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#knife's edge
pcttrailsidereader · 3 months
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The view from the Knife's Edge in the Goat Rocks of Southern Washington is one of the most photographed along the PCT. However, this image, taken in 2022 by William Campbell, offers a different perspective on this iconic view. Campbell notes that it was a glorious morning but a few short hours later Mount Rainier was completely obscured by smoke from area fires.
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theficpusher · 4 months
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Knife's Edge by SadaVeniren | T | 1483 He really hoped the cut would stop bleeding. “Dad? What are you doing in our bathroom?” Louis whipped around to see Jess standing in the hallway. She wasn’t rubbing her eyes like she’d just woken up. She was staring at him wide-eyed, and he saw the moment she registered the bleeding cut on his chest because she covered her mouth. He immediately began to panic. aka Sometimes you have to parent, even when you're bleeding from your chest because you were an idiot and hadn't practiced safe kink techniques
superior dna by Anonymous | E | 1611 harry and marcel are identical twins. something strange happens that scientists have never seen before. the twins see their dna as superior and make it their mission to populate the planet with as many offspring as they can. but they need a beta host to get things started.
Make It Worse by Jiksa | E | 1613 He’s looking at Nick with that soft, terrible look in his eyes, the look that tells Nick the two of them are probably something.
little do you know | E | 1623 harry likes to be ignored during sex. nick and louis are happy to indulge him.
Into the Woods by kingsofeverything | E | 2461 Whenever he hikes, Harry keeps an eye out for trees with knots and scars that resemble buttholes. What started as fodder for his silly little Instagram account has become his favorite way to masturbate.
just a little bit wet by rosysonata | nr | 3031 Of course there was always risk, that's part of the reason it felt so good, part of the reason it made him cry, just the idea that someone might catch a glimpse of this thing he does. He's just never actually seen another person while he was there. basically... Louis regularly wets himself in the forest, usually in very colourful and tight clothes. Too bad he keeps running into Harry on his way back to the house
Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet by flamboyo | E | 4513 “It was about how cold he was under me. How still. It was knowing that even if he had died, even if he was already dead, he would still be mine.” Louis thought he knew each one of his boyfriend’s stories, secrets, and kinks. Turns out Harry was keeping a crucial one hidden away.
Never Thought I'd Be Missing the Heat by larry_hiatus | E | 5605 Harry has always hated cigarettes, but when that’s the only piece of Louis that he has left after their breakup, he ends up chain smoking while touching himself to try and get that taste of Louis back.
no one's gonna know by jishler | E | 9116 Harry can’t look away from the ribbon. He can’t process it, can’t hear his own thoughts over the roaring rush of blood in his ears. “Don’t you look pretty?” Harry hears Louis’ voice as if from far away. Or: Harry and Louis go to a party.
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Knife's Edge
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Album: Strife! Composer: Tensei Leitmotifs: Cascade Characters: Jack Noir, Davesprite, Bro Strider, Lil Cal
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ajelementus · 1 year
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✨GUYS, I'M PUBLISHED!!!✨
I am SOOOO excited to have this out!! 😁 As of yesterday, Violet Vanstorm's first ever interactive mystery: Knife's Edge, has been released on KindleVella!
The story will release in episodes and each one will be based on ✨YOUR✨ decisions, shared in comments and polls! Episode 1 is up NOW and is available for free at https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0C7P18NNB
I LOVE interacting with readers and so I have been especially excited about this project! If you're ready to solve a case, make sure to head on over, and to share with any of your mystery loving friends! Every read, share, like, and follow makes a HUGE difference!
Hope to see y'all there! Together... let's catch a killer 🔪😉💣 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0C7P18NNB
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sunderwight · 2 months
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Bingqiu AU where Luo Binghe's the chosen village sacrifice to the evil deity who lives up the mountain.
Normally the village sends maidens, but they've more or less run out of expendable girls of the right age and, ahem, "virtues". So of course Luo Binghe's early life bad luck kicks in. In the wake of his mother's death there's no one to really care about what happens to him, he's fairly pretty, and the village leaders decide that if they dress him up like a girl the teenaged homeless kid should pass well enough. And hey, y'know, he's probably got a hard life ahead for him anyway -- dying in a brothel of some venereal disease or on the streets of exposure or starvation. At least as a sacrifice, everyone else gets to benefit from his loss! And the kid will get added to a shrine and be remembered as a hero! If anything, he should be happy about this!
Binghe is not happy about this.
But he's also a skinny underfed nobody who is easily overpowered, dressed up like a bride, and tied to a post. So. Not much he can do but wait for the evil deity to come and do whatever horrible thing he's gonna do to him.
Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he's been isekai'd into the over-powered hero of some kind of supernatural adventure story? He's not totally sure because he doesn't recognize the setting, but the signs are there. He's got a shrine-like base of operations (though it seems to have become corrupted/ruined, probably he has to restore it somehow), he has a very resilient and handsome new body with spiritual energy of some kind flowing through him, and a very clearly magical sword. Plus lots of neat starter powers! Though it feels like he has other abilities that have been blocked somehow? Probably he has to level up in order to access them.
When he treks out of his "base" and finds what seems to be a distressed maiden, he takes it for his beginner hero mission. The girl claims that she's been doomed to be sacrificed to an evil god. That sounds a little above Shen Yuan's pay grade for dealing with, so he unties her and decides that they had better just get out of the whole region altogether. He already packed up anything useful from his base, anticipating he might get caught up in an adventure once he left, so they follow the river away from the settlement until they reach another one.
While they travel, Luo Binghe tells Shen Yuan about the cursed deity, Shen Qingqiu, who was cast out of the heavens for slaughtering one of his brethren and has apparently being do-who-knows what to maidens from the local village in exchange for his "protection" ever since. Sounds like a real asshole! And also mid-level boss type bad guy at least. Shen Yuan hopes he doesn't have to fight him, but he probably will.
Thank goodness he found Binghe, though! Clearly the helpful little sister type! He's definitely going to require her assistance if he's going to figure out how to navigate this world and level up his skills enough to take on a god.
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conditioned-to-obey · 3 months
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"I can fix her" I can lay her down on an altar like a soft spring lamb and sweetly slit her throat. I can watch her smile to herself as she lulls into the warm familiar embrace of a gentle, sleeplike death. I can devoutly relish the honeyed last breath of something pure. I can use her spilt blood and still heart to resurrect her, just to do it all over again.
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darkened-spirit · 22 days
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Thinking about the pretty noises you would make with your legs up over my shoulders, being pushed back towards your head. I'll have you wearing some nipple clamps with a chain attached, and have that chain tied to your ankles so that every time you squirm, kick, resist in any way, I'll get to hear more of those beautiful sounds as your poor sensitive nipples get even more torture.
Maybe I should have your hands tied behind your back as well...I should have the rope looped around your neck so that the more you move and try to escape, the harder you choke yourself.
But then, how do I make sure you're trying to escape those restraints, moving as much as possible so I get the satisfaction of listening to your moans and squeals, seeing your face change colors, watching the desperation in your eyes change to pleasure before glassing over for me? By fucking you nice and slow, teasing your clit with my thumb while my other hand traces a knife tip over your exposed skin. Putting just enough pressure on the blade that you get pretty little lines following it's path, making you flinch away constantly into the ropes. Eventually my thumb will be replaced by a vibrator on your swollen clit, and my slow pace will speed up as your juices form a puddle under your ass. I'll keep count of your orgasms by carving little tally marks into your thigh, then licking the blade clean. Maybe once the vibe gets you so sensitive that you're crying, I'll take that opportunity to rail that tight ass of yours and give you a new sensation.
I do hope you're conscious enough to tell me where you want me to finish, at least the time I cum. I plan on going at you for a few rounds like this, so I'm sure after a little bit I'll just have to make the decision for you. Oh, and don't worry, I made sure to set up the camera to record everything. I want you to watch it back when you wake up so you can see what an adorable little fuckdoll you are for me, my little princess.
Send a DM if this makes you squirm and squeeze your thighs together, or an ask if you're too scared. Let me know if this makes you feel a certain way and what I can do to make that feeling better
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Lecture 14: Progressive or Prog Rock was a major genre in the 1970s involving experimental sounds, improvisation, avant-garde modernist elements, poetic lyrics, and long (long, long) songs, borrowing elements of jazz, classical, spoken word, and – well, pretty much any and every genre you can imagine. Prog rock’s origins could be traced back to the psychedelic rock heyday of the 1960s, and it thrived in the 1970s thanks to such bands as Pink Floyd, Rush, Genesis, King Crimson, Yes, and this band right here, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, from Great Britain, consisting of Keith Emerson (keyboards), Greg Lake (bass, vocals), and Carl Palmer (drums). Here, EL&P perform one of their more conventional tunes, “Knife Edge,” in Switzerland in 1970. It’s a good place to start if you haven’t heard EL&P. As the years went on, the band became increasingly unique in their sound, and they eventually went their separate ways in 1979. 
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pcttrailsidereader · 2 months
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It has not been a difficult search to locate photos of the Knife's Edge. It has been interesting to discover such a variety of treatments of this section of the PCT. Photo credit for this image belongs to Alasdair Fowler from more than a decade ago. I have another couple and then this series will have more than run its course.
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itsguysnightitsironic · 2 months
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If your overlord doesn't give you a campy outfit you're allowed to kill them with an icepick.
🧊⛏️
Adapting to 31 and 32 of EOM by redesigning the redesigns because Lethica no fur coat, Lethica 1920's figure, no fur coat? JAIL FOR DEREK, JAIL FOR A HUNDRED YEARS!!
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I miss my teeth, guys, I miss them a lot.
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veinsfullofstars · 5 months
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At least he owns up to it.
(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of Ribbon hanging out with Dark Meta Knight and offering some criticism regarding his attitude, based on this incorrect quote. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)
Anything to draw more Wave 2 shenanigans. Thanks once again to @incorrect-star-allies for the inspo (seriously, reading these silly quotes always makes my day - if chronic fatigue wasn’t a thing, I’d be making so much more fanart for the things you post, haha.)
UPDATE: Added highlights 'cause I'm a dingus and forgot to add them before I posted.
Started 05/04/24, finished 05/10/24.
---
Transcript:
Panel 1
*Ribbon centered in frame from her midsection up, turned 3/4 towards our left, eyes shut and a hand held palm up as she speaks.*
R: Dark Meta Knight is not a morning person.
Panel 2
*Ribbon turns the opposite way, glancing towards our right with one brow furrowed, tapping her chin pensively with her other hand.*
R: Or a night person.
Panel 3
*Shot pans back to show Ribbon sitting on top of DMK’s head, leaning forward slightly to watch as he sits on the floor and hunches over a sharpening block, running the edge of a combat knife along the well-used stone.*
R: There’s really only about seven minutes a day that you’re fun to be around.
Panel 4
*DMK finishes his sharpening and sits up to inspect the blade, one eye shut, running a thumb along the now sparkling edge. Ribbon - not expecting the movement - starts to tumble backwards off his head, her eyes wide and pupils shrunk, arms and legs and wings spread out in surprise.*
DMK: The best part is you never know when they’re coming.
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deafleppard · 23 days
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charles + ⚔️ for @liamlawsonlesbian send me a driver (or drivers) and an emoji for a graphic
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andmaybegayer · 4 months
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Every time I sharpen a knife I am astounded by the control and perception you can exert on the world with your hands. You're just rubbing some metal over a rough flat surface, but you can tell when the surface is slightly not flat by a few micrometers because the blade will scrape across it unevenly. You can perfectly follow a curved edge to set an even grind by pure feel of friction, even with confounding factors like an uneven stone and haphazardly applied water as lubricant.
You can maintain a consistent angle and reset that angle multiple times as you flip from side to side, you can feel out that your draw length is the same and you feel a kind of innate wrongness when you don't draw long enough on one side as the other. I'm not even particularly good at this and I can get a shaving edge on my knives in a few minutes.
Like, I do other hand crafts, sewing, sure, I can sew a 2mm backstitch seam all day, but there's so much obvious visual feedback to help you do it, here you are on a mode of operation that cannot be perceived visually pretty much at all, and it works!
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zepskies · 6 months
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Take Me Home - Part 7
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, we’re at that part of the season 3 plotline…
Word Count: 6.6K
Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife
Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. He’d already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.
“What held you up?” Carla asked.
Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.
“Oh my God. Is she okay?” Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.
“She’s fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,” he said. “But I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If he’s got any sense, he’ll get gone.”
Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.
“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadn’t wanted to.
Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.
“All right, smart Alec. Why don’t you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? We’ll set up the bed and the couch.”
“If you can call that glorified bench a couch,” Emily muttered with a grin. 
“Ey!” Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.
After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.
Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadn’t needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. They’d just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with him…he was beginning to get what she meant.
“I’m really thankful for you helping us,” Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.
“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.
Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.
“I just got a bad feeling about all this,” he confessed. “It’s like in Houston with Randy.”
“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t go there.”
“It’s too late,” he replied. “‘Cause it feels the same. Like something’s…something is comin’, and I’m powerless to stop it.”
“Randy’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him. Just like you had.
Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.
“We both know that’s not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And then…then I wasn’t there for you, or Emily. I don’t blame you for leaving me.”
Carla couldn’t help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.
“Well, you’re here for us now,” she said. And yet, she could’ve predicted his next words like clockwork.
“It don’t make up for the way I checked out,” he said.
Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didn’t cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.
It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.
The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.
She knew he’d been drowning in it for a year and hadn’t known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him. 
It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.
Carla laid a hand on Beau’s over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.
“I forgive you. For all of that, okay?” she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.
“But I’m telling you, this thing with Avery…this isn’t over by a long shot,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to scare you. You understand that?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two,” Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.
It worked, and it didn’t. Carla nodded again. “I know.”
He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.
“Carla, I’ll always love you…”
She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.
“Though I sense a but coming,” she said.
When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.
But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply you’d gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didn’t want to.
Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.
“What’s she like?” she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.
Still, the flicker of Beau’s soft smile stung, just a little.
“She’s special,” he said. “Resilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know she’s a college professor?”
“Yeah, Emily told me,” Carla said. 
Beau’s smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look. 
“I have no right to complain,” she said. “And you deserve to be happy too, Beau.”    
He considered that with a nod. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but for your sake…he would try.
“Can you promise me something?” Carla asked. 
“Name it,” he said.
“I know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,” she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.
“He is in this deep. And he’s being stubborn about it,” he said. “I might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.”  
Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for. 
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A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.
“Okay, I’ve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reese’s cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,” you said. “Am I missing anything?”
“I don’t think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,” Denise replied.
She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.
You had five classes on your roster. You’d also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.
You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. You’d always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since you’d lived in different states.
Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own mother’s absence. 
“Yes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies we’re gonna watch tonight, and in what order,” you said.
“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t already have a color-coded checklist,” Denise quipped.
You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. “Okay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.”
You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.
“Oh, hi! I’m sorry,” you said, at the same time she said, “Sorry, I…”
You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cart—enough to feed a family of three for the week.
“Yeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,” she said. “Beau’s trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, so…”
You adopted a more amused smile. “Yeah, he’s not much of a cook, is he?”
“Do frozen fish sticks count?” Carla remarked.
“Only if there’s expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,” you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.
You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. “Hey, sorry.”
“Was that who I think it was?” Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.
“Indeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,” you whispered back, to make sure you weren’t overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.
“When was the last time you heard from him?” Denise asked. She must’ve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who “him” was code for. Beau friggin’ Arlen.
“Not since we said goodbye last week,” you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of many…late nights with yourself.
Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.
“Okay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,” Denise proposed.
You smiled. “You know what, that’s a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.”
You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldn’t be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.
“Hey, if you want, stop by here later,” your aunt said. “Em is here. We’ll grab lunch, make it a real girls’ day.”
“Sure,” you agreed. You hadn’t seen Emily in a week or so either. “Where are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.”
“Sounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.”
“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys soon!” you said. 
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Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling. 
Not only was Walter Sunny Barnes’s son, but Paige was alive. She’d been found in the foyer of Sunny’s home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed she’d had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.
According to Paige’s testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadn’t killed Mary or Luke either.
That wasn’t even the worst of Beau’s headache.
He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Avery’s stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed. 
Fuckin’ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.
“Hey, Dad,” she answered on the third ring.
“Hey, honey. You doin’ all right? You good?” he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.
“Yeah, totally. Just doing some research…but guess who’s coming to have lunch with us later?” she asked.
Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.
“You’re welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,” she teased.
Beau’s smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.
“Wish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. I’m just…checking up on ya, like dads do,” he said.
As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasn’t lying. He needed to follow up on the man who’d trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. He’d fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.
“Well, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,” Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but he’d make it up to her tonight. Maybe he’d bring home some takeout so Carla didn’t have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.
“All right, honey. If not, I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Just…don’t go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassie’s with you. Matter of fact, I’ll pick you up from there today.”
“Yeah sure,” she said. Though he didn’t think she really heard the warning in his voice.
“‘Kay. Bye, Dad.”
She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.
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“Sorry I’m so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,” you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.
“That’s okay. We’ve been busy here,” Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.
“Ech. Still working on this?” you asked.
“Unfortunately,” said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. “But we might’ve gotten a huge break on it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”
“Get back? Where’re you going?” you asked.
“To get the food! I already placed the orders,” she said, patting your arm. “I’ll be right back.”
You gave her a narrowed look. “I was going to pay for it—”
“No need!” Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.
“Careful with her. She can be devious,” you said.
Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasn’t cold enough to create an outage. You hadn’t heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.
“That’s weird—” Emily said.
The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.
You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.
Buck Barnes.
“Buck?” you gasped. “What…what’re you doing here?”
He didn’t look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.
“Hush up,” Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. “And drop that phone, nice and slow.”
Your heart was in your throat, but you couldn’t just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.
“You tried to kill Paige,” Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.
“Sit down and shut up,” Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.
“Why’re you doing this?” you asked Buck.
“I need some collateral if I’m gonna get the hell outta dodge,” he replied.
“Fine, but let Emily go. She’s just a kid,” you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.
Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next. 
“You don’t need her,” you tried again. “Come on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlen’s going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?”
“Oh, I’m bettin’ he’ll be more than willing.” Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emily’s. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.
“Now get up.”
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“What?!” Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. “Slow down, Denise. What’s going on?”
The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.
It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.
Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.
Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. He’d seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.
When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. You’d been about to call him.
He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emily’s backpack.
“No power means no surveillance footage,” Jenny said. “Okay, let’s think. Why take her and Emily?”
“It’s gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,” Beau said, grinding his teeth. “I needa find him.”
“Any idea where he might be held up?” Jenny asked.
“Carla will know,” he replied.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.
“No,” he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. “Get a response team ready, but I don’t want anybody doing anything without checking with me!”
He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“We’re gonna find them,” she promised.
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You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where. 
The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didn’t mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, you’d been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.
“Y’all better quiet down back there,” Buck warned.
You grabbed Emily’s hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasn’t alone.
She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you would’ve held her like a mother bear.
Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears off—about country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldn’t give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.
All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.
Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.
Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when he’d forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.
Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.
She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.
“Oh my God,” you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.
“Hold on, I’ll get you guys out of there,” he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.
You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emily’s eyes when Buck snapped the man’s neck.
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Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.
Beau felt the weight of his shame like never before—all while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. She’d just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.
When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men he’d stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.
Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.
Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. He’d thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.
After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadn’t taken you or Emily.
By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where he’d been holding Paige.
Now it was a whole new manhunt.
“Beau,” Jenny said. “We have something on Buck.”
It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably so—not just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.
Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.
“Come see this,” she said.
Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jenny’s laptop was connected to a smart TV.
On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldn’t see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.
“Buck was casing the lot for a car to steal,” Jenny said. “We’re guessing this unlucky guy found them.”
“It means they’re still alive,” Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.
Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.
He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.
“It’s just…it’s the one thing we’re supposed to do. Protect our kids,” he said. “The one thing.”
“Hey,” she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”
And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.
“She’s gotta be so scared, Jenny,” he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn’t working.
“Both of them,” he said. “They’ve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to them—”
Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. “I still think he’s keeping them alive for leverage.”
“Well, I hope you’re right, because there’s nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,” he said.
But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadn’t uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.
He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though he’d vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.
You’d already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadn’t even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.
Now, you’d been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadn’t had the chance to tell you…
He hadn’t been able to tell you a lot of things.
And maybe, he’d never get the chance.
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The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse he’d made of the truck’s owner.
On the long and bumpy ride down the road, you’d been able to search the dead man’s jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.
You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.
You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but you’d gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.
“You girls behaving yourselves back here?” Buck asked.
You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girl’s. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.
But then you realized that he just didn’t want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.
“My dad’s going to find you,” Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.
“You want water or not?” he asked.
“And when he does, he’s gonna kill you,” she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.
Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.
Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, he’d taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.
“Forgot to check his pockets,” he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. “Gettin’ a little rusty.”
He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didn’t make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.
“Next time it’ll be gasoline and a lighter,” he warned. “Now both of you, shut the fuck up.”
Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.
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“You okay?” Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.
“At least the gags are off,” she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.
“We’ve just gotta keep holding out,” you said. “I’m sure your dad is on the way.”
Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what she’d told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
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It was much, much later.
Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.
Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. He’d unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, he’d tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.
Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.
You weren’t sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.
By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.
“How’re you doing?” you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didn’t have much energy to talk either.
So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.
What a fucking asshole, you thought. He could’ve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.
“How are they supposed to find us out here?” Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.
“The police will get it out of Buck, I’m sure,” you said. “Even if Beau can’t, damn certain Jenny will.”
You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didn’t quite make it there.
“God, I’m so thirsty,” she coughed.
“I know, I’m sorry,” you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “All we can do is keep trying to get loose.”
You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.
You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.
You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.
Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I know Dad’s coming for us.”
Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could too…
And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they weren’t just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.
You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.
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Beau tested the limitations of Jenny’s SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them. 
At the very least, Buck was dead. 
Sunny had shot him—before they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him. 
“They found them,” he’d told Jenny, with red and shining eyes. 
In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed. 
Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beau’s eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.
His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.
He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasn’t even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.
And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didn’t look hurt, just shaken.
“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. “God, I’ve got you.”
Letting out the deepest breath, Beau’s gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beau’s eyes widened.
You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.
Your name fell from Beau’s lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.
He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.
“Shh, it’s okay now,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’."
Never gonna let you go again, he thought.
You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.
Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.
You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.
“You okay?” you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.
“Good,” Beau said. “Let’s get you two home.”
You realized then that you were clinging to him like…like he was yours. 
“Oh,” you uttered, releasing his shirt. “I‘m sorry.” 
Beau’s eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so you’d look at him again. 
“Don’t you do that,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.
Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.
But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.
Beau cleared his throat.
He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.
You and Emily were going home.
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AN: 🫣 Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?
Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)
Next Time:
“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”
“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”
It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.
“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.
You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8
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