My lips curve up, and those lights in me turn star bright. “I promise.”
After a long, sweet moment, I look at Dom, who’s watching me like I’m a puzzle, an impossibly knotted string. He’s sitting so close, but just out of reach.
“I won’t hurt them, Dom,” I promise softly. I can see it in him, that protectiveness of them. I feel it too.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, pet,” he replies, just as softly.
Then he shakes his head, and the moment breaks. “It’s done, then. But without the deal, the consequences are all on you if this goes south.”
That seems fair, at least. “Yes, sir.”
He stands up, and I can’t help the way my eyes trail over his naked body. When he starts tugging on his pants, I hide my sigh of disappointment.
“Do you have a canteen?” Dom asks. “You should have some water.”
“Mm-hmm. In my bag.”
Dom tugs at the straps and opens the flap, pulling it forward to check the contents when an avalanche of . . . supplies . . .
falls out. He picks up one of the condoms, then looks at me with a raised brow.
Beau splutters a laugh. “Ten? Darlin’， you were coming out here against our orders.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “I like your ambition, but were you really thinking we’d use all of these?”
My cheeks heat. Rather than respond to that, I dare to start pressing small kisses across his chest, licking at the gentle glistening of sweat on his skin.
“Water.” Beau hands me the canteen, and I drink without complaint. I drain it, surprised at how thirsty I am.
“Come on,” Dom says. “We should get moving.”
My arms twine around Beau’s neck, and I snuggle in. I don’t want to leave this place just yet. The circle of Beau’s arms is a wonderful, glorious sanctuary.
Beau groans . . . and I hate that the sound is resigned. “He’s right. We won’t get back until well after nightfall as it is.”
I shake my head and kiss his neck. “Mm-mm. Comfy here.”
A warning slap against my ass startles me into lifting my head.
“Ow.” I frown, glaring up at Beau.
Dom snorts in amusement, and I glare at him too.
He smiles back languidly, some of the stiffness in his muscles relaxing as he looks down at me. “Move that ass, or I’ll bruise it, gorgeous.”
I huff, but a smile bubbles at my lips. “I think you already did that.”
Beau kisses my forehead, and Dom’s slow smile deepens. “One.”
I drop my legs and get up quickly enough that my head spins, and Dom laughs. Beau begins collecting his clothes, and I grudgingly do the same with a sigh.
As Dom slings on his pack, he looks over at me thoughtfully. “How are you feeling about the rest of it, Eden? The shooter?”
Another unwelcome thought. How do I feel about it? Sick. Sad. Sorry. But . . .
“I do understand why I had to do it,” I say finally, and the words don’t feel like a lie. I swallow. “I would do it again.”
Please don’t let me have to do that again.
Dom nods. “You should talk to Jasper.” At my expression, he lifts a brow, then shakes his head. “We might have helped with your initial panic, Eden, but kink isn’t a substitute for therapy. This kind of thing leaves a mark. You should talk to him.”
“And I promise he’s better at dealing with trauma than he is at relationship advice,” Beau adds wryly, and I snort softly.
The thought of opening up to Jasper again makes my stomach churn in a different way. I remember curling up at his feet and staring up at the gorgeous veil of his eyelashes. The way the world just fell away.
For me, anyway.
I couldn’t have made more of a fool of myself.
“I’ll think about it,” I promise, when both of them keep staring at me. Dom opens his mouth like he’s about to argue, but Beau shoots him another quelling look. I smile softly at him. “I’m okay. For now, I’m okay. He—they all—wanted to hurt us.
He would have killed me, or taken me back to Sam, and I—”
I cut off as Beau turns stiff as a board. “What?” I look at him. “What did I do?”
Dom and Beau exchange a look loaded with meaning, and alarm skitters down my spine.
Hard golden eyes impale me. “That name, Eden. Where did you hear that name?”
“What name?” I stammer. “Sam? That’s their leader. He’s the one who almost caught me.”
His eyes press closed.
“He wasn’t in the clearing that first day,” Beau says, dull shock ringing through his tone. “We didn’t see him in the woods later. We couldn’t have known. But, shit . . . We didn’t even question her when we took her home. Dom . . .”
Beau yanks his shirt on, shaking his head.
“You’re sure?” Dom asks me urgently. “You’re sure that was the name?”
“Y-yes.” I glance between them. I feel a sudden draft. Looking at my mangled bra and ripped shirt, I abandon them and reach for my bag. I pull out my spare set of clothes and get dressed as quickly as I can. “What am I missing?”
“This is important, Eden. What did he look like?” Dom asks, then kneels to re-pack my bag for me with swift experience.
I run a hand over my tangled hair, trying to catch up with this abrupt shift in tone. “I— Well, he was a little older. Maybe early fifties? Short beard. Salt and pepper hair. I— I don’t know what else. Medium build, but he was strong? I remember he was strong.”
“Fuck,” Beau curses as he yanks his pack up, and an ice-cold weight lands in my stomach.
Beau doesn’t swear. Not like that.
When Dom hands me my pack, my hands are trembling with foreboding.
I glance around the clearing. All evidence of our messy, perfect tryst is gone. Dom and Beau’s faces are wiped of emotion too. They’re back to pure soldier mode now. If the aching weakness in my muscles wasn’t screaming at me, I could almost think it hadn’t happened.
“Please,” I ask, and Dom pauses. “Why does that name matter? What does it mean?”
Dom looks down at me, and my knees turn to water at what’s in his eyes. I know it’s bad then. It’s really bad.
For the first time since we met, Dom is afraid.
“It means this trap wasn’t meant for us.” Dom looks away and slings his rifle over his shoulder. “It means Bristlebrook is under attack.”
Chapter 31
Jasper
SURVIVAL TIP #199
When you discover your fatal weakness,
either protect it at all costs . . .
or destroy it.
“D amn it!”
I hit the desk in frustration, then push back in my chair, scowling at the screens. Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I sigh. There’s a twinge in my back that tells me I’m not as young as I used to be—I’ll be paying for sitting up in this chair all night and most of the day. My stomach is tight with hunger but I’m reluctant to stop long enough to get myself some food. I caved and had breakfast, but lunch had been due hours ago.
Why would that group just sit there? It doesn’t make sense. The spot is exposed, and the closest source of water is a fifteen-minute trek away. But there are men camped there—they slip into frame often enough that I’m sure of that.