Chapter 12 #2
She’d lost count of how many she’d found—the price of sleeping on bare ground with her head too close to the scrub brush. Teague had insisted it provided protection.
The only way to you is through me, he’d said.
But the brush did nothing for her hair.
He lay in front of her now, facing out. A wall of limestone at her back. A wall of Teague at her front.
He’d kept his back to her all night.
She’d slept better than expected in the few hours she’d had, knowing he was there. Even if that knowing made her chest tight with something that might have been worry.
Or might have been something deeper she wasn’t ready to name.
Now Marcus and Kyle worked on breakfast as the sun finally crept over the eastern rim. Teague must have realized she’d awoken, because he stood and walked over to the other two, returning with instant oatmeal and coffee that tasted like mud but packed enough caffeine to matter.
Over the next hour, the camp stayed eerily quiet except for spoons scraping metal cups and the occasional clink of gear as they packed up.
Marcus’s brown hair was still disheveled from sleep, his eyes hollow. Whatever secrets he kept had etched new lines around his mouth overnight.
Kyle seemed more alert. Almost energized.
And Eden caught him watching her more than once when he thought she wasn’t looking. Each time, cold slid down her spine. Which didn’t make sense.
Teague finally agreed to let her out of his sight to take care of personal needs—and even then, he marched her a good ten-minute walk from camp.
He’d used the time to radio in for status on the injured.
Trey was doing well. Liam was sedated because of swelling, but scans showed no brain bleeds. Meg had called it a good sign.
Small mercies.
Now Teague moved through the before-hike routine with grim efficiency—checking water, organizing the medical kit, repacking gear. He hadn’t looked at her directly since they woke. Hadn’t asked how she slept. Hadn’t done any of the small things that had seemed natural just a few days ago.
Professional.
Distant.
Exactly what she’d asked for when she called him boss. When she ended things between them.
So why did it feel like slowly freezing from the inside out?
Eden rinsed her cup—the water cold against her fingers, numbing—as Kyle pulled out a map and spread it across a flat rock near the dying fire.
“I’ve been thinking.” He smoothed the creases, his finger tracing topography lines. “We still have four people here. No reason we can’t get in at least one more climb before we hike out.”
Teague’s head came up. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not?” Kyle’s expression was earnest. Open. “We’ve got supplies. We’re already here.” Kyle pointed to a marking on the map. “There’s a cave entrance about two hours out, practically on our way. Easy approach. Moderate climb. We check it and still make the rim before dark.”
“Liam and Trey are in the hospital.” Teague’s voice went hard. “And you want to keep going?”
“I want to finish what we started.” Kyle’s jaw set, something harder flashing beneath that easy smile.
“If we don’t do it now, you’ll have to come back anyway.
More time, more resources, more risk.” He spread his hands.
“Might as well check another potential site while we can. Face it. Getting out of the canyon a few hours earlier won’t help them one lick. ”
“No.” Teague reached for the map. “We’re hiking out. Now.”
Eden studied the map before he could fold it.
The cave Kyle had pointed to was close—closer than she expected. And the approach did look straightforward. Nothing like yesterday’s technical climbs.
“He has a point.” The words were out before she could think better of them.
Teague turned to stare at her. Something flashed in his green eyes—hurt, betrayal. “What?”
“We do have the supplies. If we don’t check it now, someone will have to come back.” She moved closer to the map, not looking at Teague even though his gaze burned into her. “And we are passing right by it.”
“Eden—” His voice held a warning. And something else. Exhaustion.
“I know what you’re worried about.” She met his eyes—saw the tension, the fear he was trying to hide. And underneath it, the walls he’d built overnight.
Same walls she’d built.
“But this is a straightforward climb. Probably not more than eighty feet. Two pitches. We could be up and down in an hour.”
“You’re siding with him.” Flat. Not a question.
“I’m not siding with anyone. I’m looking at the facts—”
“The facts.” His jaw worked. “Right. Because that’s all this is. Professional assessment.”
The bitterness in his voice made her want to take it back—take everything back.
But she couldn’t.
Kyle stood, brushing dust off his pants. “I’m in. If Eden thinks we can do it safely, that’s good enough for me.”
Teague’s expression darkened at Kyle’s too-quick agreement. At the way he sided with Eden like they were a team.
Like Teague was the outsider.
“Marcus?” Eden looked toward where he sat holding his empty cup. Anything to break the tension. “What do you think?”
Marcus blinked, seeming to surface from deep water. “I—if there’s a chance the cache is there, we should check. That’s why we’re here, right?”
Teague looked ready to say something but stopped, jaw tight. Whatever he’d been about to say stayed locked behind his teeth.
Eden moved closer, lowering her voice. “I know you’re trying to protect everyone. I appreciate that. But we also need to do what we came here to do.”
“So you want to keep climbing with whoever sabotaged those radios.” He stared at her, voice barely a whisper. “That’s your professional assessment.”
There it was again. Professional.
“We have nothing but suspicion. Face it—it was both radios, so whoever we’re in danger from could be at the station.
Or worse, stalking us down here.” She kept her voice steady even as her heart hammered.
“Besides, didn’t you jump a seven-foot gap over a two-hundred-foot drop just last night to save a little time?
Not sure why protecting me matters so much now. ”
The words came out sharp. A low blow. But everything still sat too raw.
Teague’s face went blank. A mask sliding into place. “So that’s what you think of me? Reckless? Uncaring?”
“I think you take risks when you think they’re necessary.” Her voice softened despite herself. “I’m just applying the same logic.”
He looked into the distance. The canyon stretched out before them, painted in gold and rose by the sun that was now fully above the rim. Beautiful. Indifferent.
A beat.
When he looked back, any remaining warmth had vanished from his eyes.
“You want to climb. You want to trust them?” His voice came out flat. Empty. “Your call.”
The words should have sounded like respect. Like partnership.
They didn’t.
Teague turned away and pulled out his own map, double-checking Kyle’s route. His jaw stayed tight. His shoulders rigid. Morning light caught his auburn curls—and she remembered running her fingers through them just yesterday.
Now it felt like a lifetime ago.
She nodded and he released a deep sigh. “Fine. Let’s do this.” Teague’s words came out rough. “But we do this my way. Eden leads. I climb second. Marcus and Kyle bring up the rear.” He looked at Kyle, his green eyes hard. “Nonnegotiable.”
“Worried about me, Hamilton?” Kyle spread his hands, all innocence. “I’m touched.”
“Don’t be.” Teague’s voice stayed flat.
Something twisted in Eden’s chest. Not relief. Not vindication. Just the hollow sense that she’d won the argument but lost something more important.
“Works for me.” Kyle was already folding his map, movements quick and satisfied.
Marcus just nodded.
Teague studied his map without looking at Eden. His presence still felt protective, still watchful—but distant in a way that made her want to take back her words. The whole conversation.
Eden moved to pack her gear. Kyle’s eyes tracked her again. When she glanced up, he was smiling.
“Thanks for taking my side.” His voice was warm. The familiarity of their old friendship. “I knew you’d understand the importance of finishing the mission.”
Something about the words made her skin crawl.
“This isn’t about sides, Kyle.” Eden kept her tone neutral. “It’s about doing the job right.”
“Of course.”
But his expression made her pause. A satisfaction that went beyond getting his way. A gleam that reminded her of a cat watching a mouse.
Her gaze shot to Teague.
He was watching her. His green eyes met hers for just a moment—long enough for her to see the hurt. The walls. The resignation.
Long enough to see that he’d noticed Kyle’s expression too.
“We leave in ten minutes, everyone.” Teague’s voice was all business. “Be ready.”
“We will be.” Kyle still looked too smug.
Teague appeared at Eden’s elbow, solid and protective despite the distance between them. Despite everything she’d said. Everything she’d broken.
He lowered his voice. Just for her. “Stay close. All day. No matter what.”
It wasn’t a request.
And it definitely wasn’t gentle—not the way he would have asked before everything between them had fallen apart, with warmth in his eyes and that crooked smile playing at his lips.
But nothing had ever made her feel so safe.
“I will,” Eden promised.
She turned to say more—to apologize, to explain, to somehow find words for the tangled mess of fear and love and regret knotted in her chest.
But he was already walking away.
Whatever had started between them was now officially dead.
And Eden had killed it.