Real Love

Anderson nodded curtly. "It was dark when I arrived last night. Just making sure we have all the access points covered."

"We have security cameras," Landon explained, pointing to a discreet black box mounted on the house. "And there are the dogs, of course."

A flicker of approval softened Anderson's expression. "That sounds sufficient for now."

"Mind if I take a quick look around the perimeter?" Without waiting for a response, Agent Anderson slipped past them and began a circuit of the house, making notes on a small pad.

As he disappeared around the corner, Callie couldn't help but steal a glance at him. A barely-there smile tugged at her lips. Maybe, just maybe, the perpetually grumpy agent wasn't so bad after all.

CHAPTER 5

Landon gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as the four-by-four lurched over another treacherous bump. Its tires crunched rhythmically on the gravel mountain road. Sunlight dappled through the dense canopy of pines, casting dancing shadows across the rugged terrain.

The air, crisp and cool, carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth. With a determined glint in his eyes, Landon navigated the winding path, each turn revealing a breathtaking vista of snowcapped peaks and verdant valleys unfolding below. The powerful engine hummed contentedly as he tackled steep inclines, the Land Rover's capable suspension absorbing every bump and jolt with ease.

Landon stole a glance at Agent Anderson, the stoic government agent assigned to protect his sister, but the man's mirrored sunglasses gave away nothing. They had had a long conversation the previous night, once Callie went to bed, about today's excursion.

"I do what I have to do to protect your sister, Mr. Petersen." There was steel in his voice. "Sometimes that doesn't make me popular."

Anderson reluctantly allowed Callie to come with them, when Landon explained to him that the only way to reach Black Mountain was using a four-by-four.

"You didn't need to come with us, Agent Anderson," Callie said.

"I was assigned to protect you. I can't do that if I stay at the cabin," the FBI man stated.

"Yeah, right." She paused, then snorted. "And no doubt to take the opportunity to ask some more questions."

"I'm just doing my job, Ms. Petersen."

Callie turned to Dylan and asked, "He's impossible, isn't he?"

Dylan hesitated. He didn't want to get on Anderson's bad side. "Well... Maybe a little."

"You're going to hound me until I answer, aren't you?" Callie asked, with resignation.

"No, of course not," Anderson replied quickly, then belied his words by adding, "But if you could just answer a few questions...?"

Callie's snort of disgust wasn't encouraging, and the FBI agent sensed his chance to get answers slipping away. "I'm not trying to be a pest," he said, apologetically.

The silence following his words seemed to spin out for a very long time, then he heard a soft curse. "Oh, very well," Callie finally said. "Ask your questions before I change my mind."

"Yes, of course. Thank you," Agent Anderson murmured, then blurted the first question on his mental list.

"Tell me about the kidnapping. Did they just take you off the street?"

"You don't need to answer that if you're not ready," Landon said firmly, giving Anderson a stern look.

Callie didn't speak right away. Instead, her expression became thoughtful, and Anderson suspected she was mentally taking herself back to the night she'd been abducted.

Callie looked out the car's window to get her thoughts straight. When she began to speak, much to her relief, her voice was perfectly calm.

"I met Eddie at a dorm party. We smiled at each other across a crowded room. We were introduced to each other by a mutual friend. We talked for hours and exchanged numbers. He was extremely good looking, caring, and concerned. I'd never had a boyfriend in high school, and maybe that's why I was so easily seduced by him."

She gulped, feeling like an idiot.

"We started dating. It was casual at first, or so I thought," Callie recalled, her voice tinged with a sadness that seemed to surprise even her. "There was a connection, or at least I believed there was. We talked, we laughed, but it never felt like anything serious."

A shadow flickered across Landon's face, but he remained focused on the road. Callie continued her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Things changed one night at a party he threw. There was... a lot of alcohol, and drugs, too."

Landon slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. He whipped his head around, his expression a mix of anger and concern. "Alcohol? Drugs, Callie? I just... I don't understand."

The harsh words stung a fresh reminder of how she'd prided herself on being responsible, a straight-A student with a spotless record. Tears welled in her eyes.

He stepped on the gas, still looking at Callie's eyes through the rearview mirror.

The FBI agent's voice cut through the tension. "Eyes on the road," he said curtly, and Landon, with a deep breath, turned back towards the windshield.

"I never touched the drugs," Callie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But I'll be honest and confess that I'd had too many beers that night. When he flirted with me, I was flattered, reckless, and uncharacteristically wild—and having been such a good girl all my life, I wanted to let loose, forget the worries for once. That's when Eddie... he approached me and said the most awful things. Basically, he wanted me to have sex with him... and his friends."

Landon's hand tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. "What?" he growled.

"That was my reaction exactly," Callie said, a flicker of defiance replacing the shame in her eyes for a brief moment. "He kept feeding me this line about how it was a sign of love, that I should 'just try it.' I refused, over and over again. The last thing I remember is feeling... fuzzy... drowsy..." Her voice trailed off, and a shudder wracked her body. A choked sob escaped her lips.

Callie squeezed her eyes shut, and Agent Anderson watched her intently. A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across her face - fear, shame, a flicker of anger, then a cold dread that settled in her eyes.

Landon let out a growl that seemed to rumble from the depths of his chest. "I'm going to make that son of a..." his voice trailed off into a threat, laced with murderous intent.

Callie's eyes snapped open, a sliver of steely resolve replacing the vulnerability. "The next thing I remember is..." She paused, taking a shuddering breath. "...waking up in the dark. In a cage."

The words hung heavy in the air. Callie's breath hitched, and she closed her eyes again. For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, she continued, her voice barely a whisper, "I was... helpless. Weak. Disoriented. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel the cold metal bars around me. And I could hear..." she stopped again, drew a shaky breath, and continued, her voice barely audible, "...girls sobbing. Someone else was there, in the dark with me."

"Night after night, Boogeyman took one of us out. When they returned, they were... broken. I heard words like 'rape' and 'forced' more times than I wished." Callie's voice hitched, and she locked eyes with Agent Anderson, her own welling with unshed tears. "There were moments," she whispered, "when I wished I was dead."

A shuddering sob escaped her lips, and Dylan reached out a hand, squeezing hers gently.

Landon tensed, afraid that these memories might be too much for his sister. He tried to think of something to say to make her feel better. But before he came up with something.

Callie, taking a fortifying breath, continued, her voice stronger.

"By the time Boogeyman took me upstairs, and forced me to undress, I was sure I was going to die. I was utterly terrified. But fear wasn't all I felt. There was a spark of defiance, a will to survive. And because of that, because of those years of training, I..." She trailed off, her jaw clenched for a moment before she forced a shaky smile. "Let's just say I managed to surprise the bastard."

Dylan offered Callie a comforting squeeze.

Landon's knuckles relaxed slightly on the wheel. His face remained a mask of grim determination.

Callie wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I feel ashamed of myself. My prince turned out to be a creepy toad. I know I disappointed you, Landon. I'm sorry."

She swallowed, and did her best effort to push the bad memories away.

Anderson was ready to ask more questions, but Landon interrupted him. His voice low and dangerous, growled, "That's enough for today, Agent."

Dylan took the opportunity to change the subject. "What are majoring in, Callie?"

Callie was silent for a while, as her mind shifted gears, then explained, "I am in an ROTC program to become a nurse. The army wasn't my first choice, but it was my best shot. They are paying for my full nursing-school tuition. Growing up poor, opportunities were scarce, and the scholarship program offered a path out of the cycle. Yet, for me, the draw went beyond financial security. It was the chance to fulfill a deep-seated desire to help others."

Callie suddenly relaxed and smiled. Dylan's serene expression had this effect on her.

"Witnessing firsthand the struggles of my brother with PTSD, I developed a profound empathy for those in need. I saw the impact of limited access to healthcare, the toll it took on families, and the quiet heroism of the nurses who served them. Their dedication sparked a fire in my own heart, a yearning to join their ranks and alleviate suffering."

"You're a bighearted person, Callie," Dylan exclaimed, truly impressed.

"My motivations aren't purely altruistic. The program promised stability, a chance to build a better life for myself and potentially, one day, my family."

"Military life is a hard road to take. You gain things, but you sacrifice a lot, too. I told you so many times," Landon said, looking for her sister's eyes in the rear mirror.

"I'm aware of the rigors of military training, the demands of a medical career, and the potential for deployment to conflict zones. These are not burdens I take lightly, Landon. But they are worth it if I can make a real difference in the lives of my patients, providing compassionate care and alleviating their pain."

Dylan had his camera hanging from his neck and took a picture of Callie while she talked. He truly admired her passion.

Callie was a beautiful woman, with glossy, chestnut waves of hair framing large, almond-shaped green eyes, a straight nose, and high cheekbones in an oval face.

Landon parked the four-by-four near a gurgling, low-water stream named Harding Creek. "We'll have to hoof it from here," he announced, hopping out of the vehicle.

They all went out of the Land Rover.

Dylan followed, hoisting a hefty bag overflowing with camera equipment. Callie emerged, stretching her arms high above her head, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. The crisp mountain air filled their lungs, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. It was a welcome change from the stale cabin air, sending a jolt of energy through their bodies, chasing away the lingering fatigue.

The path leading away from the vehicle was rocky and uneven, winding its way through a dense forest. As they climbed a steep slope, the trees thinned, revealing a breathtaking vista. Lush valleys stretched out below, painted in vibrant shades of green and dotted with sparkling streams.

The sight left Dylan speechless, his jaw slack and his eyes wide with wonder. He instinctively reached for his camera, snapping photos with a fervor that betrayed his awe.

The group walked a rocky path for some minutes, and then, climbed a slope, emerging onto a platform in front of the mouth of a great cave. It appeared to be quite expansive, and very lofty, resembling a cathedral aisle more than anything else.

They continued for several minutes, the path eventually leading them to a platform overlooking the mouth of a massive cave. It yawned open before them, easily one hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. Its towering interior, bathed in an ethereal twilight, highlighted the chapel's alley

"Wow! This is incredible," Dylan exclaimed, his voice echoing amidst the cavernous space. "I can practically picture a witch stirring a bubbling cauldron right over there!"

"I'll keep watch outside for any unwanted visitors," Agent Anderson announced, his voice carrying an undercurrent of tension.

Landon raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself, Agent. This isn't exactly a bustling tourist destination. Like I told you, the only way in is by off-road vehicle."

Anderson remained unconvinced. "I understand," he said curtly. "But I'll feel better keeping watch from here."

Landon shrugged and walked into the cave to join Callie and Dylan.

Landon shrugged, accepting the man's stubbornness. He stepped into the cave, Callie and Dylan following close behind. They ventured deeper, soon finding themselves fifty feet from the entrance where the natural light began to fade. Dylan busied himself setting up his lights, their beams casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls. Callie assisted him, her movements efficient and practiced.

Dylan found a secluded corner and crouched, meticulously framing shots from various angles. Callie and Landon leaned against the cavern wall, observing his work. He occasionally requested adjustments, asking them to reposition a light or switch it off completely.

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the whirring of the camera and the rhythmic drip of water somewhere deep within the cave. Finally, curiosity piqued, and Callie broke the quiet. "So, Dylan," she began, "how long have you been doing this photography thing?"

Dylan paused for a moment before responding, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "Four years," he said quietly. "My fiancée and I always dreamed of buying an RV and traveling the country. We could both work remotely, so we just... went for it."

"Are you engaged?" Callie asked, her voice barely a whisper, laced with a hint of something that sounded suspiciously like disappointment.

Dylan's focus on the camera faltered for a moment. A prickle of surprise ran down his spine as he stole a glance at Callie. The horror etched on her face sent a jolt through him, a stark contrast to the carefree joy she'd exuded moments before.

He looked away quickly, his throat tightening. "I was," he said quietly, the word catching slightly. "Billie died of cancer a year ago. A brain tumor."

The raw pain in his voice was evident, even with his attempt to keep it steady. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus on the technical aspects of the camera settings. "This is my first solo trip," he added dryly. "That's why I got Rover."

He moved away from Callie, his movements stiff, a silent plea for space to process the emotions her question had unearthed. He busied himself with the camera, snapping a few more photos, anything to distract himself from the well of grief threatening to overflow.

A heavy silence descended upon them, broken only by the whir of the camera. Finally, Callie spoke, her voice barely above a murmur. "My sympathies for your loss, Dylan."

The words were simple, yet they struck a chord deep within him. Shamefacedly, he realized tears were blurring his vision. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he fought back a sob, hastily wiping away a stray tear that escaped.

Suddenly, Callie was beside him, her arms outstretched. Without a word, she pulled him into a hug. Dylan hesitated for a beat, then melted into her embrace, the dam holding back his grief finally breaking. He clung to her, the warmth of her presence a solace against the sharp sting of loss.

"Thank you, Callie," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. "I needed that. Damn, this grief business is a tricky thing, sneaking up on you when you least expect it."

"I'm a hugger. Who doesn't need one every once in a while?" She looked at him, and said, "May I ask you a personal question?"

After a moment's hesitation, Dylan said, "You may."

"How did you and Billie meet?"

Dylan broke into a wide smile as he savored the pleasant memories.

"We were high school sweethearts," Dylan answered solemnly. "My first kiss, my first date, my first everything. She was my first and my only one."

"Do you ever feel like you missed out? Not getting to date other women or experience—?" Callie asked. It was one of the lines Eddie had fed on her, trying to push her boundaries.

A lot of girls in college also talked about 'sowing their wild oats' while they could.

"No. Maybe some people need to try a lot of men or women to find the right one. I knew it all along," Dylan interrupted. He'd been asked the question before. Usually by male friends who seemed horrified that he hadn't kissed and slept with loads of women before settling down with his fiancée. "I was very lucky. Some men go their whole life searching for, but never finding, their soulmate. I was lucky enough to find mine before I was even looking."

Dylan took a deep breath. "I still miss her. I should be coming home to a wife and a house full of kids by now. Lots of kids."

"How many?" Callie asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dylan considered it for a moment, with a shy smile. "I don't know. Five?"

"Would you settle for three?" Callie negotiated, raising an eyebrow.

"I could do that," Dylan said, wiping a tear with the back of his hand. "Some hero, huh?"

"You are a true hero," Callie blurted. The more she knew about Dylan the more she felt attracted to him. "You are to me. Showing emotion is not a weakness. It's a strength."

Trying for a calmer tone of voice, Dylan said, "Thank you. If this were one of the romance stories you read, your hero would be the knight in shining armor, who is willing to die to protect you."

Callie frowned. "Who would that be?"

"Agent Anderson from the FBI, of course."

Callie blinked in surprise, then a laugh burst from her lips. "Who would you be in this story?"

Dylan shrugged and snapped a picture of Callie's expression, taking her by surprise. "Maybe I am the plucky, young sidekick trying to talk sense into you."

Callie shook her head. "Nah. That would be Grace, my sister-in-law."

"Okay. Then, I am one side of the love triangle."

"Oh, this story suddenly got interesting!" Callie's smile got wider.

"Who is the small-town girl going to pick? The funny and endearing travel photographer or the dark and mysterious knight with a badge?" Dylan played along.

"Funny and endearing? Really, Dylan? You'd make a good press agent."

Dylan laughed at that. He reached for one of her hands, and after a moment, Callie linked her fingers with his.

"You're still my hero," she whispered.

CHAPTER 6

Callie woke up with a choked cry, the remnants of terror clinging to her. In her dream, she'd been trapped again, paralyzed in the darkness of the House of Horrors basement. Her heart hammered against her ribs, as she struggled to focus on the familiar shape of her room.

The door creaked open, and Callie flinched. Landon stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed and eyes wide with concern. Scout, her loyal dog, whined softly at his heels.

Callie blinked rapidly, trying to tear her gaze away from the lingering shadows of her nightmare and focus on her brother's worried face.

Anderson was standing behind Landon, wearing just a pair of shorts and holding a gun. They both had the same worried look on their faces.

"Are you okay, Callie?" Landon asked, out of breath. "We heard you scream out."

Landon knew firsthand how disturbing nightmares could be.

"Yeah, it was a nightmare. Sorry, I woke you up, guys. I'm okay, you can go back to sleep."