‘Relax,’ Ethan reassured me, reaching to take my hand. We fell behind Oliver. ‘You can’t get lost out here.’
‘We’ll loop up by the lake,’ Oliver announced, checking a map on his phone. ‘The guy at the store said they’ve seen plenty of bucks up there this week.’
‘Great,’ Ethan agreed. I looked over.
‘You didn’t say you hunted.’
‘Not much, usually I just go out with Dad or Olly,’ he explained. ‘He’s the real hunter. You should see the trophies he’s got, it’s like a gift.’
Oliver turned. ‘Speaking of gifts, why don’t you show Chloe your new toy?’
‘Oh, yeah!’ Ethan opened his bag and pulled out a large hunting knife, sheathed in a leather case. ‘Look what Olly got me.’ He slid the cover off, showing me the blade, eight or nine inches long. ‘Isn’t it great? I can use it for stuff at work too, we’re always unloading materials and dealing with all that plastic wrap.’
‘Great,’ I echoed quietly. The blade glinted in the sun, silver and sharp, and before I even thought about it, I found myself reaching for the knife. I sliced an arc through the air, feeling the weight of it in my hand, and how the hilt curved against my palm.
‘You like it.’
I looked up. Oliver was watching me. ‘Oh, yeah, it’s great,’ I said, handing it back. ‘I left my gift in the car,’ I told Ethan quickly. ‘I’ll give it to you later.’
‘You didn’t need to get me anything,’ Ethan grinned.
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Aww, you’re too sweet.’ Ethan tugged me closer, kissing me on the lips. I kissed him back, my mind alert and acutely aware of Oliver, only a few paces away. The knowledge made me guilty, but there was a thrill there too. The risk. A challenge.
‘Enough of you lovebirds,’ Oliver’s voice came, but I kept hold of Ethan’s jacket, kissing him longer before finally breaking away.
Oliver’s gaze was on me, amused. ‘This way.’ He nodded to a fork in the trail. ‘And keep it down, unless you want to broadcast our arrival to the entire herd. Deer may be stupid animals, but they are at least smart enough to run away when danger comes their way.’
His eyes lingered on me, and I wondered if that was a message. Was he danger? Was I supposed to run?
I wasn’t afraid.
‘Lead on,’ I told him, striding ahead into the snowy wilderness. Oliver chuckled, and kept walking.
Oliver followed some tracks out to a spot by the lake, then had us settle in behind a scree of brush and trees. He watched the water through military-style binoculars, while I snuggled up to Ethan and passed the coffee and snacks.
‘So now we just sit around, waiting?’ I asked.
Oliver chuckled, his eyes still fixed out on the scene. ‘Didn’t your mother ever teach you: good things come to those who wait.’
‘Good things like pneumonia and chillblains?’ I shivered.
‘Hey, you cold?’ Ethan immediately unwrapped his scarf and looped it around my neck.
‘I’m good.’ I smiled at him. ‘It’s nice to be out, I’ve been trapped behind that desk all week, fielding calls.’
‘Better than laying cement,’ Ethan countered, laughing.
‘True.’
‘Hey, did they ever charge that driver?’ Oliver spoke up. ‘The one who killed your friend.’
My heart clenched at the mention of Crystal. I’d gone to the funeral, a useless gesture, but I needed to be there, to see them lower the box into the cold ground, adorned with a single white rose.
‘Not yet.’ I managed to reply. ‘There’s a whole load of legal back and forth. Blake’s parents got this big-shot lawyer in, talking about police incompetence and tainted evidence.’
‘The Haverford sheriff’s department? I’d never believe it.’ Oliver’s tone was light.
‘They never even arrested him.’ I said bitterly.
‘So he’ll get away with it?’ Oliver turned.
I shrugged, even as my blood itched with the injustice. ‘I don’t know. Sheriff Weber says the guilt will stay with him forever.’
‘Yes, but that’s not justice,’ Oliver said, as if reading my mind.
I swallowed back the sharpness rising in my chest. ‘I know. But, what can you do? Some people just get away with it. Wrecking lives and then moving on. They never miss a beat.’
‘It’s OK, babe, we don’t have to talk about it.’ Ethan hugged an arm around me and I caught the warning look he sent to Oliver. ‘I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.’
‘I was just asking.’ Oliver turned back to the lake.
‘Let’s talk about something less depressing,’ Ethan announced. ‘Like what we’re going to do with this deer when we get it.’
‘That’s not depressing?’ I laughed, glad of the change of subject. ‘And who says you’ll get anything.’
‘We always do,’ Ethan told me. ‘Believe me, Olly won’t go home empty-handed.’
‘I always get what I want, even if it takes all night.’ Oliver gave me a smile that sent shivers down my spine. ‘Ethan will bring the truck round, isn’t that right? We’re not more than half a mile from the road now.’
‘And then you’ll what, mount its head on the basement wall?’ I was intrigued by their casual confidence, talking about a dead animal like it was nothing. I’d grown up around hunting – this was wild country, after all – but I’d never been this close to the action: fascinated and repulsed in equal measures.
‘No.’ Oliver’s voice dropped, serious. ‘You don’t f**k around like that. You have to eat the meat, bury the bones. Honour the life you’re taking.’
‘Oh.’ I blinked, thrown. ‘Sure, I mean, that makes sense. In a twisted sort of way,’ I added.
‘What’s twisted about it?’ Oliver tilted his head, watching me now instead of the lake. ‘You eat meat, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but that’s different.’
‘How?’ Oliver countered. ‘It comes from an animal, it all does. In fact, this is far more humane a way of dying than all those abattoirs serving up your Big Mac and Whoppers. As long as man existed, we’ve hunted: it’s primal, deep in our DNA.’ Oliver smiled. ‘Survival of the fittest.’