“Heather wouldn’t have done this. You out of all of them have to know that. You know what she was like.”
There’s a silence, and I edge forward, wanting to hear more. Lucky wouldn’t give me any details on Heather, but I’ve gathered enough to know that Dom was hung up on her and she left with some guy called Thomas, who used to be part of their team. I haven’t been alone with Beau long enough to ask any questions, and Dom, well, there’s no way I’m going to ask Dom about her.
But what has she done now? I thought she was out of the picture.
“What?” Dom prods.
“Just trying to figure how to answer that without getting my ass kicked.”
I struggle to split my attention between my feet and the conversation, but they’re not moving too fast, at least.
“Just say it.”
Beau huffs. “Fine. Heather was a lot. Sure, she was brave as all hell—I’ll give you that. But she also had a knack for hitting a guy below the belt that you either didn’t see or didn’t want to.”
“She was tough,” Dom snaps.
I blink. He sounds so defensive of her. Uneasiness sifts through my gut. It doesn’t sound like these are old, dusty feelings at all.
“She was a dick, and I could never tell if it was intentional or not. There’s a reason the other three hate her, Dom—they didn’t just wake up one day and decide it. She was always different around you and Thomas. Softer. The rest of them . . .”
Beau trails off.
I shouldn’t be listening in like this. This is not the way I should be hearing about them.
But I still don’t make a sound.
“It’s not like the others are innocent. Lucky put a snake in her bed, for fuck’s sake.”
I bite down on my lip hard to stop a giggle. Lucky’s never put a snake in my bed.
Well, not the fanged kind anyway.
Beau snorts. “It was a garter snake. Completely harmless. And you know he only did that because she kept saying that he was too soft to watch anyone’s back. She told him flat out that he should stay back with the women and children while she and Thomas went out on raids.”
Dom stops abruptly, and I only just catch myself before I step into view. My heart hammers, then twists a little as I think of Lucky. I’ve seen him in action, and he’s as fierce and capable as any of them.
“She was joking. She had a mouth on her, but she was only joking,” he says, though he sounds uncomfortable.
Beau makes a derisive sound. “Yeah, real funny. I laughed a lot when I saw him hurting after that one. I don’t even know how she always found the exact softest spot to hit on a guy, but she was a real pro. I thought Jasper was going to murder her on the spot.”
Dom blows out a long breath. “And you?” he asks in a low voice. “She do that with you too?”
“She—” Beau groans. “Look, she never wanted to push me too far because she knew we were tight. But as charming and fantastic in the sack as she was when it was both of us, it hit me like a brick to the face when she turned around and made it clear she wasn’t interested in me. She wanted you, Dom, and Thomas, and as soon as you weren’t around, she made the lines pretty damn clear.”
The queasiness in my stomach worsens. Fantastic in the sack. Well, that’s just . . . great. I bet she knows all kinds of fancy tricks.
Maybe it’s for the best that my night with Beau was interrupted. Damn it, why didn’t I spend more time making Jayk or Lucky show me how to be amazing? I was so caught up in just being with them I didn’t even think about how I should be with them. I should have taken notes. It’s unlike me not to have studied.
I’m starting to seriously regret coming out here, and not for the reasons I worried I would.
There’s no way I can reveal myself now.
“Beau—”
Beau cuts Dom off. “And I don’t know why you still keep defending her. She did the exact same thing to you. As soon as she made up her mind on who she wanted, she left you in the dust.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Dom says quietly. “She’s entitled to decide who she wants to be with. She never hid that she wanted Thomas as well.”
“I’m surprised the two of you didn’t just share her,” Beau mutters, and the bitterness in his tone makes me wince.
After a moment, Dom says, “That was never going to happen.”
There’s an awkward silence as they continue walking for a stretch, and I have to push to keep up.
Beau finally sighs. “I don’t think she would have done this, for what it’s worth. If there was one thing she cared about, it was keeping our people safe. She made the civs feel safe. She managed that better than any of us—it’s why half of them left with her. I agree that she wouldn’t have sold us out.”
Sold them out? I’m missing a key piece of information here, I’m sure of it. I should have known I wasn’t getting the whole truth.
“Thank you,” Dom says.
They fall into silence, and I follow them, wriggling apart every detail from their conversation.
“Should we check C18 as well?” Beau asks, and they both pause.
I stop, suspended mid-step, more startled than I should be when he breaks the silence.
“It’s out of the way,” Dom replies, but he seems to be considering.
“But if they’re taking the canyon pass, that’ll be the way they go. It’s longer to Bristlebrook, but sure as shit easier than this route. There’s a good chance they’ll avoid these cliffs, right?”
I frown. Who is “they”？
“It’s worth a look. I’m not having them sneak around us. If they do take the cliffs, they’ll be here for hours, and they’re not going to take them at night unless they’re taking a run at the Darwin award. We can come back.” Dom’s voice turns grim. “They should pray we don’t find them while they’re hanging from their fingertips.”
My stomach drops. Trip to repair some cameras, my ass. What the hell is going on?
They start to move again and, with a start, I realize they’ve changed directions and are heading right for me. Swallowing a squeak, I swing deeper into the brush, ducking under a low, heavy branch. In just moments, they pass me, close enough that I could reach out my fingers and brush their legs.
I’m debating whether I should ease out of my hiding place and start following again when Dom pauses.
“What is it?” Beau asks.
My breath strangles. Did I leave some trace? Should I just start running now?
“Rock in my shoe.”
As he stops to shake it out, I let out all the air in my lungs. My hand is shaking where it’s pressed against the bark.
I’m okay. I’m safe. I spent years out here perfecting staying undetected in the forest. I’m good at this.
The pep talk helps. When they start moving again, so do I. I try to stay close, wanting to hear them if they start talking again, wanting to hear about this “they” they seem to be tracking. But now, I really don’t want to be caught. It’s one thing to follow after them when they’re making a harmless trip to fix some equipment—it’s another entirely to follow them into a firefight after being “sold out.” So I hang back, just a little, far enough that they’re out of view but still in hearing distance.