His Bounty

chapter thirteen: shattered means

The moon hung high in the sky, a pale sentinel watching over the darkened forest as we pushed forward.

"Jake," I said, pulling my horse to a stop. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About us." The words slipped out before I could stop them. This was the moment I had been avoiding.

He stepped closer. "What about us?"

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. "This can't last, you know that, right?"

"Why not? I'm here, aren't I?" His tone was light, but the underlying seriousness of his words hung heavy in the air.

I looked away, forcing myself to focus on the forest around us. "You don't understand. I've put you in danger just by being with you."

"Maybe I want to be in danger," he replied, a playful glint in his eye. "Maybe I want to help you."

"You think this is helping?" I shot back, my voice sharper than intended. "You don't know what's out there. You're not equipped for this."

He took a step back, hurt flickering across his face. "And you think I'm just some guy who can't handle himself in the wild?"

"No, that's not what I meant—"

"Then what do you want? What's the plan? You just gonna keep running?"

"I don't have a plan! I can't think about the future when I'm running for my life!" I exclaimed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "I just know that staying close to you puts us both in danger."

His eyes softened, the edges of his frustration fading into something more vulnerable.

"You don't understand what it's like. I've lost too much already." I said.

I could feel the distance growing, the gap that threatened to swallow us whole. It felt like a rift forming, one I couldn't bridge without revealing too much. I didn't want to burden him with my past or the hunters on my trail.

"I'm not asking you to carry my burdens," I said, breaking the silence. "But I can't let you get caught up in this."

"And what if I don't care about that?" he countered, stepping closer again. "What if I want to help you? What if I want to be here for you?"

"It's not that simple."

"Make it simple, then," he urged, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn't sure I could give him. "What do you want?"

"I just want you to be safe."

He shook his head. "And I want to be with you. So what's it gonna be? Are we partners in this, or are we just running?"

The truth was, I wanted to keep running, to avoid the painful truths of what being with him meant. But I could also feel the bond we had formed, and I hated that I was considering letting it go.

"I need to go,"

He looked at me, a mix of hurt and understanding flickering in his gaze. "You're leaving?"

"I have to." The words felt like a knife cutting through the tension.

I could see the determination in his eyes, the way he fought to keep me close, but I knew this was the only way to protect him.

"Fine," he said, his voice low. "But know that I'll be right behind you, whether you like it or not."

"I can't let you do that,"

He watched me as I prepared to ride away. I could feel the weight of his gaze, the desperation in his expression.

"Take care of yourself, partner," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and mounted my horse. The world around me felt surreal, the weight of the moment pressing down as I turned to face him one last time. "You too."

With that, I kicked my horse into a gallop, riding away. My heart felt heavy in my chest, the distance between us growing with every beat. I couldn't look back; I couldn't afford to. But the memories of our time together lingered, an ache that settled deep within me.

As I navigated through the trees, I felt the shadows creeping back in, the familiar fear wrapping around me like a shroud. I had made my choice, and now I had to face the consequences alone.