Page 10 of Branded Mountain Man
"Yes, I do." He turned to face her, and the expression on his face was raw, desperate. "Because everyone I let close gets hurt. Everyone I care about pays the price for my mistakes."
"What mistakes?"
"I killed my best friend."
The words hung in the air between them like a physical blow. Sloan felt her chest tighten, not with shock, but withunderstanding. This was it—the wound he'd been protecting, the guilt that had driven him to this mountain.
"Tell me," she said softly.
COLT
The story came out in broken pieces, like shards of glass that cut him as he spoke.
Marcus. The fire. The choice that had killed the best man he'd ever known.
He told her about the brand—how it had started as military survival training, meant to teach them what capture and torture felt like. How after Marcus died, the symbol had become something else entirely. A reminder. A punishment he'd given himself by trying to burn it away.
"The fire that damaged it came later," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Second year up here. I was drinking, feeling sorry for myself, and I decided the brand wasn't enough punishment. Decided I needed to finish what I started."
Sloan's face had gone very still, very quiet. "You tried to burn it off."
"Tried to burn it all off." He could still remember that night, the desperate grief that had driven him to hold his own skin to the flames. "Marcus pulled me out of the fire the day he died. Seemed fitting that fire should be what finished me."
"But you stopped."
"Marcus stopped me." The admission came out broken, barely audible. "I heard his voice. Clear as day, telling me to stop being a fucking idiot. So I did."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Outside, the storm raged against the windows, but inside the tower, everything was still.
"That's why you're up here," Sloan said finally. "You're punishing yourself."
"I'm keeping myself where I can't hurt anyone else."
"That's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?"
She moved closer, and Colt had to fight the urge to back away. "You made a bad call in an impossible situation. That doesn't make you a killer."
"It makes me responsible."
"It makes you human."
"Don't." The word tore out of him, raw and desperate. "Don't you get it? Everyone I care about gets hurt. Everyone I touch gets burned. Marcus is dead because I was careless."
"And you think if you care about me, I'll get hurt too."
"I know you will."
Sloan was quiet for a long moment, studying his face. When she spoke, her voice was steady, certain.
"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard."
Colt blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. It's bullshit, Colt. Self-indulgent, narcissistic bullshit."
Anger flared in his chest, hot and familiar. "You don't know what you're talking about."
