

"This is the latest development in body armor. It can stop .30 caliber armor-piercing rounds with a velocity of 878 meters per second. Only the military, government agents, and SWAT have access to them."

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. She bit her lip before finally settling. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing. It's part of the training package." We both knew it wasn't. I'd called in a prime favor to get this fast-tracked to me outside of normal channels.

"Why don't I make lunch?" she offered.

I nodded and went to my room to change into shorts and a t-shirt. When I came out, Stephanie had reheated the leftover vegetable stew. We ate on the deck, and when we were done, I asked, "Want to help me get the boat and the jet ski ready for summer?"

"Really?" She jumped up.

While she polished the fiberglass shells, I worked on the boat motor. Once she was done, she put the kayak in the water and set off rowing across the lake with Maggie.

After dinner, Stephanie played frisbee in the backyard with Maggie. Stephanie let the frisbee fly, and Maggie chased it, jumping high in the air to catch it in her mouth. I watched them for several minutes when I realized I was smiling. I felt content for the first time in a long time and liked it. I wasn't wistful enough to believe it would last, though. Stephanie had brought light back into my life, and when she left, she'd take her light with her. I needed to protect myself, or the loss would destroy me. That was a worry for another day. While she was here, I wasn't going to sit on the sidelines. I took the stairs two at a time. As soon as Maggie saw me, she ran up with the frisbee in her mouth. Stephanie and I took turns throwing it, and Maggie enjoyed every bit of the attention. The sun had almost set, making it hard to see the frisbee, so I gave it one final throw and turned to Stephanie. "Help me put the cover back on the boat?"

After we were done, she sat on the dock, feet hanging over the side but not touching the water, and I joined her. Even though I was looking out at the lake, I felt her turn slightly toward me, her head tilted as if trying to understand something. "Can I ask you a question?"

Inwardly, I sighed. Conversations that started like this were never fun. "You can ask."

"Why do you live up here all by yourself. It seems lonely." Stephanie's attention returned to the water, where her feet swayed back and forth.

I hated that she might think I was some pathetic loser and feel sorry for me. I found myself wanting to confide in her. Thankfully, the sun had set, making it easier to talk under cover of darkness. "Jeanne probably told you about my wife and daughter."

"Yeah, she uh… she told me." There was so much compassion in that little broken sentence that I wished she would put her arms around me.

"I was part of a team tracking serial killers. We identified a killing pattern involving six children over five years. It took a while, but we connected Mark Hollins to the murders. He stayed one step ahead of us for two years, taunting us, me in particular. I'd always been cautious with my family's safety. I tried to get Deborah to learn self-defense, but she hated violence as much as she hated my job. Seven years ago, Hollins set up a wild goose chase for my team and me. While we were away in West Virginia, he broke into my home and terrorized my wife and our eight-year-old daughter before—"

Stephanie put her hand on my arm. "You don't have to say anymore."

Surprisingly, I wanted to talk about them. I wanted someone to know how great they were. How much I loved and missed them. "Katie was the sweetest little girl in the world. The light of my life." Tears I hadn't shed in a long time filled my eyes, and my throat started to close. It had taken me years to pull myself out of the depression I'd fallen into, but I'd done it, and I couldn't go back. Stephanie's hand came up to her face, and she sniffed. I wasn't alone in my pain anymore. If anyone could understand, it would be her, so I continued. "Hollins made it look like their murders were part of a string of home invasions in the area. My superiors bought into it, but not me. He was sending me a message to back off. I became obsessed with tracking him, but he'd disappear every time I got close."

"Did you ever find him?" she whispered.

I found myself telling Stephanie something I'd never told a soul. "He's dead. I made sure no one would find the body." I waited for her to run to her car and peel out of here in fear.

"Did he suffer?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She understood. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm the one to blame. My career choice put my family in danger. They never would have been targeted if it weren't for me." I was glad I ended Hollins' life, but he got off too easy. He should've suffered every day for what he did, just like I do.

She lightly rubbed my back. "You cannot blame yourself. You were helping people by putting bad guys behind bars. You are the hero." After sitting quietly for a few minutes, she gave my arm a gentle but firm squeeze before slowly getting to her feet. "I'm going to turn in. Week six of training starts tomorrow, and my trainer is a real hard ass."

DAY 36

Monday

STEPH POV

After completing the regular Monday morning physical fitness assessment, we began our four-and-a-half-mile run. I was on mile three when I started to slow. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Finn turned around to jog backward—yes, you heard me right—backward. "Pick it up," he yelled. "A turtle could run faster."

I huffed and puffed and gave him a narrow-eyed glare that should have sent him cowering in fear. He smirked, reminding me he wouldn't take it easy on me. Hard to believe this was the same man who had given me so much pleasure the other night.

I walked on pins and needles yesterday, afraid he'd want to talk about the fact that we now had carnal knowledge of each other. Turned out I had nothing to worry about. There'd been absolute radio silence on that subject. I couldn't decide if I was grateful it was being swept under the rug or if it was better to get everything out into the light of day. Tackling things head-on was not my usual M.O. I used to be the queen of denial and avoidance, content to kick my problems down the road, hoping they'd disappear. Shaking my head, I picked up the pace. What was happening to me?

Finn took his smoothie upstairs while I took mine and my latest book onto the patio to read during our mid-morning break. Yesterday, I began a new topic about how to master your fear. Since I feared dark stairwells, grocery stores, ice cream, and even peanut butter, conquering my fears was something I sorely needed. Lucky for me, according to the book, anyone could do it as long as they were ready.

Well, I was ready.

Step one was to acknowledge your fear. Done. I could list everything that triggered my anxiety and explain why and how those fears originated. For instance, Finn's basement stairs freaked me out. Did I think the dark, enclosed stairwell was going to kill me? No, I did not. But it reminded me of how beat down and scared I was as I trudged up the concrete steps of the cellar to freedom. And it brought back the decaying smell of death I'd lived with for twenty-nine days.

I also knew that peanut butter wouldn't kill me. In fact, I would have died in the cellar without it. Now, I have a bad association with it. One whiff of that nutty scent could send me straight back to the cellar, where my stomach ground painfully as I rationed my last bite of sandwich.

Then, there was the problem of going to the grocery store. The thought of placing myself in that situation again made me break out in a cold sweat. That innocent trip was what started it all.

Lastly, there was the ice cream issue. Durant had taken something I loved and perverted it. He'd made me share it with him as if it were our special thing. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to buy the stuff, let alone eat it, again.

Step two was to find a way to ground myself and become centered so I'd be able to cope when I tried to immerse myself in whatever act was causing my fear. Not surprisingly, the technique Finn taught me was in the book, where I rub my thumb and index finger together when stressed. It was supposed to alleviate anxiety. So far, it hasn't let me down.

Step three was exposure therapy. I dreaded that one, but I was going to power through and slowly expose myself to the things that triggered me until they no longer posed a problem.

Step four was positive reinforcement. When my fear escalated, I was supposed to use self-talk, speaking firmly and uplifting to ease my anxiety. In short, I was supposed to be my own cheerleader by giving myself pep talks of affirmations as I pushed myself to confront my fears. I wasn't sure it would work for me, but I was willing to give it a try.

Step five was to release control and surrender. That seemed easier said than done, but my goal was to leave this mountain almost back to normal or on a path to becoming okay.

Now that I felt ready, I didn't want to take the chance that I would back out. I wasn't going to do it all in one go, but the least I could do was bring the peanut butter jar in from the garage and put it back in the cabinet. I planned to live with it in the house and see how I felt about it.

Baby steps.

Now that I had a plan, I picked up my empty glass and went back inside to begin my upper body workout. After that, I moved to the Jacob's ladder, ascending tirelessly to nowhere. From the corner of my eye, I watched Finn do his millionth chin up. Every time his muscles strained, I was reminded of how he held me so gently the other night and how I'd climbed him like a tree to get to his lips. Damn, I wanted to do it again.