Nine months later, Ash's life at Glimmerbrook seemed like something out of a twisted romantic fantasy. She and Viktor were pure dynamite. Sex without taboos, glances that ignited, laughter between drinks, dirty games in the shadows. They lived on the edge, as if they knew that everything could fall apart at any moment.

They often hung out with Amina and Knox, their “chosen family.” Between craft cocktails, sexual confessions and sensual dancing under the moon, Ash felt he had finally found his place.

-I never believed in love -she said one night to Viktor, whispering against his neck- but you... you make me doubt everything.

He just smiled, kissing her with that mix of sweetness and possession that so disarmed her.

 

Meanwhile, in the cozy but gloomy Travis home, everything seemed to be going well. Dawn had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. They named him Rusty, and he had a reddish mane that seemed to blaze in the firelight. Dawn adored him, and so did Dusty, although sometimes he would disappear for a couple of nights with vague excuses.

 

-“Country business, honey,” Dusty would say with a vacant smile. Nothing to worry about.

But one night... something changed.

Dawn was home alone. Rusty slept upstairs, wrapped up like a warm cocoon. The silence of the forest was so thick she could almost hear herself breathe. But then... something creaked.

 

A door.

A step.

A shadow.

Dawn's heart stopped for a second. She sprinted up the stairs, maternal instinct unleashed. Rusty's crying tore at her chest. And as she opened the bedroom door...

A man.

Dark. Black clothes. No visible face. He held out his arms toward his son.

-NO! -Dawn roared, and lunged at him like a wild beast.

They struggled. The stranger struggled but she, moved by terror, managed to get him to let go of the baby. The man fled like a shadow among shadows. Dawn ran to her nightstand drawer, pulled out the gun, but it was too late.

 

Silence again.

Only Rusty's cry.

The echo of the past."
Trembling, Dawn dialed Dusty's number. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her knuckles bleeding.

-Dusty, come! They tried to kidnap our son!

Dusty, on the other end of the phone, felt an icy shiver run down her spine. He didn't need any more details. He knew who had sent the man.

-I'm on my way," he said in a strained voice, hanging up immediately.

He clenched his fists. His eyes stared into the void.

-Viktor... damn you.

Because Dusty knew Viktor well. And if there was one way to hurt him...it was by touching what he loved most.

And now, the balance in Glimmerbrook was about to break.

 

The morning after the attempted kidnapping, Viktor woke up with his eyes glued to the ceiling. He couldn't stay. Dusty would know. And if Dusty knew...then he would come for him.

-Pack your bags, honey," he told Ash as he kissed her on the neck. We're leaving for four days. Just you, me... and nature.

Ash smiled. He loved it when Viktor took the initiative. He loved his way of improvising, his wild energy, that way of devouring life -and his body- without asking for permission.

He asked nothing. He suspected nothing.
They arrived before noon at Granite Falls. The air was pure, almost unreal. The forest seemed stopped in time. They stayed in an old lodge run by Meredith, an old woman, lonely, kind. She seemed to live among medicinal herbs, silent cats and buried memories.

 

Meredith offered them a hot dinner and told them where they could camp if they wanted something more... intimate.

-We'll see you in the evening," she said with an enigmatic smile.

Ash and Viktor wandered off into the trees, and the tension between them became unbearable. As soon as they found a clearing, he gently pushed her against a log and they were untied.

Between leaves, moss and panting, they made love as if the world wasn't enough. So devoted, so connected... that the sun went down and came up again without them noticing.

Dinner remained cold. The bodies, burning.

 

Ash decided to shower in the cabin while Viktor watched her disappear into the steam.

Then, Meredith appeared. This time without a smile. She was holding her cell phone in her hand, her face white, rigid. She looked at Viktor, then at the screen. Then at him. Once. Twice. Three.

-Are you...? -he whispered first. Then he shouted, "IT'S YOU!

Viktor stood up suddenly, dissimulating.

-What are you talking about?

But it was too late. Meredith turned the cell phone over and there it was.

The picture.
Two men in handcuffs.
The headline: "Dangerous killers escape from prison. Viktor Petrov and Dustin Travis wanted for robbery with violence and murder."

The blood froze in his veins.

-You have to understand, I... -he tried to say something, but Meredith was already shouting.

The sound was high-pitched. Desperate. And dangerous.

Viktor looked at the picnic knife. The one they had used to cut meat. He closed his eyes for a second. And decided.

One move.

Silence.

 

The scream went out like a candle in the wind.

The body fell, and the river swallowed Meredith as if she had never existed.

Viktor returned to the cabin. Ash was wrapped in a towel, wet, relaxed, smiling.

-Where's Meredith? -he asked.

-She went to get firewood," he answered without blinking, and kissed her with a fierce hunger.

And that same night, Viktor made love to her again as if there were no tomorrow.

Because perhaps, for him, there was none....