Page 67 of Blind Prophet

“Do you see them?”

“Yeah. They’ll be here soon.” I look down at her, huddled in blankets, knees pulled up against her. “If you come back with me, I’ll answer any questions. You might not like all of my answers, but I’ll tell you anything.” She twists slightly, positioning her body in the direction of the rumbling engine. “Please.”

The look she gives me disagrees, and a less resilient man might give up. I should probably give up. “We were in transit returning to Denver and crashed, yet survived. Don’t you think someone’s trying to tell us we’re not done yet? That we need to spend time together? Talk through things? I mean, that divorce agreement you brought for me to sign? It’s incinerated. Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

She scoffs. “It’s a sign someone wants you dead.”

I’m not in the mood to laugh, but I do smile.

“Tell you what. Come back and spend the weekend with me. Give me one weekend. You can reprint the agreement, and I’ll sign it.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’ve given up on the Georgia land?”

I never wanted that damn land. I only wanted a reason to fight. “All yours.”

“It was always mine.”

“Caroline. I don’t want to fight about that land. Not now. It’s yours. Give me this weekend.”

The front of an ATV comes into view. He’s stopped about thirty yards out in front of a fallen tree. Another engine rumbles in the distance.

“Looks like our ride is here. No hoisting through the air today.”

“Dorian.” Her voice is sharp. “If I come back with you, we’re going to talk. You’re going to answer my questions.”

“I’ll tell you everything.”

She rises and stands before me. She’s assessing me. Can she see it? I’m not lying. I’ll tell her what she needs to know. I have questions, too. Which government agency is investigating me? Someone hired her firm, this Arrow Tactical that she mentioned. But I don’t care about that. Not really. If anything comes of her team’s investigation, I have lawyers who can handle any inconveniences.

“Promise? Everything?”

“Absolutely.” That’s what comes out of my lips as I stare into her eyes, but what I mean is I’ll tell her anything that won’t hurt her.

“Okay.”

I fight the urge to shove a fist into the air and shoutyes. Instead, I wave an arm in the air, ensuring the first responder on the ATV sees us. I also study him through the trees as a precaution. He’s wearing warm clothing, but it’s bright, and there are no visible guns.

“Dorian, even if I stay the weekend, it doesn’t mean?—”

“I know,” I’m quick to reassure.

But I own a property close to Santa Barbara, in Montecito. There will be challenges with leaving Denver, but nothing that’s insurmountable. If I can crack the door open this weekend, there’s the possibility of a workable solution.

My pulse beats furiously at the prospect of a reunion with Caroline, but of course, I’m getting ahead of myself. Our relationship wasn’t perfect. We had issues. I had issues. I can’t kid myself that we can resume where we left off. Nor would I want to. When she left, we were drowning in pain. Neither of us wants to return to misery. No, I want what we had before we spiraled.

The lead responder approaches in a yellow SAR jacket, his medical kit at the ready. His partner maintains perimeter security—standard procedure when dealing with a high-profile rescue.

“Mr. Moore?” He keeps a professional distance until we confirm our identities. “I’m John with Mountain Rescue. Are either of you injured?”

“Negative. The autorotation landing was successful.” I gesture to the helicopter. “You’ll need a HAZMAT team for the cleanup. There’s hydraulic fluid contained, but the fuel system is intact.”

He nods, speaking into his radio to update base. Later, I’ll contact my security team and have them secure the crash site and coordinate the investigation.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

He turns and gives a hand signal to the other guy, I presume telling him we’ll come to him. In this area, the trees are thick, and there’s limited space for a path to reach us.

---