Luke complains immediately. Reid hesitates. Sierra watches me for a second longer than the others, like she’s trying to read something I haven’t said out loud.
But in the end, they all agree.
We leave the next morning, putting Key in charge while we’re gone.
I’ve never been great with words, so as we head deeper into the forest, I don’t explain where we’re going.
I just lead.
The ground is uneven beneath our boots, the air cooler at this higher elevation. Less sunlight reaches us through the canopy than back in our clearing where the retreat buildings sit, and the scent of pine and damp earth settles into my lungs with every breath.
I glance back at Reid.
To tell the truth, I wasn’t as shocked as Luke when I found out his secret. I always thought he was hiding something dark. No one without a past disappears into the middle of nowhere and builds a place like this just to “help people.”
Sure, he meant that part. I believe him.
But I always expected something else beneath it.
The retreat wasn’t just built for others. It was built because Reid needed somewhere to exist with what he’d done. Somewhere quiet enough that it didn’t follow him every second of the day.
I could see it even then. It still haunts him. Anyone who knows him long enough can see it.
The first time we met, there was a weight behind his eyes, something restless and buried at the same time. He carried himself like a man trying to stay calm, but the calm never quite held.
I recognized it.
I knew he needed this place before he ever said it out loud.
And now that I know the truth…
It takes adjusting to. There’s no point pretending otherwise. But when I place it against everything I know about him, everything I’ve seen…
It makes a different kind of sense.
I didn’t know my parents. My grandmother told me they died in a landslide when I was two. Every year, we honor them the same way—stories, a glass of bourbon, a toast to their spirits, and a prayer that we’ll meet again one day, if the Good Lord wills it.
She used to say my mother came to this mountain to escape something. That she was troubled, worn down by whatever life she’d been living before. But the land—and my father—helped heal her.
That stuck with me.
It’s one of the reasons I sold this part of my estate to Reid. In her honor. To give him the same chance she had.
I have a picture of her tucked into my journal. The only one I have. Soft eyes. A contemplative look—not quite a smile, not quite a frown. Even without knowing her, I feel connected to her in a way I can’t explain.
And because of that…
If I imagine being her son, watching someone hurt her the way Reid described…
I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing.
Luke had someone dig into Reid’s father. The file wasn’t clean. Theft. Public intoxication. Assault. Multiple women.
That tells me everything I need to know.
Men like that don’t stop.
And honestly, I can’t bring myself to lose any sleep over a man like that being gone.