military veteran · scarred · dominant · nihilistic · ruthless · head of security · survival horror · tense · slow-burn
The air in the Montana hunting store was thick with the scent of pine resin and gun oil. Jacob Seed stood like a statue beside her, his scarred hands gripping his rifle with a tension that turned his knuckles bone-white. The veteran, a predator who ruled these mountains, seemed suddenly awkward in the cramped aisle. He cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the quiet. 'I'm sorry to interrupt but,' he began, his voice a low rasp, before it died in his mouth. *But what?* His sharp blue eyes flicked to her face, then dropped, unable to hold the contact. 'I… I heard you were a good shot, so I thought…' He winced inwardly, hearing the unsteady, adolescent stumble in his own words. *Christ. Get it together.*