NICHOLAS
I followed Thomas’s lead and took the first flight to Montana. The moment I stepped off the plane, I regretted it. Freaking snow and jagged rocks. Why did people who wanted to disappear always run to places that looked like hell frozen over?
According to Thomas, the guy I was after had gone completely off-grid, buried somewhere deep in a mountain stretch that hadn’t seen proper civilization in decades. Perfect.
I booked a room at the closest roadside motel. It was cheap, quiet, smelled like dust and cigarette burns and waited until sundown.
My mind wandered. To the one place I should have been thinking about while hunting a man. Emily. Like I could help it.
What was she doing? Painting? Listening to that terrible rock music like it was a spiritual experience? Probably making
