As we continue, my momentary panic starts returning to anger.
They lied to me. Again. How many times am I going to fall for this? Dom’s words from last night ring in my ears. “We’ll tell you everything,” he said. He promised.
Actually no, that wasn’t quite it. “Going forward, we’ll tell you everything.” His exact words.
God. Damned. Sneaky. Lying. Son of a—
I burst into the next clearing, not realizing until too late that the slight rustles and crunches ahead of me have gone silent. I only have time to see the flash of a gray, metal muzzle, and then I’m being yanked sideways, and my ears are ringing so, so loudly.
Face down in the dirt, I choke on air. My body aches and stings, and I’m shaking so hard against the ground I wonder if it’s possible for one person to cause an earthquake. There’s heavy pressure on my back and a hand—maybe?—on the back of my head.
I’m too stunned to even try to wriggle away.
Then the pressure eases. I’m flipped over, and Dom crouches over me, glowering down with ferocious fury. Movement draws my eye, and I look over to see Beau, white to his lips, staring down at the pistol in his hand.
Grabbing the front of my jacket, Dom hauls me to my feet. His mouth is moving, and his golden eyes spark like flowing lava. Deaf and numb, I recognize with a detached kind of curiosity that he’s probably yelling at me, but the whining, ringing sound in my ears drowns him out.
I was almost shot.
My teeth start chattering. I try to make them stop—the jolting is annoying—but they won’t obey.
Beau almost shot me.
Dom seems to realize that I can’t hear him or, at least, I’m not listening. I watch interestedly as his brows lower. Scowling, he wraps his long, warm arms around me and holds me tight against his hard chest. One hand grips the back of my hair, pressing my forehead to his chest. The rims of my glasses press into my skin.
Why didn’t I realize I was so cold until he wrapped me up?
His spicy male scent curls inside me like smoke and slowly, so slowly, underneath the almost too-intense pressure of his arms, my uncontrollable shaking fades, then stills completely. Warmth starts seeping back into my limbs.
“ . . . should be far enough away. It’s hours yet before we’d see them on either route based on their pace so far.”
The words fight with the ringing inside my head, but Dom’s voice is much nicer than that piercing wail. Low and deep and rumbling, it shivers through my numbness.
“Is she okay?”
I nod against Dom’s chest, and he stiffens, then yanks me back.
“You can hear?”
“You hugged me.” I stare up at him as his eyes narrow.
“I applied pressure. It can help with panic attacks.”
“Uh-hu—”
Beau grasps my shoulder and spins me around to face him. “What in Satan’s holy asshole are you doing here?”
If I thought Dom was mad before, it has nothing on Beau now. He’s still pale under his tan, and there’s a harsh tension around his eyes and mouth.
I open my mouth.
He fists a hand in his short hair. “I almost shot you. I could have killed you. In what idiotic corner of your brain did you think sneaking up on two trained, armed Rangers was a good idea?”
Frowning, I try to speak again.
“We told you to stay put. You agreed. You lyin’ to us for fun now? You think we tell you to do things to make us giggle? It’s not safe out here, Eden. Do you have any idea what—”
Enough. I cross my arms over my chest. “No. I don’t have any idea what is happening out here. If you hadn’t lied to me— again—then I wouldn’t have followed you. Who exactly are you trying to track down? What’s really going on, Beau? Because from what I hear, you’re not exactly gearing up to fix up some cameras.” I glare at him, then at Dom. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm. “You said you would be honest with me.”
Dom cocks a brow. “What I said was—”
“‘Going forward.’” My mouth twists. “Yes, I remembered that part earlier.” I sigh, looking around at the underbrush. “I just wanted to help. I—I thought if I showed you that I could keep up, that I’m not a liability out here, then you’d see . . .”
“You are a liability out here.”
The acerbic tone from Beau makes my insides curdle, but I raise my chin. This is partly my fault, but it’s partly theirs too, and I’m exhausted with all the lies.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make my own way back.”
“It will be dark soon,” he says, as though it might have escaped my notice.
“It does that at night.” His lips tighten at my tone, which I ignore, along with the quaver in my stomach at the sight. “Despite how well you see me, Beau, I should remind you that I’ve probably spent almost as many nights in these woods as you have, even with your fancy Ranger training. I can find my way back. I remember the landmarks. I’ll be fine.”
“No.” The clipped word from Dom finally draws my attention from Beau.
I expect rage but, as if he truly is always Beau’s opposite, Dom seems calm.
He assesses me, taking in my small pack, my boots, my jacket, my small trusty knife. “The hunters that were chasing you are part of a larger group that seems to be heading to Bristlebrook. Our northern cameras went down, that wasn’t a lie, but we think they were taken out. We’re heading up to intercept them. We haven’t spotted any other hunters in proximity—the rest seem to be camped elsewhere, and we have them under surveillance—but it’s possible there are others we haven’t seen. Your little knife won’t do much against them.”
Hunters! I swallow. Hard. Something cold washes through my veins. Memories of running through the forest, feet bleeding, chased by their threats and shouts flash through my mind. I swallow again, trying to work some moisture into my mouth, but I’m breathing too rapidly again.
Then their earlier conversation clicks. They were worried Heather revealed where the cameras were. That’s why they were talking about her.
“They’re—” I breathe through my nose, thinking. “That’s who you fought with. Just after I arrived. The two of you went back out and . . . The scuffle. That’s how you got that bruise.”
It’s a paler color now, almost impossible to see. Dom nods.
“Okay.” I pinch the bridge of my nose under my glasses. “Okay.”
They’re coming after me. I’d thought there were more hunters than they killed in the clearing. There’s a whole camp now?
And they know where Bristlebrook is—it isn’t safe there any longer.
“I need to . . . ” Run. I need to run. “I’ll go. I’ll leave, and then they won’t come to Bristlebrook. They’ll leave you alone.
I’ll . . . I didn’t mean for this to—” My tongue feels thick and clumsy in my mouth. “I never meant to put you in danger.”
“And how will they know you’ve decided to do that? You planning on handing yourself over?” Dom asks dryly.
I blink at him. Why is he not more upset? Isn’t he meant to overreact to everything?